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He's been doing this for a while now. Sometimes it feels like he's getting nowhere. He does his shit day in and day out, and there's always someone else doing the same fucked up shit, same as yesterday, and the day before, and probably the day after too. It's neverending, it feels like.
It feels like what he does barely matters.
He's just walking down the street, from one meeting place to another, and he's on Red Hood business, so he's got the helmet on, even though it's not night yet - though it's late afternoon, and winter, so it is dark.
A young girl approaches him - she's maybe twelve, thirteen? Though she could be older and not look it 'cause of malnutrition. Or younger, actually, and not look it 'cause she's from the Alley. She's got blonde hair, and it's hanging in wisps round her face, coming out from under her hat.
She's pretty clearly looking for him - she crossed the road to walk up to him, and he's not in a rush right now, he's got time to find out what she wants.
He crouches down. She's a kid, and nervous, but only like she's approaching a crime lord, not like anything else. And she's a street kid -slightly dirty, lots of layers- which is probably why she isn't afraid. He's on one knee, at eye height for her, because he's big now, and he doesn't want to scare her, because he does kill a lot of people on a regular basis.
She starts with "You're the Red Hood."
"I am."
"I'm-. I'm Cathy- Catherine."
His heart almost skips a beat. That name, with that hair colour, and in the Alley-. But she's her own person, and he focuses on her.
She says, "Was it you? You killed Dylan Grant?"
He says, heart in his mouth, "Yes."
She says "He-."
He gently folds her hands in his own.
She falls silent. She doesn't need to tell him this.
He recognises her. She'd been repeatedly raped by a man twice her age, or close to it.
She blinks several times, fighting back tears, and whispers "I was so scared-." She sobs, "-scared he'd come back."
She hunches her shoulders, whispers, almost guiltily, "Thank you."
He says, "Always." Always. Always.
The ones that raped kids, he doesn't tell O about. What he did to them was kinder than what they'd get in prison anyway - he at least made it quick, even if it was painful. And the way he did it, he knew they were dead.
He rubs her hands, trying to warm them up.
She sobs again, silent, and he opens his shoulders up, making it clear that if she wants a hug, she can have one, but not putting pressure on her.
She doesn't take him up on it. He's not surprised. She doesn't know him, and he's close in build to the fuckhead he killed.
She tightens her grips on his hands. She repeats, "Thank you."
He murmurs "He's never going to hurt you again. Okay?"
She nods. "He's dead, right? He died screaming?"
She's an Alley kid, he can hear it in her voice, so he tells her the truth straight on, "Yeah. Killed him myself."
She nods again, stutters "And- and he's never gonna- never gonna hurt me again?"
"Never." He promises. Never, never, never.
She looks up at him then, and she's got enough grit to put the pain aside, and says "I owe you one, Hood. I'll find you when I've got something."
He nods. She's an Alley kid. Nothing is for free here. This would be, he'd do it for nothing, but no one from the Alley would accept that. So he does this, and they find information they think he'd want to know, information of the same value as his actions. And then they trade that information to him.
She looks at him, direct eye contact, and says for the third time, firm and honest, "Thank you."
He can't speak, his throat's all closed up, and he just nods in answer.
This. This is why. Maybe he's going nowhere in the grand scheme of things, but for these people, for this girl, it matters .
This is why he does it.