Scars on our hearts

Chad

Chad didn't like the Isle kids. For one, they are from the Isle- where their parents have likely been grooming them for evil since the moment they were born. He knows he'd probably want revenge if he grew up on that trash heap.

Even if he weren't taking into account their likely plans to destroy his home, the Isle kids aren't anything like he's ever known. They are rude, and outspoken, and violent. They don't seem to know anything, and sometimes when Chad looks at them, something in him squirms uncomfortably.

He doesn't like looking at them. At all. And then two of them go and join the Tourney team, and he has to go around looking at them a whole lot more.

Admittedly, once they learn how to play, they aren't all too bad. They're actually really good (and that irks Chad a bit too, even if he's ecstatic about all the teams' wins), but they are weird. They don't even change in the locker rooms with everyone, which is when most of the team bonding happens (in the form of tossing casual insults and snapping each other with towels).

He didn't peg the Isle kids as shy. Well, maybe Carlos, but Jay flirts with just about everyone, including the guys on the team. Chad would have thought the locker room would be the perfect place for the dude to harass some people (not that he isn't grateful they are spared that).

But they show up after everyone is already leaving for the field, and they hang back until everyone is already leaving for their dorms or celebratory pizza.

Chad is perfectly fine to not have to look at the Isle kids, or think about them, anymore than he has to. So he doesn't even think of them as he turns back when he realizes he forgot his phone on one of the benches.

He freezes as he shoves open the door, seeing the previously empty locker room not so empty, and he catches the door before it can slam against the wall.

"-so bad if we just… didn't? What if… this is real, and we can actually have this?"

Chad has no idea what they are talking about, and he generally doesn't care about what comes out of the Isle kids' mouths (though this might be the one time they aren't full of bullshit), because he's too distracted by seeing the boys with their shirts off (not like that- he's into princesses thank you very much- not that he's against that kind of thing).

Jay stands with his back to the door, still in his uniform shorts while he leans casually against the lockers as he talks to the shorter boy. It's his back that immediately draws Chad's attention- dozens of raised and discolored skin. Not like the thin white scar he has on his elbow from cutting it open when he was a kid, but thick, angry, red twisted skin that has Chad instinctively flinching. And past him is Carlos, who is struggling with his jersey half over his head, displaying his pale torso.

The scars stand out even more starkly against his too-pale skin- even more marks than Jay. They look like burn marks and nail marks, and something that curves and something that is straight and something that is jagged. While Jay's are all clearly made by the same thing, Carlos' are made by a variety of things.

Chad wants to back up, and turn around, and go back to not thinking about the Isle kids again. But then Carlos gets his shirt off and he gasps as his eyes immediately land on Chad.

In a blink, Jay is in front of Carlos, squared and tall and looking very intimidating with his dark glare and- those look like knife wounds- how many times has he been stabbed?

"Dude," Chad blurts, now that he's been caught.

"What do you want?" Jay demands as Carlos scrambles for his normal shirt. Jay doesn't sound anything like the fun-loving, care-free guy the team has come to know him as. He looks very... Isle. Dangerous.

"Um," Chad blinks, pointing to the bench just beside Jafar's son. "My phone?"

Jay looks down at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, before something in his shoulders relax slightly, and the air pressure gets marginally lighter. He rolls his eyes as he plucks it up and tosses it.

Chad catches it reflexively.

"Kay, bye," Jay waves, a clear dismissal as he casually reaches into his locker for his own shirt.

Chad decides, for his own continued survival, it's best not to ask- so he quickly takes his leave. Besides, that weird feeling in his gut is back and he doesn't want to think about it anymore.

Lonnie

Lonnie can't help but stare. She hopes it's not obvious staring, but it probably is because Mal twitches at her spot on her bed.

A second later, she rises to her feet and reaches for her jacket. The leather one with bulky studs and scraps of metal sewn carefully into the fabric- the jacket that Lonnie has never seen the girl take off before (she thinks this is the Isle version of armor).

As she shoves her arms though the tough material, Lonnie watches the scars disappear into the sleeves. The scars that made almost perfect rows up her arms, both white and faint, and puckered and angry. Luckily, none of them appeared to be overly fresh, but it makes Lonnie feel weird.

Her heart thuds loudly at the knowledge that Mal, the tough, snarky, Isle kid cuts herself.

She wonders if she should say something. She doesn't know Mal very well, but she likes her and would like to. But the only reason she's even in the room right now is because Evie is taking her measurements to make her a gorgeous gown.

"What?!" Mal suddenly snarls, turning glowing green eyes on her and making Lonnie jump.

"Mal," Evie tsks with a sigh.

"She's staring at me," she hisses back, and Lonnie might be imagining it, but a thin stream of smoke billows out of her flaring nostrils.

"Then stop being so gorgeous," Evie reasons, and then stabs Lonnie with a pin (she's not even pinning fabric today, just using the tape measure). Lonnie jolts and finally, guiltily, breaks her gaze.

Mal snorts, billowing more smoke, and then dismissively turns back to her sketchbook.

Lonnie stares at Evie now, not knowing how the girl could be so cool and unconcerned while a look like that was directed at her. Not only that, but to tease the dragon. Lonne decides that it's not her place to bring up the scars. Maybe if they got closer, but not now.

Mal

Evie doesn't have scars like the rest of them. Oh, she has them. You can't live your whole life on the Isle and someone not try to stab you a few times, but Evil Queen did her best to keep Evie's skin as smooth and flawless as a newborn lamb.

