#self-insert fanfic

Anatomy. That was what the assignment was for.

No, anatomy was due in two days. It was the physiology report you had to complete.

No, you turned that in already. It was the respiratory lab write-up that was due.

No, actually, you did that already too. It was the ethics debate.

Or was it the legal analysis? Clinical recap? Vocab refresh?

It was the cardiology worksheet! That’s what the heart on your planner meant.

You flipped through your folder but found no worksheet. Frowning, you went to your class’ online portal. Again, no worksheet. Not even a link to an online assignment or a place to turn anything in.

You were starting to wonder if there was anything due that night.

You pushed your laptop away gently and let your head fall dramatically to the table. A small groan at the impact matched the heavy thud.

Your eyes were so tired. Your head was hurting. Your hands were cramping. You had notebooks, highlighters, colored pens, and index cards strewn around you. Even as you laid on the table, you could see some of them overlapping each other on the floor.

‘quad muscles (hint: 4)’

‘glenohumeral joint’

‘# of metatarsals per foot’

‘bones of the head (NOT the face)’

You whined to yourself as you kicked them away. Those were the easy ones, anyways.

The knock on your apartment door did nothing to get you up. You simply closed your eyes. 

“Y/N?” His voice was muffled on the other side. “C’mon, I know you’re here.”

You sighed slightly and lifted your head. You adjusted your laptop back into place and woke the device back up. Even if there was nothing that night, you had other deadlines right on your tail so you got right back to work.

Staring back at you was a hypothetical for a pre-teen boy coming to you with almost complete arm pain. He was a young dual athlete, a baseball pitcher and a basketball player. You needed to come up with a plan to discuss at your internship in the morning.

You vaguely heard the click of your front door as your eyes scanned the scenario over and over again.

“A lot of overhead movement.” You muttered, typing your thoughts in a separate window to organize later. “Shoulder impingement, maybe. But there’s still the forearm tightness.” You chewed mindlessly on the butt end of a pen.

“Hello to you, too.” He said in offense.

“Hey.” You nodded, not looking away. “I wonder if part of it is his epicondyle.”

You sat a little straighter as you switched to a new tab to find a study to back your idea.

“I brought dinner, because I assume you haven’t eaten all day. But since you didn’t answer my texts, you didn’t get a say in what it is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You know we had plans tonight, right?”

“What?” You looked over the top of your laptop to find him.

There was Billy, his usual suit jacket was discarded on your couch already, tossed over your pile of textbooks on the corner seat. He had pulled his tie loose and had his sleeves halfway up his arms. In his hands were two takeout containers of pasta dishes. He raised his brows in expectation.

“So that’s what that meant…” You whispered in realization. “I’m sorry, Bill. My phone is over there.” You gestured across the room, where you had purposefully shoved it under the textbooks to keep you from wasting time on it. “Rain check?”

“You’ve got a lot of I.O.U.s I can cash in. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off. “As long as you don’t try to cash ‘em all in at once, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m hurt, babe.” He said dramatically.

“Oh, you’ll live.” You rolled your eyes. “You can stay but you’ve gotta let me focus.”

“What?” He chuckled. “You’re gonna stick me in front of the TV with a meal like a toddler?”

“If that’s what it takes for me to finish this. You good with that?”

“Hey, as long as I get your attention before the night ends.” He nodded. “What are you working on tonight?”

“I’ve got this thing for my internship tomorrow. Oh, and my anatomy assignment is coming up. Do you know how many nerves are in the human body?”

He clicked his tongue. “No.”

“Over 7 trillion. And do you know how many have actual names?”

“Not a chance.”

“43 named pairs. I have to know what those are and where they are. And then, back to this.” You spun your computer. “There’s so much info I don’t have. I mean, sure, he pitches and his arm hurts-“ You spun your computer back. “But is it UCL related? Is it bone related? Is there varus instability? Honestly, this should be for the Sport Injury class next semester.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of your head, an arm coming around your shoulders. You leaned slightly into the embrace while your fingers kept typing and scrolling.

You spent a quiet couple of hours making notes and searching for studies. There were a handful that supported how pitching mechanics can impact overall arm injuries but there wasn’t many for your hypothetical’s age group.

Billy talked off and on. You didn’t look up from your screen. You could feel that your sporadic thoughts and notes were leading you to something. You just needed the right study.

“Y/N…” Billy said. He sounded tired. It might have been the fourth time he tried to get your attention.

