Run...
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Sister Caroline was gaining on her. The healing welts on her wrists stung in memory and fearful anticipation. Lexie ran hard, looking for any place she could hide, until Sister Ruth came back from her meeting with the director. If she could make it til then, she'd be safe.
Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. She tripped, and scrambled on the ground for purchase. There! A cupboard, left open, but big enough for her to curl into. Palms and knees stinging, Lexie crawled into the hole, covering her mouth to hide her frantic breathing. She could feel the grit of dirt and the taste of copper against her lips.
"Alexandera..." Sister Caroline's voice echoed in the priory halls, her name drawn out, beckoning. Lexie sobbed, lowing her head into her knees. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of-
Lexie hands shifted to her ears, to hide the Sister's laughter, biting her lips to control her sobs. There was an awful smell, like the rotten eggs she had cracked open one day in the kitchens. Gagging on the memory, she caught movement in the corner of her wide eyes. Her breath hitched to a stop.
Sister Caroline moved in an unnatural way, hunched over, searching, hunting. Head extended forward like a hunting dog as she moved in the darkened corridor. That acrid smell stronger.
She stopped.
Lexie felt her heart skip, stop, and pick up into a chest burning pace.
Sister Caroline moved past.
Lexie waited, reciting her Hail Mary's five times in her head, before she slowly, slowly, slowly crawled out of the cupboard.
The hall was barren, quiet. She could hear the wind howling outside.
"Found you!"
Lexie bolted.
Sister Ruth would come soon.
She always did.
She had to...
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Run...
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Just gotta find a secluded spot. Somewhere safe to sleep. Someone stole her backpack, her small pack of belongings. Not much, but the little cash she'd stolen from the donation box was a blow. She should have known better
Alexandera felt eyes on her. Paranoia seeping into her bones, more than the wind that chilled her limbs. This wasn't the first time she'd ran away, not the first time she had to dodge the creeps on the street. Head down towards the cement, Alexandera side eyed the figures around her. None seemed to be looking at her, but...
But... they could be. They could be waiting for her guard to go down. Sister Ruth had called her lovely, once. Lovely, lonely girl, alone on the streets.
Easy target.
Was that the sound of her footsteps echoing, or was someone following her? Should she slow down to check the steps? Should she speed up to avoid? Was there somewhere she could step inside to hide?
She'd learned from her last stint on the streets, she needed to get out of sight. Where?
Wind blew through her threadbare blanket she stole from the dorms, and Lexie tightened her arms around herself. She couldn't feel the rosary around her neck. Had she finally lost it?
Something crunched behind her. Someone stepping on broken glass. Someone close.
Lexie tensed.
Too close.
There was laughter. Deep, spine chilling laughter.
Hot breath on the back of her neck.
Lexie bolted. She remember what almost happened last time.
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As fast as you can...
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There was smoke.
She could smell it.
Greg?
Beth?
Mom?
Dad?
I had brought a camera...
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There was a camper ahead.
Great.
Needed to take care of that.
Don't want to spoil the fun...
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Alexandera had been wandering through dark corridors for what felt like forever.
Had Speed Racer not locked the door?
She couldn't remember how she'd gotten out.
She was lost.
She had to get out.
She had to get back.
She heard a scuffle.
Bodies dropping.
Hope in her chest.
Was it her boys?
Was it her Boys?
She flew forward.
Hope.
Hoping.
Bodies.
Green.
Blue.
Grey.
Dark hair.
Small...
There was blood.
"Damien?"
Speed Racer stood over her brat.
There was blood.
There was a gun.
There was blood and there was a gun and there was her brotherand there was bloodandhewasn'tmovingwhyisn'themoving?!
Not enough air!
Speed Racer turned his head.
Alexandera snapped.
Alexandera screamed her brothers name.
Alexandera charged.
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I may have miscalculated...
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He ran.
Alexandera hot on his heels.
"You killed them!"
He was fast, but Alexandera had nothing left to lose.
"I'm gonna kill you!"
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"You said she hasn't texted you yet?"
"No sir. She told me if I didn't get a text, I was supposed to contact you."
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She was gaining on him.
Heart thudding, chest burning.
She kicked off her left foot.
And fell onto the murderers back.
He rolled over, fighting her off.
A tousle of limbs as Alexandera scratched at his helmet and arms.
Alexandera slammed her head into his, she felt no satisfaction at his grunt.
Alexandera babbled, incoherently, screaming, as she struggled to hold him down.
She wasn't a killer.
But she could throw a damn fine barbecue.
And if they didn't show up...
Well, she was always told she was going to burn in hell, anyway...
"Why?! Why?! WHY?!"
She was crying, eyes blurring.
She was screaming.
Speed Racer said something. She missed it. She didn't care.
She dug her nails into his wrists, keeping him pinned.
"Bitch!" He yelled. Alexandera laughed, the sound hollow.
"You killed him!"
Her brat.
Her Smokebomb.
Her brother.
He bucked, and Alexandera hitched her hips, wrapping her legs around his.
She just had to wait for her boys.
