THIRD PERSON P.O.V!

Spade liked the Isle. Everyone else did not.

This was probably because Spade knew of the dark horrors of the isle. The dark horrors weren't in the isle itself, but rather in the people. Spade had an eye for evil, and did everything he could to avoid it at all costs. Well, except when it came to Harry Hook.

Oh the boy's deep blue eyes could keep Spade at ease for days. The boy was the romantic type, though he doubted Harry was. And while Spade would've longed to run his hands through Harry's dark, soft hair, he knew better than to make such actions as it would cause mayhem through all of the Isle.

Two boys together in such a way? It wasn't just unheard of. It was looked down on.

And so, all Spade Hearts could do was keep his thoughts in his head and keep his head hung low. The boy wasn't exactly opposed to that, though. It was easier to be unheard of. To be invisible.

---

"What are you looking at, Heart?"

Mal's voice snapped Spade out of his thoughts, and his nose out of the scrapped up book he was reading. The pages were slipping from the book, falling out in pieces. And as one dark, stained page fell from the book, Mal even dared to pick it up and blow her nose with it, before crumpling it up and tossing it away.

"I said: what are you looking at, Heart?!" Mal's voice grew louder, her green eyes pulsing an even more vibrant green as she looked down at the brunette boy. She even dared to grab him by his shirt and yank him up.

"Nothing! I swear! I was just reading!" Spade wasn't lying. He didn't dare look in Mal's direction, ever, due to the fact he'd probably get a real bad wedgie out of it. That, or get shoved in a locker and not be able to escape until one of the gargoyle janitors found him and begrudgingly released him.

"Really?" Mal smirked as she paused. "You know what we do to nerds around here?!"

Just as Spade was prepared to take a swing to the face, he was released from the tight grip that once had him on his toes. Sure, he was taller than Mal, but only by a short 5 inches. The girl was stronger, and could carry the 15 year old boy like she could carry a stone in her pocket. She could probably throw him like one too.

"Mal, what have I told you about picking on people your own size?" The Scottish accent was like music to Spade's ears. 

Harry, Harry Hook.

Wait, was Harry Hook actually saving him? No way.

Mal released Spade's grip, and all Spade could do was watch with weak knees as Mal and Harry glared at each other with a venom in their eyes that one could see in many others around the Isle. Everyone seemed to hate each other, unless they were useful to one another. Then, it was a temporary liking before it went back to the depths of hatred between the two parties.

Though, between Mal and Harry? One could say it was always a weird sexual tension. At least, that was what everyone else claimed around Dragon Hall.

"Hey! He's bigger than me! And so are you," Mal furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't see the problem. The squirt's reading--" the purple haired girl bent down, picking up the book Spade was reading, and had dropped, off the ground. "A love story?!"

Spade could feel the redness rise to his cheeks already. It was true, Spade had been reading The Fault In Our Stars. It had been good. Well, until Mal ruined it.

Harry looked over to Spade, giving him a look of mere disappointment. However, the look flashed away and he looked back to Mal. "So? Let him do what he wants. Not like it's any of your business anyhow."

Spade felt his heart warm at Harry's words. Despite the guy being a bit of a jerk, Spade knew Harry had good intentions. The guy wasn't all bad. He certainly wasn't being bad right then.

"Are you defending him, Hook? It's like you support this kind of behavior. Do you read love stories as well?" Mal smirked, clasping her hands together. She looked to Spade once more, "Hey, Sperm! I found you a book club member! Now you have a whole club of 2!"

"My name's not Sperm..." Spade furrowed his eyebrows. Mal had called him that since he was 10, when the kids all took health class together. It was one of the many reasons Spade hated his name oh so much.

The boy had many reasons to hate his name. One, it was his mother's least favorite card suit. The woman wanted a girl, so when she had a boy, she named him after his least favorite things: Spade and White. Yes, the boy's full name was Spade White Hearts, and he hated it.

"What did you just say?!" Mal snapped over to the boy. Spade tried his best not to cower a bit, but he couldn't help it. When the girl's eyes flashed bright green, it was a sign she was angry. While there was not magic on the isle, the girl was still able to express her emotions through the color of her eyes. Many people considered it proof that there was magic somewhere on the Isle.

"That's enough, Mal!" Harry snapped right back, moving to rest her hand on his shoulder. By the time Harry's hand reached Mal's shoulder, a loud whoosh sounded through the air. Mal had turned, and landed her fist right into Harry's left eye.