You said nothing as he came to the table. You heard the shuffle of papers and you held out a hand to take them. After the notebook was in your hand, you simply dropped it to the floor beside you.

“This kid needs a lot of imaging and tests. The instability test for the elbow is easy enough but for his shoulder…” You spoke to yourself.

“You remember Dinah?” Billy said suddenly.

“He’s a pre-teen but have his growth plates closed already? How old does that happen again?”

You reached across Billy for a notebook. Unexpectedly, he handed you the exact one.

You flashed a quick smile before you began flipping through pages.

“Turns out she’s pregnant.” Billy continued.

“Who is?” You asked mindlessly. You were more focused on scanning your colored headings.

“Dinah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and I guess it’s mine.”

“Really?”

How could you politely tell Billy to shut the hell up?

“Mhmm. She’s gonna keep it so I guess you’ll be a step-mom.”

“That’s fine.” You shook your head. You did not care. “Am I supposed to ask for the imaging? Is that… Jeez, does that count against ethics or anything? Wait, no, that has nothing to do with ethics. Oh my god.” You pushed your hands through your hair. “Can I just get hit by a car?”

“Jesus.” He sighed loudly.

“Can you just-“ You snapped. “I’m really busy, Billy. I’m sorry but can you please just…”

“Just what?” He shrugged. “Cause all I want, Y/N, is for you to spend five goddamned minutes out of your books and your studying. I just want five minutes with my girlfriend. I made up a story of getting another woman pregnant and you don’t care.”

“You did what?”

“Exactly!” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Exactly.”

“Can you not do this right now? I have literally a million things to do.”

“No, I need your attention for two minutes, Y/N/N.”

“I told you I was going to busy. You didn’t have to stay.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy cause I want to spend time with you?”

“No but you know what this means to me and you want me to just push it aside for you! That’s not this works! Whether you care about what I’m doing or not, I need to focus.” You knocked a light fist against the table to punctuate your last few words.

 “I am proud of you. You know that I am. Everything you’re working so hard towards, it’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “In the nicest way possible, Billy, just shut the hell up. Please. I love you but can you just not tonight?”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You weren’t upset or anything over the situation. Billy had a fair response. He had planned a date night for you two, probably weeks ago, and you were fighting for your life in front of your computer screen. You could feel the burn of your sinuses from the stress tears.

“When I said I wanted to finish this degree, you promised to support me.” Your voice was more level than you expected given your elevated state of mind.

And that wasn’t to say Billy hadn’t been supportive. When your financial aid hadn’t cleared yet and you owed a portion of your tuition, Billy paid the amount without hesitation. When the $1100 was reimbursed in your aid, he refused to take it. ‘Buy yourself something nice with it’ he had told you. You used it for a new laptop and some textbooks. He often bought dinner or came over to cook when you were busy studying. He helped you with test prep.

“No matter what, you said you’d help however you could.” You continued.

“I have.”

“I know. I’m not saying you haven’t… I’m just-” You sat back and gestured vaguely to the study materials around you. “This is important to me, Bill. I want this so bad.”

“I know.” He nodded, reaching over to take your hand in his. He gave a soft squeeze. “And you’ll have it, Y/N/N. You’ll have anything you want.”

“I don’t want it to be a handout.” You sniffled as the tears streaked your cheek slowly.

“What makes you think that’s what this is?” He chuckled.

You raised a brow. “Cause you like to give me things.” You laughed in return.

“I do.” He grinned. “And I wanna do it right now.”

“If you try to give me a gift right now, I will punch you in the throat.” You threatened with a straight face.

“It’s not a gift.” He shook his head.

“Alright.” You caved. You pulled your hand free and wiped your face with the inside of your shirt. When you looked back at Billy, you saw he was standing and pulling his tie off.

“Billy Russo, if you’re trying to get me in bed right now, I will-” You tried, standing to jab a finger to his chest.

Billy just laughed.

“Anatomy review, genius.” He rolled his eyes with a small smile. He took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. “What muscles?”

“I don’t know. They’re not that defined.” You teased.

“Oh really?” Billy laughed again. “That’s how you wanna do this?”

You grinned innocently. “Delts.”

“And here?” He slid your hands down to his sides.

“Obliques.”

“Here?” Up to his arms.

“Biceps… Smaller than you’d think.”

“You think you’re funny?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I do, actually, yes.” You answered. “Are you done?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. He laid your hands over his shoulders and your fingers danced along his back. “You feel better?”

You glanced over at your laptop. Billy noticed and dramatized a sigh. He reached over and closed the computer before focusing on you again.

