The feeling of dread that had washed over Jay when he made his way to meet his father was something he sincerely hoped nobody experienced. He shouldn't let his father have this much control of him, he knew that. But no matter what, his body never reacted how he wanted it to. It always froze up at the wrong moments and he could never get his thoughts out into the open and say what he wanted to.

Sometimes he didn't understand it. When he was out stealing, when he needed to fight or be intimidating to get what he needed he never had problems doing it. As long as it didn't involve his dad, he was strong. He knew what he wanted and he took it and he didn't care what the ramifications were. He could leave a store after robbing it blind and feel like he was on top of the world, until he came back home to be greeted by his father.

Jafar father had always been cold towards him. There had never been a time in his life when he had given any indication that he cared for Jay as his own child. Sometimes, Jay was jealous of the villain kids who had parents who paid attention to them. He knew it was in a twisted kind of way. They were probably being used to, but he knew kids who, at one point, had genuinely enjoyed their parents company. Jay was never going to have that, no matter how hard he tried, but it still never made a difference. Jay would always keep trying.

He hoped he had enough. There was an array of old knives and knock off jewelry filling his pack, so much so that he was having trouble keeping it closed. That should be a sign to guarantee he had enough, but one never knew with his father.

Jay breathed a large sigh and straightened his shoulders, making his way into the bottom floor of their home — where the shop was located. The door creaked as it opened and Jay's eyes squinted at the shift in lighting. It was dark. His father didn't want to pay for lighting, so he opted for natural lighting. There was only one small block window that let the sun in, so it was usually fairly dark in the place. Jafar said it made it easier to trick people into buying things. They couldn't always make out what exactly it was they were buying.

Jay brushed past racks, clinking an array of items — mugs, bracelets, watches — as he did so. The place was tight and uninviting. It held countless horrors from Jay's childhood and he'd like to classify the shop as his own personal hell.

"I've got your stuff!" Jay yelled as he placed his bag onto the dirt spattered countertop. He spilled out the contents of his bag and placed them in a neat order. He used to leave it in a big pile to trick his dad into thinking there was more, but Jafar had eventually caught on and had left Jay with a black eye for a week. So, he stopped doing that.

At the sound of floorboards creaking and the distinct familiar patter of step, step, steeeep, Jay's breath caught in his throat. He brushed at his hair and stepped away from the counter, a blank stare forming onto his face as Jafar descended from the steps that lead to their home.

"Thought you were going to be late," Jafar muttered. The cuff of his left sleeve was rolled up while his right was down. He smelt heavy of smoke, and he looked like he had just woken up.

"I have what you asked for, and a little more." Jay braced himself. Jafar gave him a quick glance over and then went back to looking at his new items, barely making time for Jay.

The silence was thick in the air as Jafar counted and counted again. After minutes of tension, Jafar picked at a knife and pulled it up to his eye to examine it closer. He made humming noises in the back of his throat before roughly slamming his fist onto the countertop, causing the knives to clatter together loudly. Jay flinched.

"Half of these knives are unsellable." Jafar's voice was quiet, testing Jay. It was the calm before the storm. Jay had seen it countless times before. "Why would you give me knives that are unsellable?"

"I cleaned them. I— I think some of them are nice enough that you could sell for a little higher—" Jay went to pick up the gold tipped knife. His hand was immediately grazed by the knife that his father had been holding.

"I shouldn't have to upsale. My son should know to give me enough inventory." It was happening. The tone was slowly rising and the anger was reaching his eyes. Jay brought his hand back and wiped at the blood collecting around the shallow cut.

Silence followed. Jafar was clearly debating something and Jay patiently waited to see what was going to happen. Jafar bit at the inside of his cheek, shooting Jay a hard glare and then spoke. "You know what happens when you don't bring me enough."

Jay wanted to recoil. His stomach was already rumbling at the thought. "Dad," He pleaded, "I haven't eaten once today. Please just let me have dinner, at least."

"Stop!" Jafar shouted. "There is only so much food going around. I'm not going to award you with food when you have been underperforming."