And just like that, Mother Gothel was heading towards the students. The woman taught Evilness 101, and while she wasn't the best teacher, she did have a no tolerance for violence policy. Mal bolted off while the woman chased her.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Spade asked Harry quickly.

"Kid, scram." Harry insisted, waving off Spade. He could already feel the swelling beginning in his eye, causing him to flinch slightly at the sound of his own voice.

Spade frowned when Harry called him a kid. Harry didn't call anyone that, so why Spade? "I'm only a year younger than you! I'm not a kid. Now let me help."

Without saying another word, Spade grabbed Harry's hand and yanked him off the school courtyard. The book that Spade once had his nose in was long forgotten, and all Spade could think of was the warm feeling in his chest as Harry's hand rested in Spade's without hesitation.

---

Once the boys reached the Queen of Hearts's makeshift castle, also known as the shack by the boating dock, Harry pulled his hand from Spade's. "Why are we here?"

"Sit," Spade instructed, gesturing to his beat up, dull red couch that had stains and breaking wooden stands on the bottom.

Harry rolled his eyes, which one was starting to turn dark purple and blue, and sat down on the couch while Spade stepped out of the room. A moment later, the shorter boy came out of his mom's room with a box of makeup and a piece of meat.

"Woah," Harry cut in. "You're not gonna try and put makeup on me, right?"

"Just shut up and put the meat on your eye. It's still cold," Spade handed Harry the piece of meat, which was a bright red steak. They didn't have ice packs, or even ice, on the Isle. The only way of cooling things was from the main kitchen in the center of the Isle. It was just cold enough in the basement to keep things chilled so they wouldn't rot for a few days.

Begrudgingly, Harry placed the cool piece of meat over his eye. This wasn't new to him, Harry was always getting into fights. This wasn't the first time Mal had decided to swing at him, either. He was used to getting punched by her at that point. Though, he'd never hit a girl. Not unless his life was in danger would he ever lay a hand on one.

While Harry iced his face, Spade opened his mother's makeup box. He pulled out a black eyeliner pencil, and grabbed the sharpener from the bottom of the box. Right inside the box, he worked on sharpening the pencil.

"No," Harry cut in. "I'm not wearing any make up, period. Why even are you doing that? It's only going to make the eye worse." The boy's one visible eyebrow furrowed, and he looked Spade up and down. "And don't tell me it's a magical eye pencil, either. I may be stupid, but I'm not that stupid. Magic doesn't exist here."

"You're not stupid," Spade said, his voice soft and gentle. "And it's not a magic eye pencil. Why would I lie about that?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Once the pencil was sharpened, he looked over to Harry. "Take the meat off."

"Dude, seriously--" Still, Harry took the meat off his face.

"Hey," The brown haired boy shook his head. "Trust me."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, but let out a sigh. "This better help." He murmured, before feeling Spade scoot closer. Harry tried not to feel comfortable with it, but still he didn't move away. What was this kid doing?

Gently, Spade brought the pencil up to Harry's not swollen eye. He moved the pencil around Harry's eye, working on smudging the eye liner carefully and trying not to poke Spade's eye out. As he worked, he spoke gently. "When I was little, I used to get beat up a lot."

"I didn't get beat up--" Harry started, before he was interrupted by Spade shushing him.

"I know you didn't, let me continue." Spade furrowed his eyebrows, before moving to Harry's swelling eye and beginning to work even more gently than he had before. "But, as I was saying, when I was younger I used to get beat up a lot. Bruises, black eyes, I even sprained my right wrist once."

Harry let out a sigh. What was this guy's point? The boy's blue eyes closed as Spade worked, hoping it would help with whatever the younger boy's plan was.

"One time, I got a black eye and my mom tried to put concealer on it," Spade's mom wasn't completely terrible. At least, she wouldn't hang her son out the window on a chair if he disobeyed her like Maleficent would to Mal. The boy's mother would play with makeup on him when he was young anyway. It was one of the reasons Spade was so good with pencil and color.

"When that didn't work, my mom put eyeliner on my eye. She said instead of one, swollen and purple black eye--" he paused and smudged Harry's eyeliner a bit. Harry flinched, so Spade smudged slower and lighter. "I could have two, dark black eyes. And it would look like it was a fashion statement rather than I got beat up."

Just like that, Spade stopped working. He moved his mother's makeup box, which came with a shattered mirror on the lid, and showed Harry what he'd done.