“Well, that was rude.” You frowned.

“You pay more attention to that thing than you do me.” He tilted his head. “How’s that fair?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I work for that. I have to pay attention to it.”

“Oh?”

You practically saw the lightbulb in his head click on.

“Wait.” You tried when you realized what you said. You tried to step back, push him back by his chest, but his grip on your hips kept you in place. “Let me explain.”

“Too late.”

“It is not! Give me a second to explain. I meant that-”

“No.” He shook his head. “I think it’s only fair that it’s my turn for your attention. I’ve worked for it, right? I deserve that, don’t I?” He began walking backwards, gently pulling you with him until he was able to spin you so your back hit the wall.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“For now, I’m asking.”

“Oh, for now.” You nodded. “You’re right, by the way. I can admit that I should give you a little more attention.”

“Aw.” He feigned a frown. “All I get is a little?”

“You aren’t a Master’s Degree that I can frame and put on my wall. You aren’t going to add a neat little ‘M.S.’ to the end of my name. You aren’t going to make my application competitive in  the medical field.” You explained. “I do love you, but you’re not changing my career, my love.”

“One, I’ll give you that. Two, I’ll give you an ‘Mrs.’ for the front of your name. I’ll give you my last name too, if you want it. Three, I can get you whatever job you want. You know that.”

“I’d like to know I earned what I get, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ve got something else you can earn then in the meantime.” He winked.

You had to laugh at that. You gently took hold of his shirtfront and pulled him a step closer.

“Lemme take care of you, hmm? You need a break.” He said gently. “Ain’t that what I’m here for?”

“Usually it’s cause you’re nice to look at.” You teased.

“Ooh.” He feigned offense. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“I love you.” You smiled innocently. “And I’m not changing my name, by the way.”

“We can talk about it later. Besides, I like the way Mrs. Y/N Russo sounds.”

You feigned a gag. “Y/N Y/L/N, M.S. sounds better.”

“Y/N Y/L/N-Russo, M.S.?”

“Why are we negotiating my name?” You laughed. “We’re not getting married anytime soon.”

He lazily shrugged. “We could go to City Hall in the morning. I can get Frankie as a witness and have us on our honeymoon by lunch.”

“Internship.” You shook your head. “Can’t skip it.”

“You could.”

Gus sits at his desk and watches her until Shawn comes back. She just sits there, answering the phone and writing things down and working on some kind of visual projects- is Shawn ordering merchandise? - and not-so-subtly sneaking glances at her cellphone every once and a while. When Shawn walks in she greets him with that endless professional-yet-childlike cheeriness, and he greets her back with a grin and a pineapple smoothie.

He plops down on the armchair by the window. "Well, Gus? What do you think?"

"I think you went and hired a receptionist without talking to me about it." Gus snatches his smoothie away with a 'tsk'. "What're you doing, Shawn? We can't afford to pay someone a salary on just one case a week!"

"We aren't! You told me to start taking more private cases, remember?! Even the lame ones." Shawn gestures towards Sid. "I got tired of doing all the other stuff myself, so I put out an ad while you were busy with the pharmaceuticals convention all week. Dude, check out her resume."

Shawn hands over the papers, and Gus takes them with a huff. His frustration smooths out into impress as he reads it. "Wow. Experience in retail, service booking, customer service, office management, and marketing? How old is she?"

"Nineteen, Gus! And look, she had references and everything! Check out that article she wrote for her last job."

Gus skims it. It's a clear marketing ploy article, but it's well-written and comprehensive. The tone is conversational without being casual, and clear without being pushy. It reads like something the actual trained marketing department at Central Coast would come up with, not some kid with a hobby and a couple years of on-the-job experience. "No way a nineteen year old wrote this."

"Dude, she's a writing expert. Check this out, SID!"

She perks up, getting out of her chair and walking over to them with her hands clasped in front of her. "Yes?"

"Gus here, doubts your writing proficiency."

"I didn't-"

"YES, you did. So, how about showing off for him a little? It's fun, trust me, he's great to show off too."

"Oh, um, did you have anything specific in mind?"

"Yes, actually, if you could write up a little ad for the paper that could convince non-believers to give us a try." Shawn smiles at her all lopsided and false sweetness, eyeing Gus smugly. "And uh, if you could sit right here so Gus can see your screen and know you aren't cheating."

"Okay, I guess." Sid grabs the laptop and sits where they can both see her screen. She opens up a document, and her fingers go flying across the keyboard.

