Work Text:
Peering through the heavy rain, there is a body lying below the low bridge, and Gaby tries to figure out if it's a bad cover-up or just a death site. Because if it's the former, touching it means messing with a gang. But if it's the latter... She squints her eyes at it like the corpse could suddenly answer. It's her stomach grumbling despite the stench of moldy garbage bags that decides for her. Gaby sighs and steps out from under the wide roof, giving her a sliver of dryness to walk up to the thing that could kill her too.
This bridge is stupid anyway, standing over a 60-foot-long brick-laid canal that is closed off on both sides by abandoned factory buildings and constantly dry unless the rain pours in like now. And even then, there are rumors that people got cancer by falling into the little amounts of water. So. That's the Reaper's Bridge for you. The crumb of a rich guy's attempt at bragging, but it got ditched the moment he was bored, and now it's everyone else's problem. That actually summarizes the Eastern Alley pretty well. "The place people's dreams go to die." They should make that their slogan.
Through the aggressive thuds of the rain, Gaby can see that blood is washing away from the corpse's head, so they probably died not long ago. She pokes their head with her shoe to be sure, but the hole under the man's chin is pretty obvious, and a quick glance around has her find a gun that's fallen to the wayside. It tells the story all on its own.
Even though she's not going back home - never again - her aunt raised her to show respect to the fallen, as she hopes they'll respect her fall. Gaby tells the corpse, "You'll only have kind dreams and more food than you could imagine."
That's as good of permission as any, so Gaby immediately starts rummaging through his pockets, pulling out everything she can into her too-big coat. The purse is her lucky find, and she uses the rain to wash it a bit before she pockets it and hurries away. Pulling her hood lower over her head, she tries to go unnoticed by the other adults braving the weather that is deafening most sounds.
It's easy to go ignored when the weather is bad, everyone being far too busy looking out for themselves. Those on the streets don't want to risk the cold, and those who have a home huddle in to escape it. She would too, but living on these streets has taught her that opportunities need to be taken, even if she could catch death. Nobody would even give her a funeral; they would just bury her behind a tree or let her rot in a corner until the GCPD does its mandatory monthly patrol that they should really just dub the corpse recovery car. It's not like anyone coming to these parts isn't on someone's payroll.
After all, the Eastern Alley borders both the docks and Penguin territory, both of which house organized crime that actually care to skew paper trails to make themselves seem legit. Money talks and money pays silence, and she'd take the deal at any given time.
A group of fancy-dressed men hurry her way, cursing at the sky; all of them clearly on someone's payroll too. Gaby immediately dodges by pressing herself against the nearest building with a wet slap and tilting her head to the ground, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Lots of people walk through the Eastern Alley because it's convenient without walking into a territory that would get them gunned down without reason. And for streetkids, that means information that they can track. Those men could be Falcone, Penguin, dock traders, or even the unlikely Masks. She tracks their moves, but they don't pay her any attention. Covertly taking them in, her eyes catch a glimpse of a sleeve cuff with an emblem. Maroni.
For a few long moments she doesn't move, then exhales in relief. She pushes down a smile as she turns around and leaves, heading to the pawning shop masquerading as a bookstore.
East Alley kids know that information is the most valuable thing there is to their parts of the streets, and she is not one of those stupid enough not to have traded for the insider. Knowing who owns a building is the most basic necessity here, as it will shape who walks around it, what they trade, and how trigger-happy they are. Anything less will get them caught with people who have the money and manpower to have them disappear. Her stomach rumbles sharply.
Gaby licks her lips as she glances at the badly lit neon signs of shops that are mostly fronts and shady buildings that lead to dark alleyways, trying to decide on what to do. She thinks through the list of priorities. Shelter, warmth, water, and only then food. But shelter can come later, and warmth can be crossed out in the same vein, so water and food are a valid choice. With that in mind, Gaby changes her goal and swerves along the backstreets rather than going straight ahead, not acknowledging the shops surrounding her.
Lots of kids have disappeared by not taking the time to know where they're walking into. Fronts that either traded with traffickers or that couldn't afford to repay their debts to a gang and buy meat at the same time. Not that there hasn't been a massive crackdown on those since Red Hood showed up, for which Gaby will never not be grateful, as she is definitely one of those who are too impatient to investigate. It's probably what will get her killed one day. And wouldn't that make her the thousandth kid to die in the Eastern Alley because they didn't use their head?
Think, plan, then act. Streetkids like her don't have a security net to fall back on, not if they lack the connections needed.
And everyone knows not to trust the system. They would bring her back to her aunt, and as much as Gaby loves her and is loved in return, it isn't enough. It doesn't make up for the constant screaming, blaming her for bad grades, blaming her for not helping the household, blaming her for staying out of the house late, blaming her, blaming her, blaming her as her aunt lists mistake after mistake that she isn't even allowed to defend herself from. Maybe it isn't as tragic as some of the others she's met, maybe she's being spoiled when there wasn't even a hand raised against her, but she doesn't care.
