CARLOS

Carlos learned from a very early age that staying silent and unnoticed was always the best thing for him. Even if that meant not eating for several days when Cuella forgot that he existed, it was still better than having her attention, whether she was in her good-crazy or bad-crazy moods.

Her disposition could always flip without warning, one minute doting on him, petting him, calling him a good boy, the next with fistfuls of his hair and screaming and raking her nails across his neck, or putting her cigarettes out on his skin.

It was best to just steer clear. Do everything he can to be forgotten- mop the floors, do dishes, clean up, all before he had to be asked. And if his mother did remember that he existed, be a good dog and follow all of her commands.

He didn't know that he wasn't actually a dog until he was six years old. Hadn't met another human until then, either.

By then, he pretty much knew everything he needed to know. Be small. Don't draw attention. Don't do anything to remind people that you exist. If someone does notice you, be ready to run for when their mood flips.

Meeting Evie was revolutionary. Evie was everything Cruella was not. Calm, soft spoken, put together. Not a hair out of place. He liked Evie. He liked Evie a lot, and he'd never wanted to spend time around someone before.

And through Evie, he met Mal and Jay, and they became gang. He learned that, while everything else was unpredictable, his gang was safe. Being with them was as effective as hiding in a closet or being forgotten.

Auradon didn't feel all that different to him than the Isle. It's a different place, but the rules were still the same. There was safety in not being noticed. And he'd gotten used to some of the attention that came with being connected with Mal, but in Auradon it suddenly felt a hundred times worse. It's like every eye was following him, watching him, waiting for him to do something. It wasn't as bad when he was with the others- they seem to draw most of the attention- but they're not with him all the time.

The first day of classes wasn't so bad because, even if their eyes were on them, they kept their distance. Same with the second day. But on the third day, they had his measure and one of them said something that might be friendly and slapped Carlos on the back.

Carlos was out of his seat and out of the room before anyone else could react.

…

His teacher was angry. Carlos didn't know why, he never knows why, but he could tell immediately even though his teacher tried to hide it. So when he tried to corner Carlos after class the next day, Carlos once again bolted for the door.

The next day, the teacher stood beside the door after telling Carlos to stay back, ready to block it if Carlos made a dash for it. Carlos thought he would be over it by then, people usually were; rage comes in flashes and burns out quickly if you can avoid them long enough after the initial insult (whatever that insult was).

Carlos almost made a break for the window instead, but then a door caught the corner of his eye and he changed directions, closing himself in the supply closet and barricading the door.

He panted for breath and pulled his limbs in close to his body to avoid the bear traps. Other than the traps, the closet is safe. He's forgotten when he's in the closet. His hands covered his ears to block out the crazed shrieks of his mother screaming at the walls, and he tried to breathe, and he ignored everything else.

He didn't know how long passed before a soft knock registered, muffled, through his hands. A calm, familiar, voice followed. "Carlos? It's me. Can I come in?" It's only at that point that, at some point, he noticed that the screaming had dissipated. Not actually there, just like the things in the walls his mother shouted at.

Carlos breathed out in relief and scrambled to open the door. Evie stepped in and immediately closed it behind her before carefully lowering herself onto the floor. Carlos shuffled closer, leaning into her. She held his hand in the dark.

"Are you present?" she asked him. He tapped the back of her hand twice in acknowledgement. "Mr. Deley asked you to stay back because he wanted to talk to you about why you ran out of class the other day, and yesterday when he wanted to talk to you. He's not angry anymore. At least, he doesn't seem it. He says you aren't being punished and should try asking to be excused if you need a break, instead of running."

Carlos tapped again, letting her know he heard.

Evie sighed, and her head dropped sideways against his. "Auradon is strange, isn't it?"

He licked his lips and managed to get out a hoarse, "Yeah," in agreement. She squeezed his hand before straightening and climbing to her feet.

"Come on, Mal and Jay are bringing lunch back to the room to eat there."

Carlos scrambled upright quickly, stomach snarling in anticipation. That was one thing different from the Isle. Food in Auradon was unbelievably easy to get.

Carlos learned, as the days passed, that Auradon was vastly different in other ways too. Teachers weren't allowed to put their hands on students. Students weren't supposed to put their hands on each other, either. It's the rules, ones actually written down for everyone to know and not learn all on their own.

Carlos was, supposedly, safe in Auradon. He could recognize this intellectually. He was really very smart. He learned very quickly when given the opportunity. Up until crossing the barrier, everything he knew was mostly self-taught through scavenging and experiments.

But he found that he couldn't unlearn the things he knew. He couldn't convince himself that attention wasn't going to bring rage and misfortune onto him. He knew by then that Cruella was sick. That most people's moods don't flip so drastically from one second to the next, that they don't yell at things that aren't there, but he still expected it all to go wrong any minute.

He still found himself running, without thought, only to find himself in a closet when his brain eventually came back to him, one of his pack knocking gently at the door.

It became a regular thing. The teachers don't get mad. Anyone and everyone in Auradon prep knew to just go get one of the other Isle kids, they were the only ones who could get him to come out.

It became Mal flopping onto the closet floor with him, taking up the majority of the space as her leg bumped against his toes, and one of her hands gripped his ankle, and she stared up at the ceiling as she played with fire in her other hand.

Her magic lit up the dark space enough that he could see the brooms and buckets and school supplies, and know that the mop brushing his cheek wasn't his mother's precious furs. She would lay there until he had his voice back and he'd tell her that they could go, and then she would grumble about having to go back to class, and it made him smile.

Because Mal can be cruel and villainous, but never in those moments, to him, when they were alone and he felt his most vulnerable. Back on the Isle, she'd turn all of that maliciousness on whoever caused this, whoever harmed him, and they'd either walk away with the lesson not to mess with what's hers, or they wouldn't walk away at all.

There's nothing to attack in Auradon, though, and it's left Mal grumpier than usual not to have any direction for her frustrations. Mal has never been good at doing nothing.

It became Jay pushing into the closet and engulfing him, even though Carlos didn't really like being touched, but sometimes being squished so completely was nice and helped him calm down quicker.

Jay, unlike the girls, babbled constantly about everything and anything, and Carlos didn't have time to lament on his thoughts or reactions, because Jay was jumping from one subject to the next and Carlos liked listening to Jay and he was trying to keep up.

And when Carlos started to feel claustrophobic and squirmy, Jay would release him and scoot back to the opposite wall, not even pausing in his chatter as he used his newly freed hands in wild, floppy, gestures.

It became prime and proper Evie, who is always worried about perceptions and clothing wrinkles and being perfect, sitting down on a dirty floor in the dark as people pass by and whisper just outside the door. She would always hold his hand, and he liked her holding his hand. It was familiar and comforting and not really anything anyone else ever did.

She would tell him that no one was angry with him, that Cuella wasn't there, that Mal would be standing guard outside the door by now (she always was whenever Evie got to him first). Carlos always eventually believed her. She's never lied to him, and they aren't like the people of Auradon who like to try and make things prettier than they are. False comfort doesn't keep you safe.

Even if Carlos's subconscious brain couldn't recognize that Auradon was as safe as safe can be, he knew that his gang was, and that they would protect him from anything no matter where they were.

A/N: Part 4! Please review.

~Silver~