Psychics may not be everyone's cup of tea when it comes to personal beliefs, but here at Psych, the Private Detective Agency, our track record speaks for itself. With dozens of cases under our belts, including such high-profile solves as The Shabby Murder and The Jackson Hale Murder Trial, there's no doubt that Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster get results. Whether it's through true psychic ability to commune with a world beyond our own, or just by some great luck and intuition, we get things done. Just ask our 100% solving rate.

"What?" Gus reads it over again. "How'd you write that in less than five minutes?!"

Sid shrugs, grinning pridefully and bashfully at the same time somehow. "I've been writing my whole life. I analyze everything I read. Plus, marketing fascinates me, even if I don't always agree with the ethics used by some."

Shawn smirks at Gus. "Now do you see why I hired her? Plus, she's ordering us awesome t-shirts to sell to people!"

"Alright." Gus nods. "But why's a nineteen year old wanting to work for us anyway? Shouldn't you be out, you know, partying and stuff?"

"Ah." Sid waves he idea away, or maybe swats it away. "I don't do that kind of thing. Even if I did, I'm allergic to alcohol, so it'd be pretty stressful."

"See? She's perfect."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you for calling Psych, the private psychic detective agency! How may we help you today, tomorrow, or last week? ... Ah, I see. So you're concerned your partner is cheating... may I ask what leads you to believe that, if it's not too personal? ... Mm-hmm, I see. Well, just a moment, I need to confer with the spirits about- no, no I'm not psychic myself, but I've been given some tools to make contact."

Shawn gives Sid a thumbs up as she pretends to consult a Ouija board.

"I'm so sorry, the spirits are saying they can't help you with this one. No, no your partner's energy is blocking them from viewing his activities. If you'd like we can try again..."

"Two weeks," Shawn mouths.

"Two weeks from now, they're saying. Well, that's when they think there might be an energetic shift to allow them to observe him. I'm sorry, I don't understand the spirits process, I just relay their messages. If you have anything unrelated to your partner that you'd like us to look into- oh, you have a missing package?"

She glances at Shawn again. He shakes his head. "Never packages," he mouths.

"I'm sorry, the spirits don't deal with packages and parcel shipping. They don't like cardboard boxes. You know how cats can see ghosts? And how they love cardboard boxes? Those facts are more entwined than you may think. Alright, thank you for calling. I hope things work out for you! Have a wonderful rest of your day!"

Sid hangs up, and Shawn gives one single grand clap. "Perfect. I couldn't have done it better myself."

"Uh, Shawn?" Gus waves his friend over as Sid beams and does a little happy wiggle in her chair. Gus eyes her warily. "Doesn't that kind of give away to her that you're, you know? Fake?"

"Not at all." Shawn slaps Gus on the back. "Look, buddy, I told her the truth about it, sort of. There's some cases I just don't want to spend my valuable time and energy on, and people tend to be more accepting of that when they think it's on the spirits end instead of mine. None of that says I don't actually communicate with spirits."

"And what about when we bring evidence back? Make your boards? Talk about cases in a way that makes it obvious how we actually solve things?"

"Gus, she's only on the clock until we need her to be! She knows it's part time, she liked it that way! Her employment contract only promises a minimum of four hours a day that she works, and more than that we just pay five bucks extra."

"We what?! Shawn, show me that employment contract right now!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello, welcome to Psych, the private psychic detective agency! Do you have an appointment with us today?"

Gus looks up from his research and sees two familiar figures standing at the entrance in shock. He tosses a ball of paper at Shawn and nods at the door so Shawn can watch too.

Lassiter flounders for a second under the onslaught of pitched-up cheerfulness as Jules quickly recovers from the shock of an actually professional greeting.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Jules says, almost matching the near inhuman tone Sid has. Gus keeps hearing Sid clarify to callers that she is not, in fact, an answering machine or robot, and he can't blame them for the confusion. Jules nudges Lassiter. "I'm Detective O'Hara, this is Head Detective Lassiter. We're here to see Shawn about a case."

"Oh, yes, the detectives! Shawn told me to expect you sometime today, would you like any coffee while you meet with him? He wrote your preferences down on the wall."

"We'd love some." Jules nudges Lassiter again, keeping her smile plastered on, and Lassiter finally seems to recover.

"You work here? Willingly?" he comes out with.

"And happily," Sid says with a tilt of her head and a giggle. "Right this way, and I'll grab that coffee for you both."

As she passes by Shawn and Gus's desks, Gus sees her smile fall right off into a near scowl as soon as her back is to the detectives. But a minute later when she's returning with the coffee, it's back.

