Chapter Text
There was a certain, twisted poetry to the way things were panning out. Mal couldn’t help appreciating it just a little, in the back of her mind.
The part of her that appreciates it grows smaller by the day, as she watches her friends crumble around her.
In the face of this news, the friends she’s made in Auradon don’t matter. The only people that matter are the ones ranged around her, in the tiny room where they’ve been locked and left by Vlasta’s men.
Carlos has retreated entirely, is staring blankly at the wall as if there’s no brain behind his eyes, and Jay is beside himself trying to bring the younger boy back. Lydia and Evie are buzzing around the room as if they’re on drugs, trying to be cheerful, trying to be upbeat, trying to look on the bright side. Mal just sits in the corner and broods. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
They’re going back to their parents, which is shit enough. Their parents are at best deadbeats, at worse, downright dangerous. On top of that are the fucking Auradon kids. The stupid fucking Auradon kids. They’re supposed to be living with the Island kids, and with their parents, and they won’t stand a goddamn chance on the Island. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.
Mal wants badly to forget the friends she’s made here, and the morals. She wants to leave the Auradon kids to sink or swim, and focus on looking out for her pack, the way she always has. It’ll be a chore enough, without worrying about a bunch of sissy hero kids finding food and staying out of trouble on an Island that was nothing but trouble.
But that’s not an option anymore. After sixteen good years hardening herself to unfairness in life, Mal has been utterly undone by the pure good intentions of the people of Auradon. The possibility of being something different, something better than her mother and the people on the island, it had thoroughly intoxicated her. The way they’d lived – mean, hard, and without regard for anyone but themselves – it was the easiest thing about the Isle to let go of.
And now they were headed back. And they couldn’t use any of their old coping mechanisms anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Mal flexed her fingers and spoke for the first time in more than a day. At the sound of her voice, all four faces turned. Even Carlos came back to life. It was a trained response. When Mal spoke, they all listened.
“I know this sucks. I know you guys are scared.” Jay ducks his head at that. With anyone else, he’d argue, but Mal knows him too well to buy into his bluffing. That concession is enough for her, they need to start talking about what actually matters. “We need to think of the Auradonians. They won’t last in there without help.”
“They’ll last,” Carlos argues mulishly. “The magic in the barrier will keep them alive.”
An icy stare from Mal quiets him in a heartbeat. “Are you suggesting we look out for ourselves and let them get hurt?”
The question makes Carlos wince, but ever practical, he sticks to his point. “Being good felt nice, yeah. But we could be good in Auradon. We had the option. We didn’t, on the Island, and we weren’t, and that’s how we survived. We have no reason to think that we can go back to the Island and act good and, and survive.”
Mal takes the point and thinks about it for awhile. Carlos appreciates that about her. She may be the unquestioned leader, but she listens when he talks, when any of them talk. Though he brought up the point himself, and he knows it’s sound, Carlos finds himself hoping that Mal can poke holes in it or come up with a better strategy. Life had been a lot easier when he had more than four people in the world he could count on, when he hadn’t been looking constantly over his shoulder for enemies. He doesn’t especially want to go back to a life where the only certainty was pain and hunger and upheaval. He doesn’t want to subject his Auradon friends to it, either. But the friends in the room with him, the only family he’s ever had…they, and himself, will remain his top priority no matter what. At the cost of whatever bit of his soul he might’ve started to recover in Auradon. No amount of goodness was worth any of their skin.
“We’re going to be good,” Mal informs them, startling Carlos out of his thoughts. “Or at least, we’ll try. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be nice.”
A smile is forming on Jay’s face. “Say more about that.”
Mal shrugs. “We have to steal or we won’t eat. So we’ll keep stealing. We’ll just also make sure the Auradon kids eat, even if they are dead weight.”
Jay nods enthusiastically. Having any kind of a plan makes him feel a little more solid on his feet. “So what rules are we working with here?”
“We don’t hurt people,” Mal starts, checking their reactions. Carlos looks skeptical, so she amends. “As much as possible, we don’t hurt people, and if we have to fight someone, we hurt them as little as possible.”
Unable to resist, Carlos pipes up. “That’s not how you win a fight,” he argues. “You hit first, and you hit hard. Everyone knows that.”
Scowling, Mal tosses her hair. The criticism is frustrating, but only because it’s a good point and she doesn’t know how to counter it. “We do our best,” she finally settles on. “And we make judgment calls about how hard to hit.”