Harry was almost ashamed to say it didn't look bad. It almost looked... good. The boy's blue eyes popped with the black around it, and the bruise was almost not visible. It was covered and blended with the black of the eyeliner.

"...Oh." Harry said after a moment. He looked over to Spade and furrowed his eyebrows. "It looks... good." He felt like he was going to vomit. Not just because of what he was saying, but because he actually meant it.

Spade could tell from the look in Harry's eyes that his words were forced yet sincere. The boy's brown eyes glazed over the other boy's blue ones. And, for a moment, it seemed like the world had stopped spinning. Then again, whenever the two made eye contact, Spade could say that with ease. "Thanks," Spade said weakly, before dropping the pencil. It rolled under the couch, and quickly Spade scrambled to find it.

Harry watched Spade quickly get up, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. That whole 'world no longer spinning' moment? It was mutual. But, Harry knew society's rules on the island. That was weird, no... beyond weird. It was frivolous and dumb. No way could he ever look at a guy like that, let alone Sperm. "Here, let's move the couch so you don't hit your--" thump! "--head."

Spade lifted his head out from under the couch and rubbed it. "Yeah, you're probably right. Probably too late on the head part, though." He laughed weakly. And, admittedly, Harry laughed too.

---

The next morning, Spade could hear something flying around the perimeter of his window. It almost sounded like... rocks?

Still tired and groggy, Spade walked over and opened his window. Just as he did, a rock came flying next to his head. "Rise and shine, matey! I need your help with something."

Without realizing it, Spade jumped at the rock that slammed against his wall next to his head. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"Why, I came to make sure you didn't ditch school again!" It was true, Spade was notorious for ditching school. It was mostly because he hated the people there, but it was also because he didn't exactly have an alarm clock to wake him up on time. Seemed like Harry was the alarm clock for the day. "Get dressed and get down here! I need you to teach me how to put on the black stuff again!"

---

All day, Harry had been unusually clingy to Spade. Everyone saw it too. It was like the two were best buds out of thin air. No one liked it. As a matter of fact, it was weird.

In between classes, Harry was looking for Spade again. The two actually had quite a bit of classes together, despite Harry being in 11th grade and Spade being in 10th. The boy was a lot smarter than people tended to think was appropriate. Or maybe it was because Harry wasn't the best at school.

Uma had seen Harry as she was approaching the class Harry was leaving. Quickly, she grabbed his arm and tugged him into the janitor's closet. It wasn't like anyone cared if she was late for class anyway. The teachers were lucky is Uma was less than five minutes late.

"Hey! Uma! What are you doing?" Harry gently pulled his arm off her. To say Harry and Uma were best friends was an understatement. Ever since the girl was practically exiled by Mal, Harry had taken her under his wing. And, eventually, he started following her. He thought inflating her ego was a good idea.

"Where have you been?!" Uma asked quickly, pointing her finger in his face. The young dark-skinned girl was short, but that didn't matter. The girl was still fierce as fire and and sharp as a dagger. She could have Harry on his back at a moment's notice.

"No where," Was Harry embarrassed to say he was hanging out with Spade all day? Only slightly. He refused to accept it was because he didn't want Uma or Gil, moreso Uma, targeting the lad.

"That's some stupid answer and you know it," Uma furrowed her eyebrows. "I know you've been hanging out with Spade. What's up with that?" She looked him over, before running her hand over his swollen eye, causing him to flinch. She pulled her hand off. "...And why do you have eyeliner on?" She took a step back, almost scared to know the answer.

"Listen, Uma," Harry shook his head. "Spade's been having a hard time with Mal. I'm just making sure she doesn't make another person miserable. What's wrong with that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He completely avoided her question about the eyeliner. She didn't need to know that Spade was good with make up. The guy would never hear the end of it. Uma had a big mouth, after all, and if Mal caught word it'd get worse.

"What's wrong with that?" Uma asked as if it were a stupid question. "Harry, it's weird. Who cares if Mal makes him miserable? He's a nerd--"

"Just because he's smart, it means he should be tormented by the girl?" Harry couldn't help but defend the boy. It just came out, this time naturally and tasting less like soap in his mouth.

Uma paused, looking at Harry skeptically. "...Why are you being such a saint? What did he do for you?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head. "He did nothing for me." Was it so wrong that Harry kind of liked the guy? Spade was sweet, and there was just something about him that made Harry less angsty and angry all the time. It was almost impossible for Harry to dislike the fellow.