"-a little swamped in lame cases right now, so please tell me you have something good for us," Shawn says as Sid silently sets down the mugs and then heads back to her desk. Gus eyes her warily, looking for another drop in the facade. None occur.

"We do, actually, and we tried calling but-"

"Ah! I turn off my phone now when I'm in the office." Shawn kicks his feet up onto his desk and smirks a little. "Really helps clear my sense to have someone else handling my worldly heedings, when I need to be handling my otherworldly heedings."

Gus hears Sid stifle a snort of laughter behind him.

"Yeah, well, the only thing you're heeding now is the Chief's request." Lassiter tosses down a case file with a bitter expression. "I can't believe we have to visit you jackasses in this slobhole now just to give you a case."

"Now now Lassie." Shawn begins flipping through the file. "You can just call Sid and I promise, we'll hop right into the Blueberry. Does the Chief actually need our help on this one? Seems a little obvious."

"We thought so too, until we got a confession note signed with only a last name, and it's completely unconnected to the case. We have no leads on who it came from." Jules glances at the desk as the phone rings and Sid launches into her greeting. "How old is that girl, by the way?"

"I'm nineteen," Sid says, covering the phone mic, half-turning in her seat and smiling again.

"Oh." Jules takes in Sid's outfit, which today is a paisley-patterned button-up shirt, completely boxy and unflattering in cut, paired with plain black jeans and a thick gray cardigan Gus has seen almost every day since her first shift. When she doesn't have that cardigan she has long-sleeves and/or sweater vests to go with them. He should really suggest some medications for better blood circulation to the poor girl.

"You dress like an old lady," Lassiter so eloquently voices. Gus thinks about the affinity for cardigans and sweaters and finds himself nodding in agreement.

"Thank you." Sid seems to genuinely take it as a compliment.

Lassiter doesn't seem to know how to respond to that, so he turns back to Shawn and scowls at him. "Are you taking the case or not?"

"Oh, I definitely am. Sid, block off my schedule for the next... two days? Two days, Gus? Yeah, two days."

"Am I to call the clients with appointments and tell them to reschedule?"

"Am I to call?" Jules mouths, looking at Gus with her nose wrinkled in confusion.

"She just talks like that," Gus whispers. "We didn't ask her to."

"Depends," Shawn says over Gus and Jules's little conversation. "What've we got coming up?"

"Well, later today you have a meeting with the CEO of a small startup company, he wants to know if he should sell the business to an offer he got or if he should stick with it. Tomorrow you have two appointments in the late morning regarding stolen garden items, they're neighbors though so I bet it's each other or someone living next to both of them, so it shouldn't take too long... and then the last day is actually clear right now."

"We can keep those," Shawn says, handing the case file back over to Lassiter. "Good catch with the neighbors, that'll really help the psychic juices get flowing on that one."

"I also have their addresses here if you need to do a house call in this case."

"Perfect. Jules, Lassie, we'll see you at the station tomorrow at noon-ish sharp."

"You can't just-"

"Done with that coffee?" Sid asks, walking over and reaching for he mugs. "Yeah? Great, I'll just clear these away..."

Gus watches the subtle dismissal set in as Lassiter and Jules both pause, and then get up, and head out.

"Thank you for coming in!" Sid exclaims as they leave. "I hope you both have a wonderful rest of your day!"

"Are we sure she's not actually a robot?" Gus whispers to Shawn once the door shuts.

The smog was lifting incrementally when Rose arrived at the school. No one except some of the cleaning staff and Yen Sid showed up this early, so she had a set of keys to let herself in. Rose was surprised when they’d tossed the key ring at her, wondering why such an untrusting lot would allow her any sort of power. After a few months, she understood; no villain or their kids cared very much for rigorous education so what was the harm?

“Just another 9 hours, then back home,” She muttered to herself, stowing the keys back in her pocket as she let herself in. It was getting harder to pry herself out of bed every day and she found her work following her home more nights than not. 

Her office was stowed at the back of a dingy, disorganized maze of hallways in the administrative wing of the school. Most days, Rose considered it a miracle if she found it in less than 10 minutes. She knew there was no magic on the Isle, but surely these walls moved because there was no other explanation. Paperwork at Dragon Hall was messy and complicated and hardly ever dealt with so she’d stopped trying to fight to get the piles of it that littered her office. Her filing cabinets were organized by her own special system that nobody but herself could understand. 

