Mal lasts all of about another day before she admits to Ben that she's been using magic to handle all her duties as 'Lady of the Court'. She takes her scooter and drives right back to the Isle of the Lost, leaving only a note for someone, likely Evie, to find.
For the entire journey her mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of her failures, in more ways than one. Yes, she couldn't handle Auradon's expectations for their king's girlfriend and that's what finally pushed her to go back but...
She also can't get Hayden's words, delivered with the sharpest and most dangerous tone she thinks she's ever heard from him, out of her head.
Then why do I seem to be the only one trying to bring down that barrier? Why am I the only one trying to help everyone left on the Isle?
Mal parks her scooter, hiding it the best she can, and can't help but think he's right. All of them- Jay, Carlos, Evie, and especially herself- got caught up in their new lives. A life she's apparently not even meant for, as she found out.
A lock of her blonde hair falls in front of her eyes and Mal knows exactly what her first stop has to be. She makes her way carefully through the rundown streets of the Isle, avoiding the residents as best she can as she imagines they're probably not very happy with her, and starts to notice the changes.
Rather than her own spray-painted tags of her mother's silhouette, she's seeing a lot of teal conch shells. It's Uma's symbol, she knows. Along with the shells she sees bright red hooks- three guesses who that belongs to- and even a few of the bronze bull's head Gil wears around his neck.
These things aren't what surprises her. While she's never given it much thought (and doesn't that just drive the whole forgetting-where-you-came-from thing home) she would have expected Uma to move into her territory.
The surprise comes from the number of familiar skull-and-roses she sees painted in black. Hayden hasn't been to the Isle since they all left in that limo ride what seems like a lifetime ago.
Why would his symbol be tagged on what seems like nearly every building and structure?
Mal shakes her head as she finally comes to Lady Tremaine's Curl Up and Dye, dismissing it as Harry claiming territory for his not-boyfriend while he's not here to do it himself.
She pushes aside the paint splattered plastic tarps that act as a door and looks around at the different dyes and paints all around the room. It's so different from anything in Auradon. Movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention and she can't help but smile at the rather colorful little redhead sweeping up the shop, dancing as she goes.
"Mal!" Dizzy gasps when she looks up and sees her. "Is Evie back too?" she asks eagerly.
"As if," Mal says flatly, trying to ignore the way Dizzy's face falls. "I, um, I forgot that you guys don't open until midnight. The place looks great," she adds.
Dizzy's smile returns at the compliment, clearly proud of her work.
"So, what's your deal?" she continues, slowly walking around the salon. "Your grandmother give you any customers yet?"
"Ah, just a witch or two," Dizzy dismisses. "Mostly it's just a lot of scrubbing and scouring and sweeping, lots and lots of sweeping."
"Sounds like the old Cinderella treatment, huh?"
"Yeah," Dizzy huffs. "She's gone from wicked stepmother to wicked grandmother."
"That's not really much of a switch," Mal remarks with a smirk. "Hey, Dizzy," she says, finally getting to her reason for visiting, "you used to do Evie, right?"
Dizzy locks her fingers together with a bright smile. "Yeah. I thought of the little braids," she says proudly. "I've also done Hayden's a few times," she adds.
Mal's eyebrows shoot up at that. "Really?" she asks. Dizzy does hair, yeah, but she specializes in dyes. The only color she's ever seen in Hayden's hair is hellfire blue. Literally.
"Just the occasional trim, really," she explains with a shrug. "It's always fun, though. Have you seen those curls?"
"Huh. Well, do you have any ideas for me?"
Dizzy's whole demeanor immediately changes as she starts to circle Mal, eyeing her hair. "Hm. The washed-out blonde with purple tips?" she sneers as she lifts the ends of her hair. "The best of no worlds. You can't see where your face ends and your hair begins!"
Mal can't help but laugh a little at the girl's tone as she maneuvers her into a rusted salon chair.