"I need food, Dad!" Jay didn't know what he was going to do. He'd probably have to look around in the dumpsters, or go steal it from the nearby store.

"That's not my problem. You want to get mad at someone boy, get mad at Auradon. They're the bastards that won't give us enough food. Don't you forget that. If they would give us enough, I wouldn't have to punish you like this."

Jay nodded solemnly, wanting to scoff. Auradon. He bet they were all so fat that they couldn't fucking walk with all the food they hoarded.

Jafar sighed. "You can leave."

Jay didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his bag and bolted out the door. He didn't know where he was going but he didn't want to be at home. He could maybe visit Mal. He'd usually go looting for things that he could use for his room, but he was exhausted from the day.

The aromas of the villages filled his nose. It was a mix of day old bread, sewer, and trash. It was never pleasing, and yet it was home. The smell of bread made his stomach rumble, and he looked down at it in frustration.

"Mal's it is then." She usually had food. Maleficent, bless her very dead soul, somehow managed to always have a pretty decent stock of food. It was shit food, but it was food.

By the time he made it to Mal's castle, the sun was nearly done setting and smog weighed heavy in the air. There was an eerie silence and Jay shuffled quickly up the door, knocking three times. He kicked at the dead grass while he waited. A long time ago, he thought there used to be flowers. Everything used to be prettier when they were younger.

The heavy door was pulled open and Jay was met with Maleficents green eyes. "Oh," She spoke, annoyed if anything. "It's just you." Her green eyes were replaced with muted blue ones.

"Yep." Jay grinned. "Me."

"What do you want?"

"Mal home?" Jay leaned in, causing Maleficent to lean back over to block his view.

"Maybe." She shut the door slightly. She almost always did this. She usually had to be "bribed" to let Jay in. Jay didn't mind. It was a fun little game to him.

"I saw a beautiful black necklace in the market today. I think it'd suit you perfectly. I could get it to you by the end of the week?" His eyes twinkled and he smiled wide, watching as Maleficent thought over the deal.

She grinned, motioning Jay in. "Wonderful."

Jay's feet worked fast as he padded u p the stairs and made his way to Mal's door. He didn't bother with knocking as he barged in.

"Yo," He greeted.

Mal seemed unbothered as she turned around casually. When her eyes met Jay's she jumped with joy, dashing over to grip Jay by his shoulders. "Jay!"

"Mal!" Jay repeated, a nervous laugh escaping.

"Just the guy I wanted to see!"

What now, Jay thought.

"I really need to go out selling tonight and I can't find Uma—"

Jay broke away, leaning himself against Mal's rickety bedroom door. Sometimes he wondered if Mal understood what personal space was. "I'll go with you."

If possible, Mal's smile got wider, showing her yellow teeth in all their glory. She jumped forward again, landing a big wet kiss on Jay's cheek.

Jay rubbed at the wetness on his cheek. "Stop with the affection," He said at the same time Mal shouted, "You know me so well."

Jay had gone on drug runs a couple times before with Mal. They were relatively easy. They never took much with them, in case someone tried to jump them. They always brought several weapons and made sure they agreed on a game plan. Most of the time they just dealt to stupid high schoolers. It wasn't really anything to worry about.

The best place to deal was a few blocks from the docks. There were usually several palettes and crates that were easy to hide behind. It was always best for them to be discreet. By the time they got to the crates, Jay quickly analyzed and spotted a few people they could easily deal to. He didn't say this, of course. He wasn't there to give suggestions or help sell. He was simply Mal's protection. This was her show to run.

Mal spotted her usual customers. She smiled wickedly and within seconds they had traded the money and weed. High schoolers always bought so much fucking weed. Jay couldn't imagine having to pay for weed, the idiots. These kids decided to starve so they could get high. The perks of being friends with Mal was he could get high whenever he wanted, free of charge.

The night was going relatively well. There were a few people ho tried to haggle the price but all Jay had to do was flash his knife and they were good to go. And if Mal had just listened to Jay, the night would've kept going well. But, Mal never listened to Jay. She never listened to anyone, so, it was inevitable, really.

