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The building, if it can still be called that, is drafty. It’s odd that this is the sticking point for the teenage girl currently living here, yet there it is. The building is falling apart. Any running water always comes up brown, there are mice living in the walls, and it’s cold. She owns only the clothes on her back, along with a few pictures from her childhood, and the Magen David she wears around her neck.
As she lies underneath her threadbare blanket, she hears a soft voice at her window. “Rebecca? Rebecca Gorman?”
Judging by the odd hood he wears, it appears to be the new vigilante in town, the “Red Hood” if she recalls correctly. He sits on her window sill, kicking his legs back and forth.
“What’s it to you?” Rebecca asks. He shrugs. “Are you here to kill me?"
He shakes his head. “If I had wanted to kill you, Rebecca, you would already be dead.”
“Good to know, Red. Then why are you here?”
He stands, stretching. “Because I’m looking for something.” He wanders around the room, taking in its decrepit state and sparse furnishings. “By the way, you’re awfully calm for someone who thought I was here to kill them a second ago.”
“I was born and raised here in Gotham, Hood. It’s gonna take more than you to phase me.”
He lets out a bark of laughter at that as he continues around the room. Soon he stops at one of the few pictures Rebecca kept from her childhood. On it is a young Rebecca with her arm around a black haired boy, both of them beaming at the camera. “Who is this?” Hood’s voice sounds softer, and his head tilts to the side.
“That’s me and,” Rebecca pauses, then clears her throat. “That’s me and Jason.”
“Who’s Jason?” Hood almost sounds like he knows the answer, and it’s not something he wants to hear.
“Jason was my childhood best friend.” She looks down, playing with the frayed edge of the blanket.
“What happened to him?”
“He died.” She bites her lip, fighting back tears.
“I’m sorry.” The vigilante almost sounds like he's blaming himself for something when he says that. Before she can ask, he speaks again. “What was he like?”
Rebecca looks up at the man and motions for him to sit beside her. She smiles softly, and begins talking. “First of all, I don’t think “best friend” really covers what he was to me. He was more like a brother. Stubborn as a mule, and far too reckless, but he was smart. Oh was he smart. He loved to read. We found a battered copy of Little Women once and read it to each other. He cried when Beth died. He was sweet and protective, always willing to help. He had so much potential, y’know? He would have done great things.”
“Sounds like you really cared about him.”
“I loved him, Red. I still love him. He was my family, more than my parents ever were. I like to think he’s still with me, somehow.”
Hood lets out a little snort at that, muttering under his breath, “Oh more than you know, Beccs.” He then stands abruptly, making for the window.
“Hey Red!” She says, “Weren’t you looking for something?”
“I think I found it. Take care of yourself, Rebecca.”