Uma looked at Harry for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Listen, just leave the poor guy alone..." Uma shook her head. "He's better off alone. I don't need to lose my best friend because he became too smart and snobby for me."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Was that what Uma really thought? That Harry was going to become a smart, snob? He didn't want that. Uma was right, he had a reputation to worry about. He let out a sigh, "I guess you're right." He paused. "Got any make up wipes?"

---

The next day, Harry didn't come to Spade's window. Though, Spade wasn't really expecting it. He knew it was probably a one time thing, however he was admittedly quite saddened by the Scottish pirate's lack of attendance. Just when Spade thought they were starting to become friends, too.

When Spade showed up to school, he was greeted by the floor when Ginny Gothel decided to trip him on the floor. He looked up, furrowing his eyebrows but brushing it off and continuing to walk the halls. He kept going, trying to find his locker as soon as he could.

Just as Spade approached his locker, he felt papers being thrown at the back of his head and people staring at him. He ignored it, though, like he always did. Though, this particular day seemed worse than others. 

Soon enough, when Spade approached his locker, it all made sense.

In giant, green letters, graffitied across his locker: FAGGOT SPERM.

"Look who decided to show up," The voice echoed throughout the halls. Mal Bertha strikes again, only this time... she wasn't wrong.

"Wha--Why?" Spade looked over to Mal. He could see all the students of the hall begin to stare. Why were they all staring? Was it that obvious? Had it always been that obvious? The boy had been working his entire life to keep it all under wraps.... for nothing? For his secret to be not just spilled, but exploded everywhere like water from a smashed chalice?

"Listen, faggot, why don't you just run your little ass out of here? There is not a single guy on Earth who wants it." Mal asked, smirking a bit. "We don't accept gay boys here. Not now, not ever."

Spade could feel his heart pick up speed. He looked around, seeing everyone staring at him. He could feel their eyes piercing into his soul seeing every little piece of him be ripped to shreds and examined like in a biopsy. He thought he'd felt utter shame before, but this was worse. Was this what complete and utter humiliation felt like?

The boy was speechless. He looked around the halls, waiting for someone to say something. Waiting for someone to tell Mal to leave him be, or to stop picking on him. That Spade wasn't gay or a homosexual or even into guys.

No one else said a word.

Spade looked across the hall, and watched Uma nudge Harry by the lockers down the hall. Silently, Harry walked over and cleared his throat. "Yeah, why don't you leave, fag?"

Now that? That must've been what complete and utter humiliation felt like. Not just that, but betrayal. For the one boy, the only boy, Spade had ever loved was telling him to leave and calling him a fag. Spade looked to Harry with hurt eyes, before looking back to Mal.

Silently, he stepped up to her so they were mere inches apart.

"Mal, you're a bitch."

And, without another word, Spade turned and left the way he came.

---

The moment Harry went home that afternoon, he shut his door with a thud. With the slam of the door, he startled his sister who was cooking in the kitchen: Harriet.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Harriet asked after a moment of just watching Harry. He looked peeved, more than peeved. He looked conflicted.

"I had an awful day at school, what's it to ya?!" Harry roared, before immediately feeling bad. He pressed his lips together, letting out a rough sigh. "I'm sorry. I just had a rough day."

"Want to talk about it?" Harriet asked. Though, she already knew the answer.

"No." Harry grunted, sitting down at the wobbly wooden table. He ran a hand through his hair, "I made a friend. And, guess what? I was the worst friend to him."

Harriet turned the gas stove off. Silently, she sat across from Harry. She figured sometimes it was better to just let Harry talk his feelings off.

"His name's Spade Hearts. He's the Queen Of Hearts's son, over across the street from us. He's really sweet and nice, and he's a good guy. And I think I ruined him." Harry's blue eyes almost brimmed with tears, but he held it back. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a rough breath. "It isn't fair. Why do I always get myself stuck in these situations?!"

The girl's blue eyes filled with concern as she heard her brother speak. She'd never hear him speak this way about anyone before. Maybe Uma once or twice when they they in a fight, but he never seemed this upset. Harriet let out a sigh and watched as Harry tugged at his hair. "Harry, don't do that?"

"Why? Why shouldn't I?" Harry snapped. "He's hurting right now, and it's all my fault." He paused. "We all knew he was gay. All of us. But, of course, Mal had to make a big stink about it. And it's probably all because of what I did for him the other day. I--"

"Harry!" Harriet cut in, her eyes piercing like ice shards. "Calm down."