"You got any meth?" Had been shouted at them. Jay didn't know who it was. That usually meant it was some irrelevant villain who really wasn't a villain at all, just some poor guy who did bad things and got stuck here on the Isle. The guy immediately sent alarm bells off in Jay's head. Plus, generally, anybody who wanted meth was on the crazy side.

"Ignore him, Mal." Jay grabbed Mal's arm as she went to make her way towards him. She whipped around, glaring, as she grabbed at the hand on her arm.

"Shut the fuck up and let me do what I know how to do." He couldn't really stop her then.

Jay stuttered in place, debating on if he was supposed to wait back or move forward with Mal. It didn't really seem like she wanted him to and he didn't want to screw up a sale.

Within minutes of Mal talking with the guy he knew he should have gone with her. He doesn't know what causes it but suddenly the guy is raging like a lunatic and he can see Mal wielding around a rock in the air, shouting that she will knock him the fuck out.

"Oh fucking hell," Jay groaned to himself,. His feet landed harshly on the concrete as he bolted to Mal's side. The screaming was making Jay's ears ring and he didn't know who to stop first. Mal, or this psycho meth addict. As Jay went to grab the rock from Mal's hand, a glint of silver caught his eye.

In the meth addicts hand was a tiny, silver pistol. Christ. The guy had a gun.

"Mal, he has a gun." Jay stated, breaking the screaming that had been ensuing for several minutes.

"What?" Mal looked at Jay and then back at the pistol wielder. How the hell had he gotten a gun onto the Isle.

"How did a drug addict get a hold of a goddamn gun," Mal stated because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Of course, she was more worried on why he had it and not the fact that she just tried to take out a guy holding a gun with a rock.

"I'll use it on you too you piece of—" Within a blink of an eye the guy had raised the gun, ready to aim it at Mal's head. Before Jay even really knew what was happening, he had simultaneously pushed at the guys hand holding the gun and at his side. The guy let out a sharp cry, falling over onto the concrete. Startled, Jay looked down to see the hilt of the knife he had been gripping in his right hand was sticking out of the guys side, blood gushing out.

"Oh my god," Jay muttered. He had not meant to do that.

"That won't kill him," Mal responded, as if this was the most normal occurrence of the entire day.

She was right. So with shaking hands, Jay took the hilt from his side, and jammed it right into his heart. There was a loud squelching sound that followed. Jay and Mal watched in fascination as blood drained faster from the body, pooling a great big circle of blood underneath. The body convulsed, stuttering, finally into death.

As this night occurred, unbeknown to Mal or Jay, there were two scientists looking through palettes, searching for ingredients. Carlos and Evie had gone to the palettes to get different ingredients for their new recipes for bombs they were trying to make. They didn't expect that they would find much, but it was worth a chance, especially since it was a new shipment.

"You think we'll find gasoline?" Evie questioned, feeling what boxes were heaviest. They always seemed to find the things they needed in the heavy boxes.

"I hope so." Carlos shook the contents of a dark bottle he found and put it aside.

The pair worked quickly, rummaging through each box. After years of practicing, they had gotten relatively fast at going through new shipments. It used to take them several days, now they could get it done in a long night. It was nice. They got to mess around like kids and escape their parents for a little bit. Evie would do it forever, if she could.

As Evie was making her way to a new palette she heard a sharp cry. She snapped her head over to Carlos. "What was that?"

Carlos shrugged. "Sounds interesting." Carlos looked down into the box, grabbing a random bottle before dashing over to the area that the sound occurred.

"What—" Evie stuttered. She was left staring at the spot Carlos had been standing in. "You idiot!" She yelled, running after him. She didn't get very far before she was crashing into the warm back of the freckled boy.

"Ow—what is—" Evie began but then stopped, following Carlos' gaze.

In front of them, who she thought to be Jafar's kid, was currently holding a knife in some guy's chest. And staring directly at them was Maleficent's daughter, Mal.

"Shit." Evie found herself whispering.

