Alex Stern

Having a dog has imposed all kinds of new routines on their lives. Kirby is a big dog, basically still a puppy, and he needs a lot of exercise. Darlington usually takes him for a run first thing in a morning and then Alex takes him for a walk in the park in the early evening, when the light is taking on that violet quality that she loves so much. He's pretty good at being on the leash, and she doesn't have to lean too much wait back to keep him where she wants him. Coming up to the batting cages, she sees a familiar shape, lanky and loose, and she changes their direction to head towards him.

"Hey, Harrington," she calls, raising her free hand in greeting. "Steve!"

Living with Darlington is a very different experience to living with anyone else that Alex has ever shared space with. With Mira, there was all kinds of attempts at rules and structure that never really worked out, while Ground Zero had been chaos of the ugliest kind. Her dorm room had been nice, the girls there for company, the sound of Mercy breathing at night. She'd never really had a chance to sleep at il Bastogne.

But here they are.

They haven't really done anything all day, just slept late and then lazed around in each other's company. She'd even managed to talk Darlington out of going for a run. Now, they're lying on the couch, their legs tangled together comfortably. Darlington's reading and Alex is idly flipping through cable channels. She nudges him with her heel against his thigh.

"Your turn to cook," she says, glancing at him.

Alex is in a shitty, shitty mood. She has been for days, since the first argument with Darlington but now, after the conversation that they'd had in his apartment, the things that both of them had said, she's just fucking furious. She's not down to work tonight and she just needs to get out of her own head so she picks up her phone and texts Caleb.

want to hang out? xA

While she's waiting for him to respond, she gets in the shower and washes her hair, tries to scald the irritation out of her with hot water.

It's not entirely successful.

She's danced on her own tonight but now she's ready to go again and, this time, it's going to be her and Kavinsky together. When they've done this before they've cleaned up and Alex doesn't expect this to be any exception. They're starting to ramp up the content of the dances, starting to play a little bit more to the crowd and Alex is finding that she enjoys that. It makes her feel so deeply in control when she sees the way men look at her right before they throw their money at her.

She preens a little in a mirror backstage, fluffing her hair, adjusting the ties of her top, the flare of her skirt over fishnets and tall, tall boots. Her tits are riding high in a bandeau bikini top and she's got her g-string under her panties. She's ready to go.

Now that Darlington is in town (not in a pocket universe where she can't get to him, essentially lost to her), Alex finds herself more invested in making her apartment feel like home. She's never had this kind of disposable income and, after buying herself t-shirts and sweaters and underwear and jeans, a really good pair of boots and a good jacket, she turns her attention to nesting. Ground Zero had been a shithole, but this was her place, and she was going to do it right.

She hadn't wanted to subject Darlington to shopping, so she'd sent Caleb a text and arranged to meet him so that they could go browse together. Alex is dressed in a sweater that's too big for her (she hadn't been able to resist it in the store; it had been so soft), her leather jacket, the voluminous scarf that Darlington bought her for Christmas, soft navy wool studded with tiny silver stars.

It should be fairly straight forward: she just needs to find the effluvia, the thing personal enough that it'll let North track down Tara on the other side, beyond the veil. The retainer should do the job; what could mean more to the pretty blonde girl that Tara had been than the possibility of perfect teeth? Alex fills the sink with water and drops the retainer into it. A pale hand grasps at it and, when she looks up, North is holding it, his perfect lip wrinkled with distaste.

"You wanted effluvia," says Alex, with the barest shrug.

The man in the doorway, not a gray but a man, living and breathing and furious, startles her. SHe opens her mouth to speak but it's too late, he's already charging at her, barelling into her and slamming her back against the wall. Her head cracks against the windowsill and she sees stars, shock singing in her ears. His thick fingers curl around her throat and Alex claws at him, black spots already dancing at the corners of her eyes.

Not like this, she begs. Not like this. Not like this.

Van Nuys girl to the end, she jabs her fingers into his throat, like she'd wanted to do to Darlington that day he'd set Lethe's jackals on her. His grip loosens, which lets her suck in enough of a breath to slam her knee up between his legs. When he doubles over, Alex shoves past him, hurtling into the hallway but, shit, she can't remember where the fucking door is and he's right behind her and it shouldn't have been possible for him to be this quick but here he is and she has the chance to think portal magic before he's on her again, and he's broken her ribs, she knows that he has and every breath screams with pain. Before she can get past him again, he has his hands around her throat again.

"Nowhere to run, bitch."

North is at the edge of her vision, shouting, though all she can see is the working of his mouth - from this far, she can't hear a word. He wants her to let him in, doesn't he? It's the only chance she has. She reaches out her hand to him. She lets him in.

Everything after that is a blur. She hears his bones crunch: his fingers, his knees but he still manages to punch her hard enough to send her crashing to the floor. Even North's strength can't keep her standing. She goes under. And she's only dimly aware of Turner there, with his badge and his gun, saving the day. Her pain is like a time-lapse photograph, blooming all in one go, and Alex can barely keep herself standing. She just needs to get back to Il Bastone. She just needs to get back to Lethe, and then everything will be okay

Except Darlington won't be there, will he? So maybe everything is never going to be okay again…

She hears Dawes' voice, barely stumbles up the stairs to the armoury and props herself up against the side of Hiram's Crucible. It vibrates softly, gently. Alex keeps herself standing while Dawes strips her down and then she crawls into the crucible, sinking down into the liquid that's warm as a dream. As she closes her eyes, Alex wonders if the crucible could burn away her past, her present, make it so she would never have to see another gray. Is that what she really wants?

Hurting so deeply, Alex closes her eyes and lets herself sink.