"NO!" Harry stood up. He almost flipped the table, his enragement almost compelling him to. "Harriet, I like him!"

Harriet was stunned by this confession. But, she didn't show it. A part of her always knew... but to hear him say it? It was almost scary. She knew it was Harry's life and Harry's choice. However, the mere thought of her brother being exiled or outcasted for who he was scared her.

Still, she knew he shouldn't hide who he was. No matter what anyone else thought. How else would things get better if those who could make change didn't try? "Tell him."

"...What? No." Harry rolled his eyes. There was no way Harry was telling Spade about the stupid little crush. Spade may have been gay, but he wasn't desperate. And even if he was, why would Spade even like Harry in such a way after what Harry called him?

"Harry," Harriet stood to face him. She stood, only an inch or two shorter than him, and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Harry, I need you to listen to me, and listen to me clear." She paused, waiting for Harry to agree.

"Fine," Harry grunted, looking to his sister. The two sat down again, not even daring to roll their eyes at the creaks of the chairs as they usually did. "What?"

The brunette girl paused, her blue eyes looking over Harry for a small moment. "I don't think you're gay." She said after a moment. "But I do think it's okay for you to like boys. And, you shouldn't hide if you swing both ways. It's no one's business but your own and whoever you choose to be with's." She said quietly. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know," Harry said quietly.

"I will always love you. No matter what." Harriet knew this for a fact. "And if it's meant to be with Spade... then he will too. Even if you make a mistake or do something wrong. And, if he cares about you, then maybe not right now... but with time he'll learn to forgive you."

Harry looked at Harriet for a moment, before sighing. "Why do you always have to be right?"

"Because I'm your sister," Harriet laughed lightly. She let out a sigh a moment later. "Now go, find your guy and be honest. Try and help him understand. And, be open minded about where he's coming from. Even if he doesn't forgive you right now, there's always a chance he will eventually."

Harry looked to his sister for a moment before nodding. "Thank you, Harriet." He stood and cleared his throat. "Thank you." He repeated, before turning and heading out of the flat with a rough breath. Now to find Spade.

---

2 weeks later...

The entire cemetery was quiet as Harry approached the podium, beat up black suit and all.

There weren't many people in the graveyard that afternoon. But, there was enough to fill a small room. In the graveyard was the Queen of Hearts, the Jafar family, the De Ville family, the Hook family, and a large handful of students from Dragon Hall.

It was the day of Spade Hearts's funeral.

Harry approached the podium and adjusted the paper in front of him. He looked at it for a moment, just looking at it and reading over the words he couldn't even pronounce. He'd only used them to seem smart enough to even get to say a word at Spade's funeral.

"Spade and I didn't know each other very well," Harry started. "We went to the same school shared 5 classes together, and even lived right across the street from each other since the day he was born." He paused, trying not to get choked up at the thought of not seeing Spade at school anymore. Even more so, being the reason he wouldn't see Spade at school anymore.

"He was a star student, aced every class he was in, and was the sole member to the library that we all would steal books from to use for our fire place," Harry paused. "Spade was a good guy. He showed up to class on time when he came to school. He never failed to lend a helping hand to those in need of it. He helped me more times than I could count, and more often than not I didn't even notice it."

Harry's breath hitched. He looked at the paper for a moment, before looking up. "Spade and I became friends a few days before he died. Though, I feel like we'd always been connected through the universe somehow. Whether it be by getting assigned as potion chemistry partners, or by the mere glances we'd give each other unknowingly in the times we were near... I know Spade was not meant to be taken from us so soon."

"But, this is not just a commemoration of death." What did commemoration even mean? Harry wasn't sure, but he saw it in a dictionary. It was one of the many books he'd picked up since Spade had died. "It's a celebration of life. Of all Spade's accomplishments in his span of being, and how he will never be forgotten."

Harry felt guilty. He could feel the tears brimming in his blue eyes, and this time he didn't even bother holding it back. He hadn't cried over Spade, not since he found out. He refused to. He didn't believe in spirits or voodoo. However, he wouldn't take a chance and dare even think of Spade seeing him cry.

"Thank you, Spade. Thank you for being a marvelous and admirable person. You won't be forgotten. Not by me.... and not by anyone here." Harry took in a sharp breath.

And, as he folded up his paper and tucked it in his pocket... one could see a tear drip down Harry's face. Not just any tear, but a tear of black from the eyeliner Harry wore... and would never dare be seen without again.