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Jason scrunched up his nose in disgust. The bin he’d decided to search through clearly had something dead in it. Well, maybe not, but something smelt awful and Jason’s senses were screaming he flee. He couldn’t though. He hadn’t eaten for three days and his small stomach was practically begging for substance at this point. He’d search the night previous for hours, finding nothing but rotting scraps, packages he couldn’t navigate with his claws (and far too fearful to shift to a human,) and items there would only be a last resort, ones mixed with other waste that he couldn’t consume.
He just wanted something to eat.
The garbage bin he’d been digging through proved to be a waste of his diminishing energy though, finding nothing and the stench of rotting fish stuck to his matted and dirty fur. He needed a bath too, it hadn’t rained for days so no puddles meant no wash for Jason, he dared not risk a dip in the harbour. He could swim but not enough to feel safe in the dark, murky depths of the Gotham River.
Climbing his way back out of the open waste bin, Jason landed with a thud onto the tarmac, claws digging into the hard floor to balance himself. He felt weak, wobbly on his paws. He just needed something to eat.
And then- there. Across the street, the smell of something heavenly.
Jason let out a muffled whimper. He couldn’t risk the main streets, the people would see him. If they thought him to be a shifter, he’d be taken, sold for profit or forced into labour or- well, the young ones were always more sought out for… purposes Jason would rather die than be forced into. If they thought him to be a simple skunk, not a shifter, he’d likely get trampled, attacked, killed. Skunks were a pest, a pest people feared if only for their stink… Jason didn’t like either option. Was his life worth risking for some food?
The pros and the cons weighed heavily against each other. He’d die without food, soon he’d been too weak to move and would wither away… Jason was a survivor. He’d lived months on the streets. He couldn’t die. If he went out into the main streets he could die… but if he stayed… he’d die.
Jason let out another chuffed whimper to himself, steeling himself to venture out, in daylight, to seek out the nice smell of food. The smell had stopped, the source had stopped. Jason inhaled, heavily and then bolted out, eliciting a noise of shock but nothing further. His coat helped, the lacking prominent black and white doing favours for hiding his species. The yellow tinge that had covered his coat shortly after living on the streets only to then be caked up in mud and grime made him look perhaps more like a small cat or a ferret?
Still, after a singular noise of disgust, Jason made his way to the edge of the sidewalk, hiding under a bench, breathing heavily, looking around wildly, grateful nobody seemed to pay him any interest. Across the street sat his target, a kid, on a bench, legs swinging happily as the man beside him watched on. The kid had a sandwich, crappy whole grain bread that Jason’s skunk senses seemed to crave. He didn’t want to eat whole grain… What kind of kid enjoyed whole grain? Jason scrunched up his nose. There was the smell again, peanut butter. He whined and then looked both ways, a dip in traffic all he needed to scurry across the road.
He made it, only by a hair's width, a car rolling behind his tail as he scurried back up onto the other sidewalk, pressed against a bin.
The kid was halfway through one sandwich, another resting on the bench beside him, maybe 8 or 9, older than Jason but not by much.
“I’m just going to take a call Chum, don’t move.” The man with him murmured, a hair ruffle and then he stepped to the side, lingering in a darkened doorway arch to talk on the phone, face hard and stern. Something important that Jason wasn’t interested in. All he could focus on was the food that was only guarded by a single child.
He crept forward, sticking to shadows were possible, but as soon as he got close to kid turned to stare at him, almost as though he had senses beyond normal, some sort of secret ninja training.
Jason froze, a deer in headlights as the kid frowned at him.
“Hey…” The child spoke, softly, hand reaching out, fearlessly to press onto Jason’s muddy head. Jason hissed and fluffed up his tail, the limb had started shedding fur and Jason was worried it was an after effect of living on the street.
“Sorry.” The boy pulled his hand back, not wanting to push his look, before following Jason’s eyes to his sandwich. “Oh.. you’re hungry.” He murmured, looking at the food and then at the distracted man on the phone. “Here.” The boy grabbed the full sandwich from the wrapped, ripped it in half and offered it to Jason.
Jason frowned but carefully and slowly reached to grab it with his front paws, bringing it down to the pavement instantly to bite into. It tasted amazing, even if the bread was whole grain and he hadn’t really liked peanut butter all that much when he’d mostly lived as a human. The half was gone in seconds and he looked up eagerly. The boy laughed and gave him the other half. Jason took that too, without a second thought about stealing the kids dinner. Jason devoured it, crust and all, looking back up hopefully, praying the boy had more.
The child in question looked down at his half eaten slice, then at the man again, a little furrow of eyebrows before he held that out too. Jason subconsciously felt bad, the kid clearly wanted to eat some of the food himself (it was his after all) but he’d selflessly offered it to Jason. Jason let out a quiet mewl of appreciation.
The man was done with his call and turned back. He saw Jason instantly and his face hardened.
Jason didn’t stick around.
“Wait-” The boy shouted, arm outstretched but Jason was gone.
He bolted, dipped back across the road, only just dodging a set of tires, having not looked both ways this time. He felt his heart hammer in his little chest, his stomach still hungry but no longer ravenous, his legs still felt weak- but he ran, he ran and ran and ran until he was back in the dark and the cold, surrounded by scent-masking garbage and curled under a ragged cardboard box he’d been living in. The man had lost him quickly.
Jason curled up as small as possible, making his already tiny frame even smaller. He let out a pitiful cry, unable to muffle the sounds as his stomach still rumbled for more, hunger barely sated by the sandwich from the kind boy with the nice blue eyes… Jason cried, alone and hungry, alone and dirty, alone and lost.
How much longer could he do this before he got picked up, either be CPS, a gang, or died?
Jason only cried harder, little mewling noises muffled into his paws as he tried to stay quiet, not draw attention to himself. He just wanted a hug. A hug, lunch, maybe a shower, and a roof. He didn’t want much.
Nothing came though, except the first spot of rain. And another. And another. And then a downpour, the rain making his temporary cardboard house soggy and wet and leaving him exposed to the elements. The cries mixed in with the patter of rain and Jason Todd was still alone.
