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hunterssm00n · 10 months

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Hello, From the Other Side

Lex reflects back on her experience under the ice in the Pyramid, and remembers the one reason she made it out alive. Set one year after the events that occurred on Bouvetoya Island. | Lex/Scar |

part 1 of 2

my Scar & Lex series on ao3: here

*cw psychological trauma*

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It was quiet.

Not the deadly kind of quiet that precedes an earth-shaking storm, nor the kind that you note in horror movies, where it always seems to be followed by the killer making his next bloody score. This was a peaceful quiet.

However serene this type of silence was, there was always that little voice in Lex's head now that whispered for her to be alert. Ever since the incident ("accident", as the news reports had deemed it) on Bouvetoya Island, this little voice had been constant. It spoke to her in the most un-assuming of times, always reminding her to watch herself. It was rather embaressing at times; especially in front of other people. Going all Amazon-warrior-lady, her eyes scanning every surface, her spine going rigid... It was definitely a way to leave an impression, though not necesarrily one that she would've preferred. She knew it wasn't schizophrenia; she didn't need a doctor to tell her that. Rather, it was a form of post-traumatic stress disorder - a constant survival instinct that, one year later, she still couldn't seem to shake. But then again, the news reports hadn't known the full extent of what had happened, hadn't seen the things she saw. What had occured on Bouvetoya Island was no mere accident.

Who could blame her for being paranoid? She had every right, as the therapist had told her, to feel the way she did. She didn't want this right. She wanted to feel normal again. Wanted to worry about paying her electric bill on time, about what she was going to wear on a date, about what she was going to have for dinner. Not about whether or not there would be a monster lurking around the corner in the hallway of her house, waiting to drag her off into the darkness.

Lex Woods crunched through the snow up the walkway of her little cubby in the forest. The heavy grocery bag in her right hand was nearly weighing her down, as her left hand searched for her house key in her coat pocket. Her fingers found the familiar ridges of a Pepsi-Cola bottlecap, and she knew the key would come out with the cap should she pull the string. She had turned the bottlecap necklace into a makeshift keychain, and it served its purpose as both a practical asset and a memoir.

She inserted the key into the lock on her front door, giving a small smile at the thought of her friend, Sebastian. In the few hours they'd been friends, they'd come to know each other better than she knew most of her female friends she'd been in the company of for years. In an instinctive, survival situation though, it was easy to get to know someone on a deeper level; whether they were a runner or a fighter, how well they did under pressure, how deeply they let their fear affect them.

Stepping inside her house, Lex stomped the snow off of her boots, and gently pushed the door shut. All of the main lights were on in her house, creating a bright, warm atmosphere. Since the incident, Lex had a hard time walking into a completely dark room. She'd taken to leaving lights on even when she wasn't home, just in case she came back after dark, so she wouldn't have to step into the shadows to try and find the lightswitch. She hadn't been kidding about wanting to worry about paying her electric bill - it was more often then not a little outrageous for someone who lived by themself.

Hanging up the bottle cap on the key hook next to her door, she took a moment to study the familiar logo etched on the surface of the cap. Remembering the sardonic way Sebastian had explained how he found it, she gave another small smile. That was a good sign. It had taken her a long time to think about him without crying.

Lex toed her boots off, nudging them with a sock-clad foot over onto the floor mat so they could dry. Heaving the bag of groceries up, she carried it over towards the brightly lit kitchen area while stripping off her winter skins with her free hand. She left her coat on the back of an armchair, along with her hat, scarf, and gloves. Before Bouvetoya, she never would have left it laying around. She was a meticulous person - especially about her space. She kept things very tidy and neat. While her home was still clean, even now, she had stopped caring about little things such as leaving her coat on a chair. Things like that didn't really phase her now, it seemed.

During the process of unloading her groceries, a sudden thundering on her roof nearly had her jumping out of her skin, and she gasped as the blood zapped through her veins like an electric shock. Dropping the bag of apples in her hand, the paper bag practically exploding on impact with the floor, the hand that had been holding them immediately clenched into a fist.

The rumbling seemed to roll down the slope of her roof before thumping to the ground with enough impact to rattle her kitchen window.

She was in front of the window before she even knew what she was doing, and tore back the curtain to reveal whatever was making the noise. An avalanche of snow was seen pouring off the roof onto the ground, then it slowed to a stop with the last pitter patters of the packing, wet substance hitting the ground. Snow. It had been snow. It hadn't been the first time snow had come rocketing down from one of the trees over her house, but she was shaking like it was nothing she'd ever experienced. No. Like it was something she had experienced, and never wanted to go through again.

To make doubly sure, she took a moment to listen for... She didn't know exactly what. For something, anything out of the ordinary. That same, peaceful silence met her ears, her fridge humming being the only other sound besides her pounding heart.

Satisfied that she wasn't in danger, she let the curtain drop to cover the window, and turned back to face the warm, light room. Leaning back against the counter, she tried to calm herself. Placing a hand over her heart, she knelt to sit on the floor, trying in vain to breathe steadily through her nose. The familiar signs of a panic attack flooded to the surface of her mind, and she was just grounded enough to roll her eyes. She was actually having an anxiety attack over snow.

