JAY
Jay has always been a slow learner. It's probably why he got so many beatings as a kid. He wasn't patient or quiet or still. He drew attention to himself without even trying, even when he knew it was something he definitely didn't want to do.
He was slow to learn some lessons, but he learned others.
His dad threw him out of the shop at the age of four and told him not to come back until he brought a haul with him.
It was a painful two weeks in which he learned the majority of his lessons, and quicker than he'd ever learned anything before. He learned that begging wouldn't do you any good. He learned that if they got their hands on you, it was all over. He learned that, when reaching into someone's pocket, to redirect their attention to something else. Being happy and interesting and charming let you get the closest to people.
Jay learned to steal. To lie, cheat, leap from great heights to get away, or climb up nearly any wall. When he got bigger, getting caught was no longer the end of the road, and he learned to fight.
He stole for his dad, but it quickly became like a game to him. It was thrilling like nothing else, even if there were unpleasant consequences if he failed. It was his entire life and purpose. As he got more confident in his skills, he got more bold in his targets, until he tried to steal from Maleficent's daughter, the Isle terror.
Everything changed for him after that. He was enthralled by something new, had a new purpose, something other than the shiniest trinket he could find to try and please his father. Suddenly, he was fighting for something other than himself, stealing for someone other than his father (of course he still stole for his dad- those lessons, no matter how long it took to sink in, still sunk in).
It was… world altering. All the treasure and rusty lamps in the world couldn't hold a candle to how important Mal and the rest of his gang, their protection, became.
But when they get to Auradon… everything changes again. He's suddenly rendered completely and utterly useless.
He's not allowed to steal in Auradon, but everything shiny, anything not attached to something (and even things that were previously attached to something) finds its way into his pockets, into his room, under his bed. He doesn't even mean to. He knows he shouldn't. He can't even do anything with any of it, it won't get him or his dad or his gang anything but trouble.
But his fingers tingle and there is an anxious squirm in him, and things are suddenly in his hands. There is nothing he can do after that except hide it away.
He can't get to the one thing he is supposed to steal, the one thing that will help his crew.
And the one other thing he's good for, fighting, protection, he's not able to do either. It was one of the first lectures Fairy Godmother gave them- that they weren't allowed to get physical with other students. That any issues should be brought to a teacher.
It's bullshit of course, because everyone knows that adults can't be trusted, and even if Auradon adults were different, why would they take an Isle kids' side. If they started fights, or were anywhere near a fight, he knows that they would absolutely be blamed and they'd find themselves back on the Isle before they ever came up with a plan to avoid ever letting their parents know of their return.
So he can't protect his crew and his stashes are starting to spill out of their hiding spots, and he doesn't know what to do as he becomes far more antsy than he usually gets. He's not used to sitting still and doing nothing. He never did take to that lesson, no matter how many beatings he took.
But then Carlos starts picking through his stash and disassembling some of the electronics, and he starts creating things like he did on the Isle. Bizarre things, cool things, useful things.
He looks up from his parts and smiles widely at Jay. "I can make a sensor to let us know if anyone comes into our room," he says. "Do you still have Chad's phone? I can use it to receive alerts."
Jay reaches between the wall and headboard of his bed and flips the shiny device to the brilliant boy. "Set it up to the windows, too."
"Duh." He catches it absently and immediately starts tapping away at it. "Though the only ones likely to use that entrance here in Auradon are us and the girls."
He doesn't feel as guilty the next time he finds his bag stuffed with things he didn't have at the beginning of the day. He's still contributing to his crew's safety.
Evie distracts him in a different way. She drags him into a chair beside her sewing machine and she pours over her designs with him, draping fabric over his shoulders, and he finds that he doesn't mind listening to her enthusiastic chatter, running his fingers over different fabric textures as the princess lights up the whole room.
There's just something about seeing his crew happy and content that calms the restlessness in him.
Mal, as usual, settles him in a vastly different way than the others. When he's bouncing a ball off the ceiling, throwing harder and harder each time he catches it, she huffs and looks up from her sketchbook to glare at him from the opposite bed.
"Don't you have Tourney or something right now?"
"Got canceled," he answers absently, chucking the ball again. His skin is crawling and fingers tingling, and he feels like he should be doing something. Scouting, stealing, training. Something useful- he's learned that he has to be useful. Bad things happen when he's not.
It's been nearly a month since he stole anything for his dad, and he wonders how the shelves are staying stalked. He wonders, if he drags home everything he's collected in Auradon, if he will go easy on him when Jay returns.
Mal growls and snatches the ball out of the air before he can catch it again.
"Lets go," she grunts, chucking the ball to the other side of the room and rolling her shoulders.
"What?" he asks, brain working slow.
"Get up," she demands, and he immediately, obediently, follows her orders. "Let's go," she gestures to herself. "Come at me."
"But-" His brain is still struggling to catch up, to understand her intent- until her intent is made very clear when her foot lashes out, toes of her boot colliding painfully with his shin.
He curses as he immediately shifts it backward, sharp pain racing from his toes to his hip, and then he tackles the fae.
They roll on the floor, elbows and knees finding soft spots, furniture getting knocked into and pushed across the floor, nails cutting into skin as they grapple for a hold, and Mal, the little shit, sinks her teeth into his shoulder.
"Fuck!" he curses, then slams his fist into the back of her head once, twice, until she releases him and he slams his head forward into hers.
She rolls away, swearing at him. She shakes her head harshly, splattering the blood that has started streaming from her nose. She stares across at him, crouched, and licks the line trailing over her upper lip. It smears the red further. Her eyes are green and alight, almost glowing, as she gives a wide, bloodstained, grin.
He barely has time to brace before she is back on him, and they are once again tumbling across the floor. If knives were involved, they'd both be dead a hundred times over. As it is, it's exhaustion that breaks them apart, neither willing to give in first.
After laying, spent, sprawled in the middle of the floor for a good half hour, Mal slowly climbs to her feet and goes to retrieve the first aid kit. She fixes up all his bloody marks and makes sure his nose isn't broken (she busted it in revenge for his headbutt), before finally relenting with an eye roll to let him look over her in return.
"We should do this more often," she hums as he rubs at the smeared blood crusting on her cheek.
Jay snorts. "We aren't supposed to fight in Auradon."
"Who's going to tell them?" she retorts. "Besides, they'd probably only care if we fought with one of them. What's it matter to them, now, that we're a bit bruised."
"True," Jay agrees and closes the medkit. Something like it would be worth everything back on the Isle. And this one came with the room. Apparently, all the rooms have one. He has eight stashed in his closet now.
He bets no one dies from stab wounds here. He bets no one worries about getting stabbed. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, like the taste of his split lip when he runs his tongue over it.
Some parts of Auradon suck. Mostly that he knows it won't last. Not once their parents are free. He may be a slow learner, but everyone knows that villains aren't the forgive and forget sort.
After they get the wand and break the barrier, Auradon will just be a larger version of the Isle.
A/N: Part 3! Please review.
~Silver~