The only thing she actively tried to care for were the multitude of plants she’d brought across the bridge with her. She didn’t have much of a green thumb before she came, but having some greenery around her kept her grounded on the tough days. So she made sure to water them each week and keep a rotating schedule of a few in the sun each day. At least she had a few windows all the way back here, even if the light was dingy and weak sometimes. 

Most of the day flew by, just another day of filling reports for nobody to read and seeing a student or two about their grades. Finally, her open office hour rolled around after lunch and she heard an exuberant knock at her door. 

“Come in!” A small warm smile crept across her face as she called out, already knowing who it was. 

The door burst inward, letting the group of mischievous teenagers spill into her tiny office. Mal and Star were at the front, arms linked as always. Evie breezed through after them, smiling fondly at her best friend and her not-so-secret crush. Bringing up the rear, Jay and Carlos were arguing good-naturedly. 

They threw down their book bags and took up any vacant seating Rose had around the room. Since Mal’s crew had started hanging around more often, Rose had traveled back to Auradon to bring a couch and some chairs for them. Some of her supervisors shook their head and thought it was a waste of money. 

Well, Rose thought, They don’t know the first thing about these kids. 

Like most days, they were packed into her office to escape the eyes of their keen-eyed teachers. Nobody expected them to be in a place like this, so it was perfect to hide away in. That and the fact that Rose didn’t try to police their words or behavior. It had taken a long time for them to trust her, but every minute was worth it when Rose saw the heavy weight in their eyes lift as they came through her door. 

“Carlos, how’s your latest invention coming along?” Rose asked and settled in to listen to the teen as he eagerly pulled a contraption out of his bag and began explaining its features to her. 

Over the course of the hour, she got around to speaking with each teen personally, making sure each one got to rant and let out any bottled feelings. She didn’t press and didn’t offer advice unless they asked her for help. Rose wanted them to just have a safe space to say what they wanted, even if she couldn’t fix much. If she could help even one of them, it made the past 2 years worth all the ridicule she’d gotten from her peers. 

Before the hour was over, she spoke with Star and her sister. They’d crashed on the couch, legs in each other’s laps. 

“-she just screams at us before giving us a chance to explain!” Star said, her mouth twisting into an uncomfortable frown. She wouldn’t admit it, but Rose could see the pain in her face. 

“Yeah, it’s like every week, she gets more and more disappointed with us,” Mal interjected. “But, what can we do? We’re stuck here too and there’s only so many evil tricks and plots we can come up with before it just gets boring.” 

Rose held her tongue. The nasty antics the Isle kids liked to pull weren’t good by any means, but Rose knew it wasn’t that simple. Pressure from their parents and their peers had created a self-sustaining hurricane of hurt and hostility. Star and Mal and their friends were victims of one horrible decision of a King who didn’t give a damn about them. So she never held the way they acted out against them. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes...” Mal sighed and looked away guiltily, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Sometimes, I wonder if it’s going to be like this forever and ever, and we’ll be stuck like this until-” 

She didn’t finish the sentence, but Rose and Star knew what she meant. No one wanted to say it, but until something changed, life on the Isle would be unbearable. They made happy moments between them, piecing together their own families and communities out of spite and hard-won loyalty. But there was only so much room on Isle; they couldn’t just run away if they had to. 

“Remember, Mal, that’s why I’m here,” Although she desperately wanted to, Rose didn’t lay a gentle hand on her student’s arm. She’d learned the rules a long time ago in this prison. “Yen-Sid and I are doing what we can, just be patient. This won’t be forever.”

Mal didn’t smile, but the haunted look in her eyes faded a bit as she nodded at the counselor. By then, the hour was up and the bell rang, spurring the kids into movement. Rose waved them out the door and turned back to her never-ending pile of paperwork. 

3 more hours, Rose thought with a sigh and got to work. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the requirements of the job was that Rose had to stay to make sure all the students had gone home for the day or were accounted for in their after-school clubs. Fortunately, Isle school days were already short to begin with, and even after being here with Yen-Sid for 2 years, the options for extra curricular activities were abysmal. Rose knew she shouldn’t be relieved to go home early when she’d fought so hard to be here in the first place. But, unlike most of the Isle residents, she was only human. 

So it was with a sigh of relief that Rose pushed her way out the office’s side door to go home. It had been a busier day than usual, so busy that she was bringing home a satchel stuffed full of paperwork. Even adults had to suffer the pains of homework sometimes. Rose gave a mirthless snort, wishing her teachers had imparted that little nugget of information to her when she was young. 