She breathed in through her nose, letting it out through her mouth, leaning her head back against the cupboard to open her windpipe so she could suck in more oxygen. Staring at the cieling, she laid both hands flat on the floor, extending her legs out in front of her. You're fine, you're fine.

And then she thought of him.

He was always in the back of her mind, and who could blame her for keeping his memory alive? He had been her warrior partner through the crucial climactic point of their survival journey under (and later, above) the ice. She had saved his life, and he had saved hers. Back to back, together they had fought their way out of the maze of the Pyramid. He was a prescence in her mind, and at times like this, he pushed to the front of her brain like an emergency responder, trying to revive her. Physically, he was not there, but he lived on in her memory. During her "moments" like this, the thought of him always either made her feel better, or worse.

Better, because he had essentially saved her life. She liked to think she would have survived without him, but in reality, she knew she would not have. Her savior had protected her, helped her back onto her feet when she had been knocked down, had done the impossible and ensured her survival. And that was usually where the 'worse' feelings began - the fact that she had been the lone survivor.

It was a psychological thing, she knew. She longed for him to once again help her through her fear, to stand her up and brush her off. She ached for it, sometimes. He had been there, experienced this horror with her. He had made her feel safe - not in the lovey-dovey, soap opera, romance novel kind of way, but literally. She had felt the reassurance of safety, being with someone who could face those monsters, and was more than capable of destroying them. She'd seen him do it. The thought of him was the only thing that made her feel safe anymore. And he was gone.

During her panicked moments, she held onto the thought of him like a lifeline, and it made her ache to think that that was all he would every be; a thought. A distant memory of someone she had only known for a few hours, but had left more of an imprint on her mind than anyone she'd ever known. Sebastian had been a handsome, charming, wonderful person, and Lex could definitely have seen herself remaining his close friend, had he survived Bouvetoya.

But it was not Sebastian she thought of when she awoke from her nightmares.

Lex had one hand on her heart as it started to calm, and the other moved to cover her forehead as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. The way the mind worked under moments that relied only on instinct, the things people never realized about themselves until they were placed under that pressure... Lex had realized that she, like him, was a warrior. He wouldn't have marked her cheek with his barbaric, warrior symbol had she not been. But since they had been through such an intense situation together, and he had been the only one to make it to the surface with her, she now had a terrible time dealing with any thought of Bouvetoya without his memory. It was crazy, and silly, she knew. But she missed him. That was probably, she thought bitterly, another side-effect of her post-traumatic, whatever. Placing all of her emotions and distress onto him, putting all of her faith into him, trusting him to keep her safe, even now, when he wasn't here.

She didn't even know his real name (only her nickname for him, based on the mark he had given both of them once they reached the surface), but she knew his prescence. It was unforgettable. She pined for that prescence in her moments of fear.

A small noise escaped her throat, and she let out a shakey breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered, another whimper following her words, "I'm so, so sorry." Sorry that she hadn't been strong enough to protect him, as he had done for her.

After a few more minutes of steady breathing, Lex finally dried her eyes, and picked herself up off the ground.

"This can't be healthy, missing a dead alien from another freakin' galaxy," she muttered, trying to lighten her mood. "Not good for someone's health, at all."

Lex bent to pick up one of the many apples scattered across her kitchen floor, when another crashing noise came from her roof. She jumped, then shook her head, "Snow, you idiot, it's snow."

Then, what sounded like something crawling, on hands and feet, scaling the slope of her roof. Lex frowned. It was snow, right?

Holding her breath, she heard the steady thump, bump reach the edge of her roof, and then came to a THUD right outside the front of her house. She would've ran and hid, or even fainted in terror, had she not heard a familiar chittering, clicking noise coming from outside.

It can't be. She had heard that noise enough to know what it meant; it was something she could never forget. Lex walked slowly towards the door, one foot in front of the other, but she didn't even make it there before the damn thing was kicked open, slamming against the wall with enough force to rattle the windows, yet again.

She shrieked, jumping back a few feet, putting the kitchen island between her and whatever was about to come through the door. In no time at all, as though she was in danger and it was coming to her aid, a massive, hulking figure flew through the doorway, nearly smashing both walls down in it's haste. It was a blur, until it landed steadily on the floor a few feet away from the wide open entrance to her house. Then, only then, was she able to comfirm her suspicion.

It was a - well, whatever her companion had been. She noted the smooth, black dreadlocks that adorned it's head, as well as it's massive size, even crouched down, like it was now. Then the creature lifted it's head to look at her, and rose to it's full height. She gasped, unable to stop the noise even if she'd been in the right frame of mind to do so. Her heart pounded still, but in a completely different way, this time. Not out of fear, but out of disbelief; out of, dare she think it, excitement.

"Scar?"

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AN: I do not own the Alien vs Predator franchise or any of it's characters. I also do not own the song 'Hello' by Adele.

part two

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