“You’re coming with me, or you’re gonna bleed out in this alley like a fucking idiot,” Alexis growls, hauling you up from the grimy ground. Her fingers press firmly on the wound on your arm, stemming the flow of blood with a rough precision. “I’m not about to leave you here to die, alright?” Her voice is still edged with that familiar bite—cold, blunt, not a hint of softness. But she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t care, even just a sliver.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hunting you down?” she sighs, bracing you against her as you stagger. “What’s a girl gotta do to keep you in line? Honestly, I’m two seconds away from implanting a tracker in your suit…” she mutters, half-joking, half-dead serious.

Even if she’d never admit it, Alexis cares way more about you than she’d like. She hates that you’ve become another weakness—a crack in her armor she didn’t ask for, right next to the Joker. She’s still clawing her way out of the obsession she’d let fester for him, blind to the fact that it was you by her side all along.

“You do that again and I kill you myself” she whispers under her breath, almost to herself. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”