Alex walked away, mentally counting down while tracking position in his head, at least until he was out of sight of Carton. Once he was, he moved into action, bursting into a run, his Justicar garb giving him right of way in comparison to, well, pretty much everyone. And he had to hurry, though he didn't know it. At the time, his motion was simply for the sake of making sure Carton didn't escape despite his attempts. Even if it involved barging into a restaurant to appropriate their sink for the long since dried mist on him.

"Excuse me," he said authoritatively as he moved into the kitchen, opening the faucet with cold water and dipping his face beneath to let the cool water wash over him. At that moment, Cole hit the trigger, and the mist caught alight in a burning, angry fire. It clawed at him, burned where the water had yet to reach, eliciting pained cries from the Justicar's lips as he twisted in motion, trying to douse the flames in the water. It didn't help that his front was on fire either, though the armor he wore helped there. 

At last he pulled away, batting out what remnants of the flames lingered with a towel, though it earned him spots of pain from the wounds he had incurred, ash and flaking, burned skin staining the once clean towel. It hurt to breathe, to move, but he shed his garb and the others nearby helped him to stamp it out. It was there he decided to park it, figuring that an ambulance would show up for him soon. So he tried to not move and waited, battling the pain that coursed through him. Now he knew, Carton could not be trusted, and the next time, he would be ready for it.