    She was still muttering to herself when a dark shadow flashed in the corner of her eye just as she passed an empty alley. Rose froze, her jovial mood evaporating instantly. Her skin prickled as she stared intently down the dark, narrow street, every nerve on alert. But after a moment of stillness, Rose shook her head.

    This is still the Isle, she told herself. Even if there’s nothing there, it’s best not to linger and become a target. 

    Rose turned on her heel, ready to get home before any trouble found her, and ran face-first into a wall of black leather and heat. 

    “What the fuck!” Rose yelled, backpedaling as fast as she could. 

The six and a half foot tall god, whose chest her nose had just become acquainted with, crossed his arms and raised an impressed eyebrow. “Didn’t expect an Auradon agent to have such a mouth. Aren’t you guys all sugar, spice, and everything nice?” Hades mocked.

“Aren’t you all rudeness and sarcasm and-” She shot back, the words flying out of her mouth before she could really think it through. She froze, unable to think of anything to finish with and Hades’ smug persona dropped for a second, genuine amusement taking over.

“No, go on. You find something that rhymes with sarcasm and makes sense, and I’ll stop acting like an asshole.” He gave an exaggerated gracious hand wave. Indignation and embarrassment flushed Rose’s cheeks. 

“What do you want?” She huffed, in no mood for games. It had been a long day, like always, and her bed was calling her name. 

They’d never met, but of course Rose knew Hades was bad news. The kids she helped on the Isle were innocent victims of the Auradon justice system; Hades was not. Coming face to face with one of the darkest villains banished here sent a thrill of adrenaline through her veins, but she forced any reaction other than utter disinterest down. Out here, he was just as powerless as she was. That was a hefty advantage. 

Hades smirked, undaunted by her defensive nature. “Heard that you’re one of the Auradon outcasts at Dragon Hall.”

It could have been a question, but he stated it like he already knew it was true, like he already knew everything about her. Nothing impressive there; Rose and Yen-Sid’s resettlement on the Isle had been a juicy piece of gossip when they first arrived. Still, Rose didn’t like the thought of being on a villain’s radar, especially Hades’. 

He advanced on her slowly, a grin as sharp and ruthless as a shark’s creeping across his face. Every step edged them further into the mouth of the alley. He didn’t get very far before Rose planted her feet. Like hell I’m going to let him cut off any chance of escape.

Hades paused, blinking in confusion when she let him come chest to chest with her. Wasn’t she going to even try to put some distance between them? He was the infamous Lord of the Underworld, she should have been cowering by now! Instead, she glared up at him, hands balled into fists on her hips. The sight was familiar; Maleficent had often given him the same reaction. 

But instead of a derisive sneer and a malicious response to whatever he’d been saying, the teacher only had a determined set to her mouth and a stern look in her green eyes. Hades felt his heart twist with a complicated tangle of regret and loathing, and forced himself to focus on why he was here. 

“Mal and Star seem to like you for some reason.” He continued. 

Rose’s eyes narrowed with no small amount of suspicion. “Why would you care about the daughters of Maleficent?” 

    Hades looked away from her briefly, hesitating long enough for Rose to put the pieces together. The girls never talked about their father, but that had never struck the guidance counselor as odd. Most of the kids she took care of came from single parent families.

    Rose couldn’t stop the incredulous laughter bursting out of her. “Really? You? And Maleficent?” 

At first, it made a sort of sense. Power and status were everything to the inmates of the Isle. Pairing up with someone on your level was obvious. But Rose tried to imagine that tiny, ridiculous, loud-mouthed dark faerie with this skulking, sleazy, grungy ex-god and found her imagination lacking. 

What must that relationship been like? She thought briefly before immediately rejecting the notion. Yikes. 

“Stay in your lane, little Miss Nosey!” Hades snapped, letting his intimidating frame tower over her. 

“I’m sorry, who cornered who in this alley?” Rose asked. “You’re kind of making it my business by stalking me!”

Hades scowled but couldn’t argue the point. “Look, forget that! I’m here to ask a... favor.” He spit the word out like it was a burning hot coal on his tongue. It wasn’t in his nature to ask for anything. When he was in charge of the Underworld, it was as simple as issuing a command, and Pain and Panic would scramble to follow it. But he had nothing on this woman from Auradon, so he was forced to beg, like a common mortal. 

“You. Need a favor. From me?” She repeated, disbelief coating every word. 

“Yes,” Hades hissed. “Ever since their mother and I- split, let’s say- it hasn’t been easy keeping an eye on them.” 