Carlos looks unconvinced. “Won’t that just make fights last longer? And more people will challenge us. They’ll think they can get away with things.”
“Mal still has her green eyes trick,” points out Jay. “And people will try us, sure, but c’mon, we never had a problem before.”
Carlos looks unconvinced. Mal forges ahead anyway. “So we try to avoid hurting people. We steal only from people that can handle it – no taking from younger or weaker kids.”
“Engaging with people who have enough food is also going to generate more fights,” Carlos points out.
“Worth it,” Mal informs him, and though he looks like he wants to argue, Carlos nods. “Okay. Last thing. We look out for each other-”
“Obviously,” Jay snorts, and Mal rolls her eyes at him.
“We look out for each other, and we do our best to look out for everyone else too.”
There’s a silence.
“Everyone?” Jay repeats uneasily. “Like, all the Auradon kids?”
Mal tips her chin up, fights off the uncertainty she feels boiling in her stomach. “Everyone. That means everyone. Island kids, Auradon kids.”
“Everyone.” Jay’s incredulous now. “All the time?”
“Okay,” Mal takes a breath. “People that need help. If someone can look after themselves, we leave them alone. If they’re in a fight that they started, and they’re pretty much getting what they asked for, we leave it alone. But if people need help…”
“So we’re a police force now? For the whole Island?” Carlos’s voice is strained. The question is snarky but Mal can tell that he’s scared.
For a moment, Mal lets herself feel overwhelmed. She knows these are things that they have to do, but actually doing them sounds all but impossible.
Then Evie speaks up for the first time. Ever since Mal cleared her throat to speak, she and Lydia have been perfectly quiet, just listening. Now, Evie clears her throat, and Mal looks to her a little desperately, hoping for a lifeline.
“What did you like about Auradon?”
No one answers for a moment. She levels her gaze at Carlos. “Carlos. What did you like about Auradon?”
“Uh, real food? Things were clean. A nice place to live.”
“C’mon Carlos.”
“Okay, I mean, I liked the people. I liked not being afraid all the time, and pretty much being able to trust people.”
“Exactly.”
“But the Island isn’t like that! How are five kids supposed to make the Island like that?”
Evie sighs. “It has to start somewhere. The world doesn’t just become a good place. It’s work, and it’s hard work, and if we don’t do it, we have no way of knowing that someone will.” Finally, Carlos nods.
“We’ll have the help of the Auradon kids,” adds Lydia, and Evie shoots her a quick smile, grateful for the support. Mal is grateful to both of them – she’d been certain she was going to cave in the face of Carlos’s logic.
Heaving a sigh, Carlos rubs a hand across his forehead. “Okay. Okay, so we’re doing this, then.” He still looks doubtful, and stressed, and more than a little nervous.
“C’mon, dude, there are some soft people, even on the Island,” Jay says gently. “Maybe we’ll even get some help from Island kids.”
“Oh, yeah, like we can count on Cressida, or the Hannigan girls, or fucking…Blaze,” moans Carlos. “They’re the ones we’ll be protecting.”
“Yeah, probably,” admits Lydia with a sigh. “But look, Carlos, c’mon. We’re…we’re better than just sitting by and letting people get hurt when we could stop it. We’re better than that, and we have to act like it.”
“We weren’t better than that before.”
“And then we went to Auradon, and people taught us that things could be different. And if we go back to the way things were before, we’re just taking the easy way out, and, and…” Lydia blows out a long, harsh breath. “And that says something about us, that I don’t want to be true.”
For the first time, Carlos doesn’t have an argument ready. He lifts his shoulders and lets them fall. “No one looked out for us,” he finally said softly.
“What do you mean?” asks Jay roughly. “We look out for each other.”
“Yeah, but…in Auradon, they have power and all, and they could’ve been, y’know, the Island police force. They could’ve looked out for us and made sure we didn’t get hurt, and they didn’t. They yanked us out when we were teenagers and pretty able to look after ourselves, and judged us for having shitty habits we learned on an island solely populated by known criminals. Why do we have to put ourselves in danger because they screwed up? Why do we have to clean up their shitty fucking mess so their spoiled kids don’t get hurt?”
By the time he’s done talking, Carlos’s chest is heaving. He no longer sounds reasoned, or even anxious. His eyes are wide and as Mal watches, dismayed, his lip starts trembling, just a little. Without a word, Jay reaches out and hauls him in, close, tucking the smaller teen under his arm. Standing against Jay, Carlos turns his face against the taller boy’s side and tries to breathe.
