Beep.
Someone was shouting. His yowls seemed to bounce around off of walls of stone.

Beep.

A clammy, bloody hand cupped her face as frightened blue eyes gazed into her own. She can't hear what he's saying but she can read his lips. "Stay with me."

Beep.

Her heart twinges as another man practically drags Will away. She is left alone with those dark eyes staring into her own. She can see the satisfaction and triumph boiling beneath the surface and it hurts more than any stab wound or gunshot ever could.

Beep.

Green eyes fluttered open as shouting came from outside the room. "What do you mean she's a murder suspect, she's a CHILD!"

The next voice was just as stressed and anxious. "Jonathan, please, we can't afford an incident."

Ashley forced herself to sit upwards. Sure enough, she could see a rather upset-looking Jonathan Crane and Edward Nygma prepared to rip out Jack Crawford's throat. She couldn't hear the next part, but the teen was absolutely certain it was a threat in the form of a riddle.

The corners of her cracked lips twitched slightly. It was always nice to see when Scarecrow and the Riddler got defensive over... well, anything really.

Her attention was pried away by the nurse who had entered the room. "Oh, you're awake. That's good."

Ashley nodded slightly and mentally noted how tangled her hair felt. "You can allow my... uncles in but do me a favor and send Agent Crawford home. I'm sure his wife needs him more than I do."

The woman in scrubs hesitated for a moment before exiting the room. Ed and Jonathan were quick to enter.

Ashley had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at their 'civilian attire'. Jonathan had taken a page out of Hannibal's book and was wearing a three-piece brown plaid suit with an 'off white' dress shirt.

Ed, in comparison, had gone with something... more flashy and theatrical. Ed's suit was a deep pine green and they must've left the house in a hurry, because the tie was missing and the shirt was only partially buttoned, despite the fact it was snowing outside. In all honesty, Ashley's just thankful he ditched the brighter greens three years ago when she had told them they looked like the world's tallest leprechaun.

The redhead in question didn't even hesitate before trying to assess her wounds. "What were you thinking? You know better than to get shot by a fucking cop."

Ashley, to her credit, didn't even flinch as the semi-retired supervillain started to prod the fresh bullet wound. "I believe Jack is technically a 'Special Agent', not a cop."

Ed scowled as they finally moved back. "Well, you can consider yourself 'technically grounded!"

Jonathan, however, looked even more deathly pale than usual. "Ths is Hannibal's fault, isn't it?"

Confusion followed by realization washed over the exhausted teen. "Hannibal's ex-fiancé, the one no one talks about, that was you, wasn't it? What did he do to you?"

In all her years, Ashley had never seen Jonathan Crane look so goddamn human, not even when Ed had gotten diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. That was scarier than anything his fear toxin could've possibly shown her.

She can't run, she can't hide. All she can do is wait and see what the cat has in mind for her.

≈§≈

Ashley hesitated for just a moment before knocking on the door. It swung open and cold, dead eyes met hers. A hand dragged her inside and slammed the door shut behind her. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Relax Rudy, I'm not here to kidnap you." The teen let the 'again' go unsaid.

≈§≈

Ashley's breathing hitched slightly as she smoothed out her skirt that was far too short for comfort. To say her latest scheme was risky was an understatement, it was downright stupid.

Finding the so-called 'Ice Truck Killer' had been relatively easy considering she wasn't even in Miami, Florida at the time. Getting him to corporate, however, was a whole other can of worms.

Naturally, she decided her best option would be to lure him somewhere private. Honestly, the hardest part of the 'operation' wasn't getting him alone m̶o̶s̶t̶l̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶n̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶m̶u̶r̶d̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶. It wasn't even getting him into the car after drugging him. It had been finding the same nail polish he had used on his victim so she could lure him in.

The man let out a groan and she watched as 'Rudy Cooper'  came to his senses. Ashley couldn't help but laugh slightly. "Give it up buddy. Rudy Cooper's been dead for months, so you can drop the act, Brian. Or would you prefer 'the Ice-Truck Killer?' By the way, if you ever get caught, you should totally sue whoever gave you that dumb nickname."

Ashley tossed him her 'Joker' smile and set her papers off to the side as he stilled. There was something euphoric about watching him drop the mask.

"How old are you exactly?"

"I'm fifteen." Ashley shrugged and stood up and crossed her arms in one smooth motion. "You're not as good as you think you are."

Brian let out a groan. A full-grown serial killer taken out by a literal child. Now that was embarrassing.

"Although, I have to admit, your killing technique was practically flawless. I'd ask how you did it if it wasn't so obvious. But that's not why I'm here, and I'm not here to stop you, either."

His eyebrows quirked upwards slightly in confusion. "Then what exactly do you want?"

She grinned widely. "Why, to make you a proposition of course! Or, more accurately, to make your brother a proposition."

≈§≈

He rolled his eyes at her poor attempt at a joke. "No, I mean, running from the Feds? What were you thinking?"

Ashley let out a sigh. "I panicked, okay? If you want me gone, I'll go. Just let me take a bath, please?"

The serial killer eyed her momentarily. She tossed her best 'pitiful' look. Accompanied with the leaves and blood in her hair, and the scratches and dirt on the rest of her body, how could anyone refuse?

Brian pursed his lips. "Ok. Go shower, I'll think of something."

Her pitiful expression was replaced with one that could best be described as 'pleased cat'. "Thanks Biney."