You can't catch a prince with ugly, marred, skin. While she got slapped around a few times, Grimhild never risked doing anything to scar her (Mal is ashamed to say that those few marks that she has didn't come until after joining Mal's gang). No, Grimhild made her walk around in heels for hours from the time she could stand on her own. She belittled and insulted her until she believed it intrinsically, and she starved Evie, even by Isle standards, because no one will want a fat wife.

Evie's scars show in other ways. They show whenever she takes out a mirror (for the fifth time in a minute) to ensure her makeup is absolutely perfect. They show when Evie decides maybe she should just skip this meal, and the next one, and the next one (and okay- just a little bite- and then misses the next two meals as well). It shows when she breaks down in tears when she catches sight of her few scars in the mirror because she's just so awful and ugly and no prince could ever love a disgusting hag like her.

Mal hates the Evil Queen. Just like she hates Cuella, and Jafar. She hates them more than she hates her own horrible mother.

She's been dealing with her crew's mommy and daddy issues for a long time now, but Evie is always harder than the others. Jay just needs patching up every now and then. Carlos' can be pretty scary, but once he realizes where he is and that he's safe, he's fine. But Evie knows exactly where she is when she has her issues.

She's entirely too self-aware when she spirals in her self-deprecating thoughts that no one can really reassure her about.

Mal doesn't know what to do with that kind of thing. There is nothing she can fight, or patch up, or actively do to make it better. She feels the most helpless with Evie, when she breaks down in tears at her own reflection over how her every (nonexistent, in Mal's opinion) flaw.

She doesn't know what to do except hold the princess and do her best to plead her case. Evie never believes her, when she tells her how beautiful and gorgeous she is- not fully in any case. Eventually she will calm down, but Mal can see that she doesn't truly believe (it's the one thing she doesn't trust Mal on, and it's the one thing Mal wishes the most for her trust about).

Ben

Ben is very aware of his girlfriend. He has been since before she became his girlfriend. Before she spelled him. Before he actually, truly, fell for her.

He couldn't help it. She wasn't like anyone he ever met before. She's actually a lot like Audry (despite what either girl would willingly claim), but she's like Aurdey in the way if Audrey wasn't held to the Auradon expectations of a princess. Mal is untempered. Unrestrained. Wholly and unapologetically herself.

Maybe it wasn't love at first sight, but he was definitely aware of her from the moment they met.

So he notices things- like when she notices him. He finds that she looks at him a lot. Especially when they're at the Enchanted lake, and his shirt comes off.

The first time it happened, his spelled brain had him preening under her attention, sure that she found him attractive.

Since then, doubts have crept in. She doesn't look at him quite like she's thinking of kissing him. Her eyes linger, but there's a strange expression on her face. Confusion, curiosity, fascination. It doesn't feel like the way some of the other girls at school would look at him.

And then the VKs and the small group of Auradon kids they've gotten closer to are all hanging out at the Enchanted lake, and Mal's eyes linger, but not just on him. All the VKs' eyes seem to have that same indescribable look as they watch the AKs.

Despite growing closer since the weeks following his Coronation, there is still a noticeable divide as he, Lonnie, Jane, Doug, and Jane laugh and swim around, while Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay remain on shore, fully clothed and more interested in the picnic than playing in the water (even the shallows).

Ben floats close enough to fold his arms on the raised dias, curiously watching Mal watch Jane as she clings to Lonnie's back as the other girl playfully tries to dunk her.

Mal feels his gaze and turns her eyes on him with a relaxed smile. It's only a moment before her eyes dip to his collarbone and then trace along his biceps.

"What is it?" He can't help asking, making her eyes flick back to his. "Why do you look at me like that?"

"It's just," her brow wrinkles.

Ben hoists himself out of the water to flop down beside her. Water streams from his shorts creating a small pool on the stone that creeps toward her, but Mal doesn't move away from it. Her eyes dip back to his chest and trail down his torso.

He shivers as she reaches out a hand to lightly touch his sternum. Her fingers are warm against his wet skin as she drags her hand down over his abs. She bites her lip.

"Just what?" he asks, voice coming out lower than it should. Not that Mal notices how her touch is affecting him.

"You all expose yourselves so freely here. Is that an Auradon thing?"

Ben blinks in surprise. "I didn't think the Isle would be more modest than us."

"We're not," Mal snorts. "You guys are so prudish it's hilarious. It's just… you don't go walking around without layers on the Isle- it's dangerous to show skin. And you do it so openly here, yet…" she drags her hand back up his body. "None of you have any scars."

Ben sits up, suddenly alarmed at the turn in conversation. "Scars? What scars? You have scars?"

Mal smiles wryly, somewhat amused. "Relax, Beast Boy. Scars mean healed. No danger of bleeding out over here."

"That's besides the point," he insists, chest squeezing tighter at her flippant attitude. "The point is that you were hurt- that someone gave them to you."

Her smile fades, and the amusement crusts over to something harder. "Every kid has them back home, Ben. That's the point. I'm not special. If you want to save someone, save the ones still getting new ones every day. Get them off the Isle like you fucking promised you would."

Ben feels as if he's been struck. When he flinches, the sharpness in her eyes smooths into something softer. Something almost apologetic, if Mal wasn't someone who meant every word she says.

"You're right," he swallows, clenching his fists. "I swear to you, I'm getting every kid on that Isle off. But no matter how common it was over there, that doesn't mean everything you went through was right. It wasn't."

Mal rolls her eyes. "I'm over it."

But with the way her eyes go back to watching the Auradon kids, Ben wonders.

A/N: There will probably be at least one other chapter, but let me know if you have any ideas you want me to incorporate.

~Silver~