Chapter Text
This would be such a stupid way to die, Taylor thought as he stepped into the nearest scary alley.
“Simon Dark?” he asked.
Taylor was anxious. How could he not be? He was trying to find a Gotham vigilante not only on purpose, but also to deliver potentially bad news. Bad news made everybody upset, but vigilantes were already crazy, and if you were to give someone like Batman bad news, you might end up with a broken nose.
Especially if you had a criminal record.
“Simon?” Taylor called again into the dark, empty alley. “I gotta talk t'ya.”
No one knew exactly where Simon Dark lived, but Taylor knew that if you were getting attacked, your yelps of terror would usually summon him from the… well, it was in his name. Taylor didn't want to lead this interaction with a lie, though, so he'd settled for trying to holler loud enough to call him out of the shadows.
“Simon?”
Nothing. Dammit, this was getting him nowhere. Maybe he needed a new plan.
Just as he turned to go, he heard a whisper of sound. Taylor spun on his heel to see Simon Dark himself, creepy mask and all, a mere handful of inches away from him.
“Gah!”
Simon stepped backwards. “Sorry. You need something?”
Sorry? He's sorry for scaring the shit outta me? Taylor swallowed. This could either go mediocre or violently awful.
“Somebody’s lookin' for you.”
“Somebody other than you?” Simon tilted his head and the creepy half smile on the mask made him seem more amused than he probably was. Vigilantes weren't exactly known for their forgiving nature, and Taylor had probably interrupted whatever the hell Simon If-You’re-Bad-He’ll-Make-You-Pay Dark did in his free time.
God, Taylor was gonna die. This was it. This was how he kicked the bucket. Simon was gonna decapitate him.
“Yeah,” Taylor managed. “He's a drug lord in Crime Alley.”
Simon’s posture went from curious to actively interested. “Any idea what he wants?”
“Not really. Just'at he's as dangerous as you.”
“I doubt that,” Simon dismissed almost flippantly. He was definitely amused now. “And didn't you just say he's a drug lord?”
“Yeah,” Taylor nodded. “But he has rules. No dealing to or hurting kids, no bothering the corner girls… that kinda thing. And he doesn't kill cops. All things considered, he's a lot better than most of ‘em.”
Simon tapped the chin of his weird, stitchy mask. “Interesting. Why are you telling me?”
“What?”
“You aren't from the Village.”
Taylor winced. “Hoped you uh, wouldn’t notice that.”
Simon just folded his arms.
“Look,” Taylor tried to explain, “my boss works for the guy who’s lookin’ for you. A friend of a friend said that one of your friends goes to the same college as her sister. Boss figured you’d be less likely to kill me if I was close enough to be dangerous but also far enough from the illegal side of things for you to find me uninteresting.”
With his arms still folded and his voice worryingly calm, Simon leaned in to ask, “Who’s your boss’ boss? What is this drug lord's name?”
“I- He, uh,” Taylor stuttered. “He... He goes by the Red Hood.”
“I need more information than that. Why does he want to talk to me? And if he’s so capable, why not just have you kidnap me? Pull a bag over my head and hand me to him?”
The idea was almost laughable. “I’m- I’m just a runner, man. I don’ know a whole lot. All I’ve been told is that Red Hood wants to talk to you and that he doesn’t seem to want a big fight.”
Simon leaned back and tapped his fingers along one of his folded arms. “If he doesn’t want a fight, then why is he sending people after me?”
“I’m a runner,” Taylor repeated desperately, raising his hands in surrender. He was keenly aware of the fact that whatever Simon Dark was, he wasn’t an ordinary human. If he wasn’t an alien or something, he was probably at the very least a meta. Taylor would not win a fight against the guy in front of him. “He’s th' capable one, not me, an'- an' I’ve barely even met the guy, man! I dunno what he wants.”
“Guess,” Simon insisted. He didn’t seem angry, which was off-putting. “You know of him. I don’t. Guess.”
Taylor swallowed and relaxed a little. “He… Take this with a grain of salt, okay? I think he wants to talk. One-on-one. If Superman's th' stuff of legend, and Batman's th' stuff of myth, you and Hood are the stuff of nightmares 'n bedtime stories in equal parts; you- you’re scary an' soothing all at once, at least to the people you protect, and Red Hood’s known for keeping his people safe. I think 'e wants to make sure you’re like him and not like the people he terrorizes.”
Simon unfolded his arms. “Okay,” he said, before stepping backwards into the shadows again. “Message received.”
Taylor stared at the empty alleyway for a long moment. “Jesus Christ.”