Maleficent was not dead, of that she was sure, because her every muscle felt like it was on fire and her every bone ached as if they had been crushed into a fine powder. In short, she was in an immense amount of pain. She was aware of the grass she was face-down in, aware of the mud that was caked onto her body, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to care. At that moment she would have liked nothing more than a hot bath and a long rest. 'Phillip will rue the day he dared cross me,' she thought as she attempted to lift her battered body off the ground.

She groaned at the attempted exertion and collapsed back onto the ground, too weak to move.

…...

Not too far down the road, a young child, no more than four, was playing with a pink ball that had Princess Aurora stamped on one side. She sighed as she played, fervently wishing for someone her own age to play with. Being an only child was hard, and it was even harder when one was the only child on the street. She caught her ball from a particularly high bounce and glared at cartoon Aurora. She had wanted the Maleficent ball, but her mother had refused and gotten her that one instead.

'A little girl should want to be princess,' she had said 'not a villian.' Well, she wasn't like other little girls. When they screamed at the Disney villians and villianesses, she laughed. Whereas they drew knights and princes, she drew witches and vampires. She had long ago accepted that she was different, but she was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Lost in thought, she didn't catch her ball on the bounce and it began to bounce down the road.

"Come back ball!" she called in distress.

She wasn't allowed to go out of the yard. Her mother made that perfectly clear. But her ball was only a few hundred yards down the road, and in a ditch at that. Hesitantly, and glancing over her shoulder every few seconds, the child crept out of the yard and ventured down the street. It wasn't particularly busy, and she sensed no danger.

"There you are," she said as she picked up the pink sphere. "You know you can't bounce off like that," she scolded as she turned to go back home.

She almost didn't notice the green-skinned woman a few feet away. Almost. She was lying face-down in the ditch, and the girl was worried she might be hurt. Cautiously, ball forgotten on the ground, she walked over the woman.

…...

Maleficent could hear footsteps coming close to her. From the vibrations, she guessed their owner was small, perhaps a child, and therefore posed no threat. It was more than likely that once they saw her they would scream and run away. She stiffened when she felt a small chubby hand on her shoulder. 'Definitely a child,' she decided. 'And a young one at that.'

"Hey, are you okay?" a girl's voice asked.

…...

Maleficent managed the energy to turn her head and open one gold eye. The child, (she had guessed correctly in assuming it was young), backed up a few steps. Then, instead of the expected scream or gasp, she smiled.

"You're Maleficent," she proclaimed, and the sorceress was impressed that she was able to pronounce her name.

"Indeed I am," though raspy, her voice was as regal as always. A small mouth formed an 'o'. "What, may I ask, is your name? Since you already seem to know mine."

"Angelica Rose Casper, but I like Rose better."

Her name fit her. Hair as black as night, lips that weren't quite red but not quite pink either, and eyes as green as the grass. Maleficent's lip curled in contempt. Another Rose, just what she needed at the current moment. She tried to sit up, but hissed and remained where she was.

Rose, realizing what she wanted, gripped her shoulders gently and pulled her into a sitting position. The woman grimaced in pain the whole time, eyes clenched tight, only opening at the horrified gasp emitted from the child.

"You're bleeding!" Rose cried, hands searching pockets for the big bandage she knew she had.

Glancing down, Maleficent realized she was indeed bleeding from a large gaping hole in her chest. And that was not the only thing she noticed. She was as naked as the day she was born, even her headdress was missing. Quickly, she flipped her head and her long black hair covered her chest. For the first time in a long time she was glad she hadn't cut it off as her mother had suggested.

The child approached her with what looked like a large wad of cotton shaped like a rectangle. Gently, so as not to hurt her further, Rose pushed the hair aside and pressed the large band-aid over the hole. Maleficent tolerated the touch, merely because it slowed the blood flow and didn't harm her further. Large green eyes met her gold.

"How come Phillip didn't kill you when he ran you through?"

"Because dragons' hearts are in different places than humans." She blinked, the question sinking in. "How do you know about that?"

"I have the movie."

"Movie? What is a movie?"

Rose beamed up at her before taking her hand. "I'll show you."

Carefully, Maleficent stood. With a wave of her hand, a simple black dress covered her and saved what little dignity she had left. Walking slowly, they made it to Rose's yard, just as a woman came out yelling for her daughter. The girl cringed and dropped the sorceress' hand.

"You better wait here. Mama won't like it if she sees you, she's already mad because I wandered off."

Stepping around the side of the house, she bravely marched over to her angry mother.

"Here I am, Mama."

"Rose! Where have you been? And where's your ball? Honestly, do you have no respect for your things?"

"It bounced down the road, Mama. And I know you said not ta leave the yard, so I let it go." Maleficent leaned around the corner to watch the exchange, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. This seemed to pacify Rose's mother somewhat, and her face softened. "I was around the house climbing in the tree. It took me a few minutes to get down."

That appeared the wrong thing to say however, as her mother's face reddened.

"What have I told you about climbing trees? You insolent little-!"

A smack sounded as her hand connected with her daughter's cheek. The sorceress' eyes narrowed as she watched the display. To her credit, Rose didn't cry or make a sound. The only evidence she had been hit was the rapidly reddening hand print on her face. Her mother yelled for a few more minutes before stalking into the house.

Rose returned to Maleficent's side, and she could see tears glittering in green eyes.

"Let me see," she said gently. She tilted her head up and place a finger on the bruise. The child gasped as the pain faded. "Better?" Maleficent asked with a gentle smile.

Rose nodded, amazed. The woman chuckled, the sound warm and rich and nothing like the evil witch in her movie.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Why are you not afraid of me?" Maleficent countered, and Rose dipped her head in acknowledgment.

"Because you were my favorite in the movie. And I don't think you're really evil, I just think you need love."

If anyone else had said that to her, she would have killed them on the spot. As it was, only three things kept her from doing that. Her magic was weak, Rose was but a child, and she had been kind enough to help her. 'Perhaps I'm going soft,' she mused as she allowed the small child to sneak her into the house. 'Had that been any other person, child or no, I wouldn't have hesitated in killing them.'

And you healed her, her mind voiced. 'I know. I must be insane. She shows me a little kindness and I melt.' She's the only person to ever show you kindness.

'Fair enough.' Admit it—you care about her. 'Shut up.' What in God's name had she gotten herself into?