After a moment, Evie speaks up. “You’re right, Carlos,” she says softly. “It’s not fair, and it’s not right. But we’re…we’ve got to be better than that. These kids don’t deserve to be hurt because their parents fucked up. They’re…most of them are good people. They don’t deserve this. Anymore than we deserve to be hurt because our parents fucked up.”
Sullenly, Carlos nods into Jay’s side. Mal looks around the room, and they’re all nodding. There’s a tug, almost painful, at her heart. Her people are stepping up, the way they always do, the way she knew they would. Jay’s chin is lifting, Lydia and Evie are exchanging cool, certain glances, and Carlos’s shoulders are rising as he draws breath all the way into his lungs. They’re all gearing up, and there’s that fierce love and deep pride, rising up in Mal.
“So, will you guys have kids staying with you? I’ve got Ben and Cassia.”
“They’ll be pretty easy,” Jay says cautiously. “They’re smart. Conscientious. Will, ah, how do you think Maleficent will be with them?”
Mal tips her head. “Hard to say. We’ll be scouting our own food and water, of course, but I don’t think she’ll care that they’re in the castle. If she can use them as bargaining chips, she will, but she doesn’t need to hurt them for that, and she’s too…” Mal searches for the right word. “Tactical, to do anything to them if there’s nothing in it for her.”
“That’s good,” Evie says, eager to seize on good news.
Shooting her a smile, Mal nods. “Yeah, it is. I’m still not going to put anything past her, but I’m…hopeful?” She snorts. “Hopeful is so the wrong word to be using about Maleficent.” They all chuckle. It’s not much of a joke, but they need the release of tension.
“Yeah, I’m not getting anyone,” Jay volunteers. He still has an arm tight around Carlos’s shoulders, keeping him close. “Probably for the best. You know Jafar. He’d try to make ‘em into thieves, and if they didn’t take to it, which no Auradon kid would, he’d…” Rolling his eyes, Jay huffs, shakes his head. “Well. You guys know.”
“Hey.” Initially, Carlos’s voice is muffled, because he’s speaking directly into Jay’s side. He twists his head just a little, so they can hear him. “Hey, Jay can still steal for Jafar, right? The whole goodness thing doesn’t apply to Jafar’s stupid little trinkets, does it?” The teenagers looked around at each other uneasily. Jay in particular shifted on his feet, and Carlos’s arms reach out, slung low and tight around Jay’s waist. “Jay still gets to steal.”
He says it like a statement, but Mal, Evie, and Lydia are exchanging uncertain glances. “Hey!” They turn back to Carlos. “Jay still gets to steal.”
“I mean, it’s just objects,” shrugs Evie. “If our morality is focused on people’s wellbeing, it shouldn’t really be a problem, right?”
“Yeah,” Mal agrees, but there’s a frown line between her eyebrows. “I mean…it’s not good, obviously. But-”
“But we’re not going to let Jafar beat the shit out of Jay because Auradonians have no concept of the real world.” Carlos snarls out the words.
“I-”
“If we’re focused on people not getting hurt, then Jay gets to steal because if he doesn’t, he’s going to get hurt, and that’s it.”
Glaring at Mal, Carlos is holding Jay so tight now that the older teen shifts, uncomfortable with the squeeze.
“Hey.” Mal’s voice brooks no argument, and no interruption this time. She steps forward, and Carlos’s eyes drop to the floor. One hand closes around Carlos’s wrist, and he lets go of Jay, a little reluctantly. She puts one cold palm against Carlos’s cheek, guides his face up so he meets her eyes. “Do you think that I don’t care about Jay?”
“No,” Carlos answers immediately, honestly. “No, I…I don’t think that.”
“Do you think that Evie and Lydia care about Jay?”
He looks past Mal’s face, meets the eyes of the twins. “Yeah. Yeah of course they do.”
“We’re a family, Carlos,” Mal reminds him. She drops her hand from his face, but he keeps his head up now. Now Mal turns her attention to Jay, setting her palm on his chest. There’s tension in his shoulders – he doesn’t like that she and Carlos are fighting. But as he looks down at her, his face relaxes into a smile. There’s such complete trust there. She could tell him no stealing, they were good now, and he would do it. He would bear every blow from Jafar and never once complain.
