Diaval and the Bois: But nobody will come for me.
"But nobody will come for me," Diaval points out. "I'm in a different world. And even if I wasn't..." Guilt twists in his gut. She'll think he abandoned her, just one more person to stab her in the back (he thinks of himself as a person as often as a bird now, and it scares him more than he can say). "I left them. So really, I should be the one to-"
"No." Nick crosses his arms. "Look, they wouldn't have even gotten the staff if it wasn't for me. I'll do it."
"No way." Mac cuts in. "You have a wife and kids to think about. I'll do it. Just make sure you get everyone clear."
Will shakes his head. "Your team needs you. My team has Magnus and Kate; they'll be fine."
Neal's been slowly edging toward the doorway as they've been talking, and Diaval's just about to call him on it when Nick reaches out, catching Neal's arm.
"Don't even think about it," Nick snaps.
"Why?" Neal rolls his eyes. "Look, you're all good guys. I'm a thief. This is really easy math. Just-"
The rest of his words are lost to the sound of shattering glass from somewhere in the facility, followed by-
"Are those... Wings?" Mac asks slowly, and Diaval would reply, but his mouth is frozen open in disbelief. She came for him, after everything?
Lights flicker on and off, and sounds echo through the hallways-shouting, fighting, and something that sounds unsettlingly like growling-but he focuses only on the steady flap of wings growing closer, and the racing in his heart.
She bursts through the door without hesitation, hair falling loosely by her shoulders, fire in her eyes. She looks stunning in her rage, and he can only stare.
Her gaze falls first on Nick. "Where is Diaval?" She asks flatly, and he should probably be bothered by the way she doesn't even acknowledge the others, but-but-
In unison, the others point to him, more than a few managing weak smirks. She turns to face him, looking him over with a sharp eye.
"Just at the moment, I can't remember, Mistress." He doesn't mean to say it, but it's absolutely true, and he relishes in the way it softens her expression just slightly.
"Maleficent," she reminds him, voice gentler now. "You don't belong to me anymore."
"Well, that's just not true. I'll always belong to you; we both know it." How he desperately hopes that she knows it. Regardless, he'll never again give her reason to doubt his loyalty, his dedication to her.
"Hm." She tilts her head to the side. "I have no need of a servant anymore." But it doesn't sound like a dismissal; more like a test. That's fine; he's good at those.
Then she's in his space, face a breath away from his, lips curling into a smile. "Just you," she says simply, and for several heartbeats, he cannot think of a single thing to do or say. (Not only is she not angry with him, she-she-) Then, just when she starts to draw back, the first traces of hesitation in her eyes, he comes to life, closing the gap between them.
The kiss is brief, but sure enough to make his head spin, and when she pulls away, he very nearly pulls her back.
Distantly he's aware of the chuckling, the good-natured teasing from the other guys, but he ignores them. It's only when unpleasantly familiar footsteps enter the room that he looks away from Her. A few of the captors have doubled back, and they're approaching the men, hesitating only slightly at the sight of the winged stranger.
"I'm getting you out of here," she murmurs, and he swallows, before shaking his head.
"No, Mist-Maleficent." Gentle, but firm enough to give her pause. He continues, "They're my friends. We can't just leave them here."
For a heartbeat, the look in her eyes tells him that she could, in fact, leave them here-easily-and she's considering it. Then she exhales, nodding once. "Very well. Close your eyes."
She says it so evenly that he almost doesn't catch the words, but when he does, he hurries to comply.
Even with his eyes closed, he's aware of the flash of light filling the room. The captors cry out, and Diaval grins. Really, it's what they get for turning him into a mealy worm.