Rose crossed her arms, thoroughly fed up with this round-about way of talking he had. “You know using vague one-liners is not actual communication, right?” 

If they were in Auradon, Rose was sure she would see steam rolling off of his shoulders by now. Hades snarled, anger in his eyes. Mortals sassing him never went over well. For the mortal, at least. But there was nothing he could do about it as a prisoner on the Isle. 

“What is it with you mortals and the attitude?” He exclaimed, remembering a certain purple-eyed mortal he’d made the mistake of striking a deal with all those years ago. “Alright, look, I just want to know how they’re doing, what they’re like now that they’re grown up.”

“And you can’t just ask them yourself, because...?”

He scoffed, spreading his hands in exasperation. “Oh yeah, like their mother hasn’t filled their heads with a thousand little nasty rumors about me. They wouldn’t give me the time of day if I tried.”

“You don’t know that,” Rose said quietly, remembering her conversation with the girls just a few hours ago. “If you gave them a chance to-”

“A chance? What, a chance to throw me under a bus? Spit in my face and walk away?” Rose’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by the vulnerable look on Hades face. 

“They aren’t their mother and that’s a horrible thing to assume about them. Especially when, one) you don’t know them and, two) you’re asking me to spy on them for you.” She shook her head, regretting the words already. She tried not to respond so emotionally when someone needed her guidance; these were not her issues, they were Hades’. But she cared for Mal and Star and their friends, and she could never stand by when someone bad mouthed kids. 

“Listen, Hades,” Rose sighed. Maybe she should have been concerned by how far her guard had dropped so quickly around him, but she didn’t realize it. Something about this conversation was almost comfortable. She chalked it up to being in her element; someone was having trouble with a loved one and asking for her help. “I understand you’re... unsure about trying to reconnect with them, but this doesn’t seem like the healthiest way to do it.”

“Why are you making it such a big deal! Chaos, you Auradon saps and your morals!” Throwing up his hands in disgust, Hades paced away from her. “And another thing, I am not scared!”

Rose only raised a single skeptical eyebrow. 

“Shut up.”

“Fine! If you don’t want my help or my advice, I’m going home now.” She hoisted her heavy bag back up on her shoulder and moved to leave when Hades jumped into her path. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll admit I have some... doubts about succeeding by myself. Happy? Will you just do it?”

This was a bad idea, Rose told herself, an absolutely idiotic, ill-conceived, ridiculous idea. However, Rose wondered if she could really do this and maybe help this broken little family heal, just a bit. The soft, hidden romantic spot in her heart was weakening to the thought. 

“I will.” She said and couldn’t help smiling inwardly at the way Hades lit up with her answer. Before Hades could celebrate too much, she held up a finger. “But! You have to do something for me in return, especially since this is technically illegal and I could lose my job.”

“Hey, I know all about the give and take of a deal. What can the Lord of the Dead do for ya, sweetheart?” Hades smirked, seeming quite unbothered by her demand. He lost his grin, however, when she told him her conditions.

“You can be my bodyguard.” 

“Ex-cuse me?” Enjoying how shocked she’d made the oh-so-ferocious villain, Rose shrugged innocently. 

“If you want to know more about your daughters, it’s going to mean spending a substantial amount of my free time with you. None of the other villains will bother me anymore if they know I’m under your protection.”

“Do I look like a babysitter to you?” 

“No, you look like a racoon that just fell out of a dumpster.” She replied and smirked at his gobsmacked face. “That’s my only condition. Take it or leave it.” 

Hades stewed in his thoughts for a few seconds, huffing and grumbling to himself as he thought it over. But, finally he grudgingly held out a hand. “Alright, it’s a deal. Meet me at the entrance of my lair, same time tomorrow.”

Rose didn’t hesitate, shaking his hand firmly twice before adjusting her bag, “See you tomorrow, Hot Head!” She sauntered around him, out of the alley, feeling his eyes on her as she left him behind. 

Neither of them noticed a scrawny teen with certain white hair watching the entire exchange from a balcony nearby. Carlos was close enough to make out the identity of the two shadowy figures in the alley, but he couldn’t hear most of their conversation, the wind stealing away the majority of the words before they could reach him. Seeing the reclusive God of the Dead was enough to snag his attention no matter what. 

He liked the guidance counselor from the other side of the barrier, even if most of his classmates didn’t. They all thought she was trying to brainwash them and scorned anyone who went to see her. Carlos was already used to being the outcast of outcasts, so he didn’t mind it.