"You." Carlos spoke with disdain, seemingly oblivious to the dead body on the ground. He locked eyes with the guy kneeling on the ground. Jay, he thought. And here he had been thinking he had been a decent guy for being somewhat nice to Carlos. Carlos watched as Jay's eyes lit up with recognition. He quickly let go of the knife, wiping his hands as he bolted up. He looked like he was ready to run.

"What the hell are you doing." Carlos spoke. Evie squeezed his arm, pleading for him to stop talking. Neither person responded. Silence hung heavy in the air as the four stared at each other, all daring the other to make one move.

Jay's head snapped to meet Mal's eyes. With the sparse light that lit up Jay's face, Carlos could make out the details of the creases between his eyebrows. He was worried. "What do we do?" Jay looked back down again.

Mal looked at Jay, then at Carlos and Evie pointedly. "Nobody move a fucking inch. I'm going to fix this." Mal huffed, bending down to roughly pull out the knife residing in the villains chest. Blood began gushing and they all couldn't help but admire it before Mal brushed by Carlos and Evie.

"I'm serious. You two move one inch and I'll slit your throats." They could do nothing but nod in response.

In the silence, Carlos continued to make note of Jay. He had grown several inches, and several muscles since the last time he had seen him. Then again, it had been two years. It was kind of expected. He wanted to say something. He was smart enough not to.

Within minutes Mal was back, a younger looking guy following right behind her. They all looked at her in confusion.

"Okay, so where is my molly. You said he'd have it?" The guy looked over to Jay. The guy made the mistake of looking down. His eyes widened at the sight of the bloodied body.

"Yeah,no," Mal chuckled and without warning, sank Jay's knife into the poor guy's stomach. It was yanked out and plunged back in again, and again, and again. In unison Jay, Evie and Carlos shouted in horror.

"Mal!" Jay jumped back, avoiding the blood that had been flying everywhere. Jay wished that she had given them a warning, at least.

Nobody dared to speak as Mal slung the body onto the ground. "There, it's fixed." Her stony, blank face was quickly replaced with concern as she looked back up at Jay. "I did that for you. I fixed it for you because you protected me." Was Jay supposed to say thank you?

She looked at the other two. "Help us move these bodies." And they really didn't have a choice.

Carlos moved first, grasping at a leg. The body was heavy, and he tried not to think as they worked together to move it. He watched in wonder as their moving of the body smeared a trail of red across the ground. If it was in any other situation, he would've thought it was a little beautiful. Carlos felt a sharp gaze on him and he looked up to find that Jay was staring at him intently. Carlos licked his lips, frowning. Jay stared for a few mores seconds before looking away, shaking his head.

"We're gonna leave them by each other. Make it seem like they fought one another." Mal said as they dropped the bodies into position. They thudded loudly.

"But, it's my knife, they'll know," Jay provided albeit quietly. He wished he could be strong like Mal was being. He wasn't even that upset about ending somebody's life. He just…didn't know what to do. How were they not going to get caught?

With that, Mal began searching the bodies, digging through pockets and bags. After grueling silent seconds, she whipped out a clean shiny knife from the second victim's pocket. "Hah!" And without warning again, plunged it into their chest before pulling it out and laying it on the ground. The once shiny knife was now a dark red, an obvious weapon in a murder.

"Problem solved." Jay couldn't really help but laugh at Mal. Mal looked back at Carlos and Evie. Mal could tell the girl was scared but was trying not to be. She was shaking but her face remained stoic. She wouldn't let go of Cruella's kid. "You're gonna get rid of Jay's knife."

Jay stood, numb. Blood dripped from his hands and he had to refrain from grasping at his hair. He couldn't go home covered in blood.

If you looked from an outsiders point of view you would see the boy thief with long hair and dark eyes, blood dripping from his hands as the white-haired boy and his blue-haired companion stared wide-eyed at the dead bodies laying at their feet. To anybody else, it was clear this was the start of something.

Mal could sense their hesitation. Standing up, she said calmly, "You're in this now, whether you like it or not."