She just had to wait.
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He never thought he'd have to use the antidote...
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There was smoke.
Was her prison on fire?
How ironic.
She had planned, so long ago, to burn in her diner.
At least she'd go down taking this son of a bitch with her.
She laughed.
She cried.
She wailed.
She screamed.
The world seemed to shift. A nauseating feeling of vertigo. The walls of reality melting away.
Or was reality melting in.
Alexandera felt stunned. Dizzy.
She was on her back.
"Bitch!" Something tugged at her hair, yanking a thin strand.
"Ow!" She smacked her assailant. "Fuckin' stop, I'm t-"
"Tender headed." The Chef blinked. The world before her focused.
Tunnel vision
A torn burlap sack, a black eye shining in moonlight, icy blue rimming the pupil.
Her heart thudded in her chest.
She cried in relief.
She flailed her arms in anger, hitting him and the soft earth below.
Scarecrow took it all with no complaint, watching her breakdown.
Through the torn hole in burlap...
He looked remorseful.
"You asshole..." The Chef could still see the forest warping sickeningly in her peripherals, but she could swear she could make out each individual strand on the mask. "Asshole!"
Alexandera thrashed, enraged, wanting to claw the black eye out staring her down. He held strong, her wrists pinned down. She could feel tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Calm down."
"Fuck you!" Alexandera roared, panting from exertion. "I'm gonna send your ass back to hell!"
"Alexandera!" The Chef halted, he'd never said her name before, not that she could remember.
His head was hung low, as he let go of her wrists, she was stunned, she wasn't fighting back. His lanky form heaved upward, hand reaching out. She took it, and he hefted her up with ease.
The Chef roared, and tackled him again, tore off the sack covering his face, and punched him in the jaw.
"You think an apology will make it better?!" Another punch, the other side of his jaw. "You fucking gassed me!" She swung again, just grazing his nose.
"I saw Damien dead!" Another swing.
"I saw Jonathon dead! And Jervis! And Edward!" Another hit.
"I thought you were that Red asshole!" She missed.
"I was gonna kill you!" Another miss. She couldn't see his face.
She was crying. He wasn't fighting back.
"FIGHT BACK DAMMIT!"
….
He didn't.
"Why?" The Chef pleaded, sobbing. She was afraid to close her eyes.
She didn't want to see them dead.
"I thought it'd be fun..." He spat out blood. "I was wrong." The Chef flailed again, slapping at him.
"Fun? FUN?!" Her shoulder hurt, her throat hurt. "What? Not fun because I'm fighting back? Not screaming in terror?!"
"Ain't no fun seein' ya cry!"
"Then I'll just keep on beating you until you can't fucking see!" Alexandera curled her hand into a fist again, ready for another onslaught.
"I'm sorry!" There was a smell of sulfur in the air.
"Bullshit!" He caught her fist, and when Alexandera raised her other hand, he grabbed that one too.
"I am sorry. Not fer gassin' ya. I'm sorry ya saw that." The mention alone had sobs wracking Alexandera's body.
"You all... Dead. Dead and I couldn't..." He held her arm aloft as she cried. They sat there in the middle of a dark forest, quiet save for her cries.
Eventually, he sat up, and held her when she slumped over.
She let him.
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He carried her out of the forest, she couldn't stop crying and she hated it.
"Greeeaaat..." The Chef rubbed at her eyes, clearing tears. There was a car, it wasn't Mouse's clunker.
"What did you do?!" Edward's blurry form shot from the backseat, the door slamming shut, echoing in the night. He rushed forward, gold cane glinting in moonlight, the end pointed at Scarecrow. "Alexandera, are you okay?" The Chef sniffed hard, choking on a sob, shaking her head.
"I made a mistake. I'mma fix it, Nygma." Scarecrow growled out, the hold on her tightening. Alexandera squirmed.
"Unhand her, demon! You've obviously done enough!" There was a standoff, sulfur in the air. She could feel the growl rumbling in Scarecrow's chest. The Chef wiggled hard, freeing a leg, letting it drop.
"Let me go." The Chef demanded. "Now." Her heart hurt at each beat. Black eyes glared at her. With surprising gentleness, he lowered her to stand.
"Come here, Alexandera." Edward ordered, and The Chef backed up, not turning her back on Scarecrow. He didn't stop her. She flinched hard when a hand met her shoulder, gasping loud. Edward pushed her behind him. "Go. Have Jonathon contact me when he wakes up."
"Yeah, yeah, whateva'." Scarecrow never took his eyes off her. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but he closed it with a grunt, shook his head, and stalked away.
"Get in the car." Edward whispered, Alexandera stepped backward the entire time, eyeing the tree line frantically.
It wasn't until the passed Wayne Manor did she feel her heart start to slow.
It was quiet the entire time.
"I called your men." Edward spoke quietly. She still jolted. "Would you prefer to go home or to the diner?"
The Chef didn't know.
He knew where both were.
"I have a safe house he doesn't know about." Edward supplied. Had she said that aloud? She didn't care.
"Please."
"As you wish."
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