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"Oh, Mal," was the first thing Mal heard as she came to. Her body ached. She blinked, trying to orient her vision to make sense of the room and her surroundings. Everything was blurry, but she could make out the familiar patterns of moonlight streaming in through half-boarded up windows. Was she back at the hideout?
"Shhh, you're safe," a gentle voice murmured beside her.
Evie.
The rest of the pieces slowly came together, and Mal remembered.
Chains, trapping her against the dungeon wall. Another punishment from her mother. She couldn't even remember what she'd done this time, wasn't sure if there had been any real reason at all. How long had she been down there? How had she gotten here?
"Wha-" Mal mumbled. Her lips were dry and her throat hurt. Her limbs wouldn't move.
"Water," came Evie's command, and then Mal felt hands helping her sit upright. The movement was slow, and she heard Evie muttering encouragement, telling her how strong she was, and all Mal could think about was how pathetic she must seem.
A glass was brought to her lips, and Evie continued murmuring soothing words, her fingers tangling in Mal's hair as she cradled the back of her head with her other hand, guiding Mal to drink. There was a coppery tinge to the water as it slipped past her cracked lips, but she drank it down all the same. She'd died of thirst on the Isle before; it was a gruesome way to go.
Another swallow sent water spilling down the wrong pipe, and Mal choked, bursting into a coughing fit that sent pain radiating through her bones.
"Okay, you're okay. Shhhh, just take deep breaths. There's no need to rush." The same soft reassurance, although Mal could feel the discomfort building in her chest.
It was wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything was wrong.
She shifted her body away from Evie. Her stomach contracted, twisting and churning violently. There was a flurry of activity around her, and then Evie was touching her, holding her steady. She could hear worried voices nearby, and realized with a new twinge of panic that Carlos and Jay must be somewhere in the hideout with them.
Either that or her mother’s torments had finally driven her insane.
The idea of Evie seeing her like this was bad enough, but knowing her entire crew was here almost left Mal wishing she was back in the dungeon.
"Sorry. M'fine," she rasped, head lowering to her knees despite her hard-earned instinct to echo her words with her actions, to jut her chin out and hold her head high. But the pain had burrowed under her skin, entwining with the exhaustion that always lived just beneath the surface, and all she wanted to do was disappear.
Her muscles tensed as she felt Evie's arms wrap around her, her chin coming to rest on the top of Mal’s head. Mal clenched her jaw tight, attempting to keep herself from trembling. She was fully aware of how vulnerable she appeared right now, and hated it. There was no place for this on the Isle. No room for friendship, or comfort, or anything that would make her seem weak.
She could practically hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head, spitting out the words.
How disappointed Maleficent would be if she could see her now.
"None of that," Evie said, breaking through the haze, and for a moment Mal wondered if she was pulling the thoughts right out of her brain. "I've got you, M. There's nothing to be sorry for."
Mal felt herself start to relax as Evie gently stroked her hair, everything else fading away. Whispered promises of a better life waiting for them in Auradon filtered through. One where they were safe, and free, and where the horrors of the Isle could never touch them again.
It was a frivolous dream, they all knew that. But just this once, drifting off in Evie's arms, Mal let herself dream it, too.