Her hands shook, she was going numb again. She hated being numb, and the pain always forced her to come back to reality. She'd been running for too long to stop now. By the looks of things, she was someplace in Oklahoma, in the rich part of town. She hid behind a building and pulled out her blade. She calmly cut her arm and watched the blood flow. She smiled. She could feel again, which calmed her down. She didn't even know where she was going anymore. She'd forgotten about a week ago. Her name was Alexandra, but she preferred Alex. It suited her tough, boyish looks more than some girls' name did. Her hair was white blond, and her skin was a light tan, but her eyes were blacker than black. That was uncommon to see in a blond-haired girl.

She'd hitched several rides with men, and had an extreme dislike for males of any kind except her older brother by now. She remembered her aunt saying his name was Dallas or Douglas, something like that. He'd known her when he lived up in New York a few years back, when she was about 11. He must have been about 14 or so at the time, but he could have very well been older. All Alex knew was that she idolized him. He'd taught her how to handle a knife, and how to hold her own in a fight against any guy. The biggest thing was to use their strength against them. The bigger they are the harder they fall and all that jazz.

She sat down, exhausted, near a fountain, and braided her hair and washed her face clean of the grime that stuck to her skin. It was late spring, but still a little chilly for her taste. Even so, she leaned against the fountain to rest, but knew that she couldn't sleep, even though it was daylight. She kept the knife in her hand, not trusting anything that moved. Someone walked up to her, and she immediately jumped up in the knife-fighting stance her brother had taught her. He was a tall guy with white blond hair like hers, and ice-cold blue eyes that she remembered from long ago.

He looked a little shocked. "Damn, girl. I ain't gonna hurt ya." She didn't relax, but lowered the knife slightly so she wouldn't be so tempted to stab him right there. He looked closer at her, and then saw the telltale scars above her right eye. "Alex?" he questioned. She nodded slowly. "It's me. Dallas. Dally. I'm your brother."

She smirked. "Last name and what was my address?"

"Winston. 38456 Apple street, Brooklyn," he rattled off like it was his phone number. Her jaw dropped, but she still looked a little wary of him. He shoved up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a three-inch scar just above his elbow. "Believe me?"

She closed the knife. "Holy shit, Dally. I haven't seen you in what… five years now?" She hugged him tightly. She sighed. "I came down to tell you that Aunt Sheila died… and I was hoping I could stay here. If it's cool with you, I mean…"

For the first time in his life, Dallas Winston let a look of pure confusion cross his face. He sighed. "Okay, kid. But you gotta meet the rest of the gang. We'll go from there." She picked up her bag and they started walking. About five minutes later, he turned and grinned at her. "So you remembered what I told ya about holding the knife." She shrugged. He slung his arm across her shoulders. "You're alright, kid."

She shook his arm off. "The name is Alex."

He just laughed. "Yeah, that's my sister. Glad to have ya here, sis." She grinned up at him, the same reckless grin that she'd seen on their father in many family pictures. They both smile like that, and she'd seen the two of them in the mirror before. Alone, they look intimidating, but together, they demand attention, and they don't back down. Ever.

When they arrived at the Curtis' house, Steve was wrestling Soda, and Two-Bit was wrestling Ponyboy. Johnny was nowhere to be seen, and Darry was hollering at Soda not to break the TV. Alex tensed. Men. Too many of them. She started backing up, nervous. Dally caught her arm. "They won't hurt you." Then he cleared his throat. "Guys. This is my sister, Alex. She's from Brooklyn." Soda looked a little confused. "Long story. Alex, that's Sodapop, Steve, Ponyboy, Two-Bit, Darry… where in the name of fuck is Johnnycake?"

Steve looked up. "Dunno. We gotta find him…."

Dally looked worried. "Alex, you're comin with us. Hopefully he's okay." She just dropped her bag and followed without question. Now wasn't the time. They went up to the vacant lot first.

Steve picked up his jacket from the ground. Alex caught sight of something rust-colored on the collar. "Steve, look." She pointed it out. They fanned out, and she tripped over him. "Shit!" She dropped to his side, knowing that if her brother was worried about someone besides her, he must be like family. "Guys! I found him!" She rolled him over gently and brushed the greasy hair off his face, which was scratched up to no end. He was shaking like a leaf. Her heart broke for him; she knew what it was like to be jumped by guys with knives… and rings on their fingers. Her personality changed in a heartbeat. "Hey, it's okay. I'm Dally's little sister. I guess you're Johnnycake, then, right?" she asked, vaguely aware that the guys were standing over her shoulder. He nodded slightly, looking as if it pained him to do so. She touched the less beat up side of his face with a warm hand. Those hands reminded people that there were indeed good girls still around that weren't snobs, that there were girls that really and truly gave a damn. Johnny tensed at first, then let the gentleness of her touch comfort him a little.

When they got back to the Curtis' house, Alex sat in front of the couch that Johnny was laid out on. He'd already started looking at her like he did Dally. Hero-worship, in a way… only it was different for her. She looked almost angelic to him.

Later that night, where Alex and Dally shared a room at Two-Bit's…

"Dall?"

He groaned and rolled over on the floor that they were sharing. "Yeah, Al?"

She popped her back. "What's with Johnny?"

He sighed. "Kid looks up to me the same way you do. His parents hate him for some reason. So… well, here I am. He's a cool kid. Reminds me a little of you sometimes, 'cept you talk more. But he's as scared of girls as you are of guys… but for different reasons." She arched an eyebrow. "Sylvia came on to him, and that scared the hell out of him. She's trash, and she plays mind games."

She bit her lip. "Aw, that ain't right… hey, didn't you go with her for a while?"

He sighed. "Yeah, two-timin' little broad…" Soon after that, he realized she was asleep, and that he was alone with his thoughts. They were very alike, besides the obvious differences; he was a guy, she a girl, and he had icy blue eyes while she had gentle black eyes. Then there was the fact that she still had a softness that surrounded her. She looked (and was) approachable until you rubbed her the wrong way. Then you were as good as dead. But Brooklyn does that to the majority of girls that live there. It made Alex hate men that she didn't know or that weren't friends of her brother, and even then… well, you had to be careful about how you treated her, or she was apt to either kill you or make you wish she'd killed you.