And she would never do that to him. On tiptoe, she kisses his cheek, and he chuckles. She feels the vibration in her fingertips. He catches her cheek in his hand and kisses her gently on the mouth. She smiles into it, pulls away and presses her forehead to his, even though she has to strain on her toes to reach him.
“Family,” she repeats, and Jay’s arm snakes behind her and presses her to his chest. He’s so strong. It feels so sure. They’re all in this little room together and the tension has relaxed out of Carlos’s brow, and they’re going to figure it out. They are.
Rather than let go of Mal or Carlos, Jay guides them to the floor and waves the twins over. They come, splitting as they do, so Lydia ends up next to Carlos and Evie by Mal. They press into each other, arms draping over shoulders, leaning in, pulling tighter together. One of the worst parts of Auradon was how divided everyone was, how they all kept away from each other, like touching was weird or unnecessary.
On the Island, people touched like it was nothing. They fucked for fun or for power or out of pure simple boredom. They huddled together for body heat and fought at the drop of a hat and were crowded so close on top of each other that brushing skin was nothing.
So when faced with the idea of returning to abusive parents, rival gangs, food insecurity, and the prospect of singlehandedly introducing the concept of morality on an Island populated by criminals and kids left to fend for themselves…
They pulled together, tight. Carlos and Mal lying against Jay, and Lydia and Evie lying against each of them. Arms around shoulders, hands running through hair, heads on chests, Evie hooking her leg around Mal’s leg, just to feel closer. After a few minutes of just resting there, feeling each other’s warmth, Mal starts again. It feels relentless, it feels unfair, but she knows that they need to know before they get back there. They need a plan.
“Carlos. Are you getting anyone?”
Carlos shifts against Jay. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Merida’s.”
At that, Mal winces, and she feels Evie squirm next to her. There’s a rumble as Jay clears his throat, and Lydia says nothing, but pushes closer to Carlos, who heaves a heavy sigh. “I know. My mom. It’s bad.”
“Three extra kids…” That’s Lydia, her voice freighted with worry.
“She’s…she’s not very patient,” Evie continues. “Leonidas is what, six? Seven? He’s, they’re Merida’s, so they’re going to be loud, and rowdy...”
“I’ll, ah, I should be able to keep the worst of it away from them.”
“How is you putting yourself in the way of those three kids any different than me not-stealing?” It’s Jay’s question, and though Carlos tosses his head at it, he keeps quiet. “If those three kids don’t mind with Cruella around, she’s going to beat the living shit out of you. Way worse than what I’d get from Jafar.” Carlos doesn’t need to concede the point, he just sighs, and seems to shrink against Jay, between him and Lydia. There’s a heavy, painful feeling in the air.
After a few minutes, Carlos speaks, and his voice is rough. “It’s not like I have a choice,” he points out fairly. “If we’re doing this whole looking out for them thing, I can’t…I’ll have to get between them and Cruella. All of them, and Cruella.”
There’s a catch in Mal’s throat that means she needs to swallow, hard, before she speaks. “Carlos, I’m not…I’m, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ask you-”
“No,” Carlos interrupts quietly. “No, I, I know. And I’m not going to just sit around and watch her hurt those dumb, soft kids. ‘S not their fault.”
“We’re not going to sit around and watch Cruella beat you half to death because they don’t know how to act,” Lydia retorts sharply. Carlos smiles darkly.
“With the barrier around, there’s no need to stop at half,” he points out. He knows that it’s a bad joke to make. It’s confirmed when Jay’s arm seizes tight around Carlos’s shoulders, and Lydia’s arms snake around him and hold him tight, and Mal and Evie are reaching for any part of him that they can touch. “I’m okay,” he tells them softly. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay,” Lydia argues, and she sounds angry but they all know it’s a cover for fear. “We’re not going to let her hurt you, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
“Can the little ones stay in the tree house? They’re a handful, but they generally listen to Cerise and Lucia. Maybe Lucia could even stay with them and Cerise…Cerise might actually be useful with all the chores and whatnot.”
Mulling it over, Carlos nods slowly but doesn’t look convinced. “It’s just, she’s Merida’s kid,” he finally says. “They’re all…I mean, she’s known for being headstrong. And outspoken. And three of her kids…”
“Can we put them somewhere else?” It’s Evie’s voice, tremulous.
“No one else will take them. Hell, I don’t know if Cruella will take them. But at least if they’re with me, someone’s trying to look out for them.” Carlos’s tone is grim, but as per usual, he’s being logical and practical and pretty much impossible to argue with.
