. . .
. . .
. . .
"How could you do this, Mal...?"
. . .
"Why did you do it, Mal...?"
. . .
"What will you do now, Mal...?"
. . .
. . .
. . .
Mal's eyes shot open and fluttered before she sat up and rubbed them. Regaining her vision and taking in her surroundings, her eyebrows arched in confusion. The color palette of blue, white, and grey made her think that she was in the clinic section of Auradon Prep or one of its many hospitals at least. However, the arrangement of the required equipment seem too sophiscated even for them; it was also too simple to discern it from the Isle of the Lost if they had any hospitals whatsoever. As such, it was caught in the in-between stage. An IV machine was set up to her right with the tubes leading into her right arm, while her leather clothing was stripped off her and replaced with a light blue patient's gown. Through it, she could see the wounds and scars sprinkled throughout her practically naked body. Fear and anxiety soon substituted her land of confusion in short succession, leaving a heavily breathing teenage girl on her bed.
Where... Where am I?
The door suddenly opened and Mal became defensive, albeit unable to properly defend herself from whoever entered the room. However, she visibly relaxed upon taking a very good look at the man who set foot inside. Standing before her with a look of concern as the primary facial expression...was the most buff, most muscular man that Mal had ever seen. Had it not been for the white bandages wrapped around his left arm and torso, she would be forgiven for believing that he was the doctor or nurse checking up on her. In a similar manner to how she could saw her injuries through her patient's gown, Mal could see the man's abs through his waist bandages: he was absolutely ripped. Complemented by his blue-green eyes and light brown (almost platinum blonish) hair swept to the side, he was perfect... A pure paragon.
Oh, wait. What am I saying? You're still technically Ben's girlfriend.
"How are you, Miss?"
Goodness. His voice...
"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Mister..."
"Rogers. Steve Rogers."
"Mr. Rogers. I am Mal...the daughter of Maleficent."
. . .
"Maleficent, the most vile villain around. The Mistress of Evil, the sinners to destroy all sinners... No?"
"No, ma'am. I don't believe I have ever heard of your mother."
"Oh. I guess you're one of the lucky ones." Ignoring Steve's confused look, Mal looked around again before asking, "I don't mean to ask you, but...where am I?"
"No problem, Miss. You're in the New Avengers Facility."
"New Avengers? You mean there were old Avengers?" Mal's eyebrows shot up in intrigue, "Plus... The Avengers?"
"Earth's Mightiest Heroes. The original team consisted of me, Iron Man, Black Widow, The Hulk, Thor, and Hawkeye. The new team consists of War Machine, The Falcon, Scarlet Witch, and Vision."
"Well, if they're Earth's Mightiest Heroes, then why haven't I heard of them?"
"I... I don't really know."
"Because this isn't your Earth."
Mal and Steve turned to find a woman around the latter's age enter the room. She had deep auburn hair that was curled and reached to her shoulders, complementing her green eyes. She wore a sleek black uniform with leather boots and an utility belt with a red hourglass as its symbol.
"You're from another dimension," The woman opened a folder, all eyes on the files inside and not sparing a glance at Mal and Steve, "Well... Another-another dimension."
"What do you mean?" Mal tilted her head.
"No name outside of Mal, no knowledge of the Avengers besides the two you're talking to now, and no familial relation to anyone other than your mother...who is a well-known Disney villain at that." The woman flipped the folder shut and shot an almost motherly smile towards Mal, "I'm almost tempted to write you off as delusional."
"Believe me, I wish I was lying," Mal chuckled lightly before coughing. "My name is Mal, and I'm the daughter of Maleficent, and I'll tell you everything you need to know so you know I'm telling the truth."
"That's fine with us, as long as every word you give us isn't a lie."
"Nat..." Steve shot a gentle look of criticism towards "Nat", "Go easy on Mal. She's clearly disoriented from being underwater for so long."
"Wait, underwater? When was I underwater?"
"Cap here found you on a beach in Lagos, accompanied by a purple aura," Nat gestured to "Cap" sitting in a chair near Mal's bedside, "which stands to reason that not only that you prevented yourself from drowning into a watery grave, but you also have superhuman abilities. I take it you can turn into a dragon?"
"How did you know?"
"Wild guess," Nat shrugged, "If Maleficent can turn into a dragon in the movie, her daughter would've inherited the same aptness. Otherwise, the gene skipped a generation."
"Hold up," Mal raised a finger up in confusion, "My mom has a movie based on her?"
"Two movies, actually. One is the classic villain archetype, the other is the closest thing to a hero."
"My mom? A hero?"
"Yeah, it's a long story, about 100 minutes to be exact." Nat stood up, "We'll watch it when you get better."
"Assuming I do get better," Mal attempted a mild joke, which successfully earned the amusement of both Steve and Natasha.
"All joking aside, we do need to set up an interrogation for you when you do," The latter pulled out a tablet and began typing, presumably acquiring her facial features and measurements, "If you really are the daughter of Maleficent, you need to be put in check. You don't mind, right?"
"Not at all," Mal gave out a thumbs up, her mind saying otherwise.
"We'll run a diagnostic in two hours and decide if you're better. Until then..." Steve stood up and exited the room, Natasha following him soon after. "Get some rest, okay, Mal?"
As she watched the both of them leave, Mal leaned back in her bed and her mind trailed back to figuring exactly where she was. For all she know, she was being held in a place called the New Avengers Facility, an area located in an entirely different dimension from hers.
Another Earth...? Did this mean there are other universes out there? How will I ever get back to mine? Would I ever want to go back to mine?
. . .
Whoa, easy there, Mal. You're overthinking the situation here. Don't get too accustomed to a place you are a foreigner to. Even so, taking into consideration what happened in both Auradon and the Isle...would either of them take me back?
"Umm... Lord Hades?"
The Lord of the Underworld himself stirred from his semi-nap, groaning in disappointment. He had expected his daughter dearest to pay him a visit...not these poor unfortunate excuses of henchmen. He had expected his daughter dearest to be the one to wake him from his slumber...not these poor unfortunate excuses of henchmen. He had expected his daughter dearest to do some good in her life and not follow in her parents' footsteps...not these poor unfortunate excuses of henchmen.
Hades slowly lifted his black shades and faced his sidekick imps.
"Pain, Panic. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He droned in a sarcastic tone.
The both of them exchanged nervous glances before the stout imp replied.
"Boss... It's about your daughter."
Dread, sadness, and anger began washing over Hades, who slowly stood up and walked towards his now frightened cronies.
"What about my daughter...?"