"What is this?" she demands as she looks at her nails. "Bored-to-death-pink? Hmm." She stops and gives her a questioning look. "How far can I go?"
"The works," Mal tells her. "I mean, whatever makes me feel like me but, you know, way worse."
"Yay!" Dizzy cheers as she hurries over to her counter and grabs an almost worryingly large pair of scissors.
In what seems like almost no time at all, Mal's looking into a cracked mirror to see her wavy blonde hair replaced with pin-straight purple and a set of bangs.
"There I am," she grins, eyeing her fresh black manicure.
"Voila!" Dizzy chirps proudly.
"Voila," Mal repeats, honestly impressed. She pulls a few bills out of her pocket and holds them out.
"For me?" Dizzy asks, visibly shocked.
"Yeah. You earned it."
The redhead giggles and starts to skip over to the ancient cash register. She stops just in front of the car hood she uses as a front counter when a familiar pirate steps through the tarps.
"Ferk it over, yeh runt," Harry drawls, hand held out. Dizzy reluctantly places the bills in his palm, and he taps his ever-present hook on the hood. "An' the res' of it."
Mal watches as Dizzy does just that, opening the cash register and handing him the few coins within it.
"Mm-hm," Harry hums. "Thank yeh," he says sarcastically as he turns to leave.
"Still running errands for Uma?" Mal speaks up. Harry freezes as he hears her voice. "Or do you actually get to keep what you steal?"
Harry turns slowly on his heels, long red jacket flaring around his legs, and she can't help but notice that he seems to be swaying even more than usual which means he either just got off a ship or he's been drinking.
Or, of course, a combination of the two.
"Well, well, well," Harry drawls. "Wha' a nice surprise," he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Hi, Harry," Mal greets. The pirate prowls closer, still swaying slightly, and she quickly gets her answer on why. She can smell the rum on him as soon as he gets within about a six-foot radius.
"An' jus' wha' are yeh doin' back on the Isle? Yer no' welcome here," he tells her.
"Yet here I am," she says, keeping a wary eye on his right hand when it seems to twitch a little too close to his sword.
Harry hesitates for a second. "Alone?" he asks. He says it casually, like it doesn't really matter, but she can see the way his kohl-lined eyes rove over the shop, obviously looking for signs of one person in particular.
"Just me," she confirms. His blue eyes darken with disappointment before he covers it up with a crooked smirk.
"Jus' wai' until Uma hears yer back," he tells her. "She's never gonna give yeh back yer territ'ry."
"Oh, well, that's okay," Mal says slowly. "I will be taking it back."
Harry leans a little closer and holds up his hook, sharpened to as fine a point as always. "I could hurt yeh," he says quietly, a threat as much as a promise.
"Not without Uma's permission I bet." Mal forces herself not to take a step back as his whole face twists into something darker, lips pulling back to show teeth in a way that brings to mind a three-headed dog she's never even seen.
"After wha' yeh've done? Wha' yer doin'?" he snarls. "Oh, lass, I don' need permission from bu' one man to hurt yeh fer tha'."
He starts to slowly walk backwards toward the salon's entrance. "Lucky fer yeh," he continues, "he's no' here to gran' it."
He turns on his heels and swiftly pushes through the tarps. Mal lets out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding as he leaves.
"What was that about?" she asks Dizzy, figuring she might have more of an idea of what's been happening on the Isle.
Dizzy twists her fingers nervously. "Harry... he's been a little worse than usual lately," she says.
"How long is lately?"
"About six months," Dizzy says quietly with a pointed look.
Mal sucks in a sharp breath as the meaning behind Harry's parting words fully sinks in. After all, besides occasionally his father or Uma, there's only one person Harry Hook listens to. Add to that the talk about what she'd done, what she was doing...
She can almost hear the echo in her head again.
Then why do I seem to be the only one trying to bring down that barrier? Why am I the only one trying to help everyone left on the Isle?