Unwilling to let it drop, Mal reaches out and squeezes Carlos’s hand. “We won’t let her hurt you,” she promises.
“I know.” There’s still pain on his face. “But it’ll…it’ll just be messy for all of us. I’d…let’s talk about Evie and Lydia, for a bit.”
Mal sighs. “Yeah. Yeah. Guys?”
“We’re, ah…” Evie glances to Lydia.
“We’re getting Audrey,” Lydia finishes quietly. Almost before the name is out of her mouth, Jay is groaning.
“No, c’mon, that’s not fair,” he hisses, and Evie forces a smile. It doesn’t stand up in the face of his glower. She drops her head and turns to Mal, burying her face in Mal’s shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Lydia tries, clearing her throat. “Honestly, it’s fine. She’s just one, and Mom honestly probably won’t have a problem with her, because she’s a princess.”
“She’s going to try to make your lives Hell,” Carlos points out, dry and clear. Lydia’s throat works as she tries to come up with a response.
“She can’t…she’s harmless,” the twin tries feebly, but Jay shakes his head.
“She hurt you,” he snaps, and Lydia’s shoulders sag.
“We’re still going to protect her,” Evie says, in a level, calm tone, having pulled her face out of Mal’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”
“Is there anywhere else we can put Audrey?” Jay looks around at the others.
“She’d…she’d provoke the hell out of Cruella,” Carlos says quietly. “With, um, with the other kids around, I just don’t know-”
“Not you,” Jay snaps. “I’d…I’d offer but Jafar…” It’s hard for him to get the words out; he’s visibly frustrated with himself. “He, um…I think she’d been in danger. He’s a creepy old man, and she wouldn’t listen to me.”
At that thought, Lydia shudders, and Evie doesn’t look much better. “We’ll take her,” Evie says, determination in her voice. “It’ll be fine.”
“Won’t be,” Jay argues darkly.
Evie sighs, Mal can see that she’s clenching her fists. “We’ll be as fine as Carlos,” she finally settles on. “We’ll do our best, and I know you guys will do your best to protect us. At the end of it, it’s just a shitty fucking situation. And…and we’ll all end up hurting. But we’ve got to do this, and we’re going to try, and it’s going to be okay.” She swallows and tips her chin up, looking each of them in the eye in turn. She’s tired and scared and shaky, but she’s determined and she’s trying. Overcome with fondness, Mal presses her lips to Evie’s lips. Evie breathes out a light little sigh through her nose, and then her mouth opens, and the two lean into each other, comfortably, easily.
“C’mere,” Jay tells Lydia, and she scoots close enough for him to kiss her on the head and ruffle her hair. “Would hate for you to feel left out.”
Lydia rolls her eyes, but leans against him and Carlos all the same, not minding the affection. When Mal and Evie are done making out, Evie has a few hickies bruising up her neck, and has the decency to blush when Carlos raises an eyebrow. Mal just smirks, looking utterly self-satisfied. “All right,” she addresses them. “Who else do we have to worry about?”
“Only two other families in this first wave,” Carlos answers. “But…it’s Queen Anna’s, and the Charmings.”
“Shit. Queen Anna’s got like, five kids?”
“Six,” Lydia corrects grimly. “And Charmings have three.”
“Six,” Mal moans. “And I’m guessing they’re being sent to Hans?”
“No way he’ll take them,” mutters Jay. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for them. They won’t last a night on their own.”
“Yeah,” agrees Evie, wincing at the thought. “We may have to divide them and each take one or two.”
“That’ll be fine,” Mal says in a clipped tone. She’s getting overwhelmed and trying not to show it. “The Charmings?”
“They’ll be with Cressida,” Carlos answers quickly. “As long as we make sure no one messes with them, they’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Mal nods. “Good. That’s good.”
“It is good,” agrees Jay softly. “Now, Mal, try to breathe, okay? You don’t have to carry all this by yourself. We’ll figure it out together. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Mal forces a smile. “It’ll be okay.”
“It’ll be okay,” echoes Evie, glancing over to cue Lydia.
“It’ll be okay, her twin agrees.
Now they’re all looking at Carlos expectantly. He rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine, you weirdos. It’ll be okay.”
It’s like a ritual, like a prayer. They huddle tight together, and hope that somehow the words will be enough to guard them in the coming days.
It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.