Being in that house made her want to die.
And Gaby chose to live.
Walking into a narrow side alley, she walks into the side door with a sign above full of dents and scratches that it's almost impossible to read 'A wonderful place'. The inside is a small dimly lit bar, smelling of acidic alcohol and cigarettes, with mismatched chairs around scratched-up tables. A decorative wall made of wooden planks holds dark spots that can't be identified and holes from whatever small bugs have made themselves home in there. The woman behind the bar table sleeps on her arms, not making a single movement.
An elderly man steps out from the backdoor, then takes one glance at Gaby before kicking the woman. She groans and lifts her head to glare at him accusingly.
He scoffs and says, "Someone's comin' in, so do your job." Then he walks back, leaving her to sigh and turn her attention to Gaby.
"The fuck you want," she tiredly asks, the position revealing her name tag saying 'Nunya'.
Gaby shuts the door behind her, abruptly aware of the silence now that the sound of the rain is cut off. She walks to the counter, dripping all over the floor, and says, "A BLT and water, then a trade." She places 5 of her newly gained dollars onto the table.
Nunya sighs and takes it, then turns to a dingy fridge that looks like it's held together by sheer will. The sandwich bag and the bottle are immediately hidden under her coat before she holds out the remaining 10.
Gaby asks, "Where's Red Hood right now?"
An annoyed "ugh" is her response, then the money is pushed back to her. "Fuck off, you know the guy would kill me if I made a kid pay for that." True, but most people don't care about more than the money. She pockets it swiftly.
"The fuck is today?" Nunya mutters, "Tuesday? Yeah, Hood's supposed to visit the Red Brick Shelter this evenin'. Now scram."
Gaby doesn't bother thanking her and hurries back outside. As soon as she steps back into the side alley, the cold shivers through her, making her ruthlessly aware of just how drenched she is. She grimaces but walks along anyway. It's still afternoon, but she makes her way towards Red Hood's nearest base.
Officially, it's a homeless shelter, named after the building's unusual red brick walls, but during the days of Red Hood's brutal takeover, buying the location of his operations was far more important than going more hungry than usual.
Now she knows a lot more about the crime lord of the territory than needed, but still. It can't hurt to know that Red Hood turns into a softie whenever he holds babies.
The walk is short, and Gaby heads into the shelter like it's just an ordinary one. A wave of warmth hits her, almost too hot in contrast, and the cozy reception smells of books. She feels dirty standing like this but soldiers on.
"I wanna speak to Hood," Gaby declares boldly. Her age gives her full protection under the crime lord's roof, so she doesn't bother being scared.
The burly man apathetically looks her up and down, then tells her, "He's comin' 'round later. Wanna wait till he shows up? We've got shower stalls with locks, and there's more than enough clothes to grab a few."
If anyone else said that, Gaby would run off and spread the word. But she's been here before, knowing that this is a fully vetted space, so she gives in. She gets to pick out a few clothes from their large closet, then locks herself into a stall with a bench area to put her stuff and disappears behind the curtains under the warm water. Changing into clean clothes, her stuff in a locker that isn't worth breaking into, always makes her reconsider turning herself in. Going back to her previous life and having a permanent roof over her head. She won't, but it makes her wonder.
Walking deeper into the building, Gaby reaches the cafeteria, free food handed out by goons and staff. She forgot that she was hungry until now.
There are kids and adults scattered around the room, most sitting apart or in small groups. In the back, there is a group of seven streetkids, huddled together far too close to be from here. One of them shoves another, then takes them into a hug, betraying them as Southern Alley. Those kids are so weird, always travelling in packs like wolves. How they all trust that they won't just sell each other out is a mystery to her, so she keeps a healthy distance from them. These little beasts are feral, and messing with one always means messing with their pack. Gaby does not need that in her life.
Her eyes catch sight of a familiar pair sitting alone at a table, pushing her to head over to them.
Sophie lifts a hand in greeting. "S'uuup. Still hangin' onto the street life, I see."
Gaby takes out her sandwich, then squints her eyes. "And you're still alive."
Sophie shrugs, like she isn't the insane girl who decided to take a job from what she knew to be a shadow gang while running back to Hood after getting paid.
Pointing his finger at the girl, Kim happily chimes in, "She got shot on the job."
Her head swerves around, but Sophie already waves her off. "Barely a graze. Managed to distract the cops, though, and I got more money out of it."
"But you're tellin' Hood," Gaby notes.
Sophie winks at her with finger guns.
Gaby is unimpressed. "You'll get killed for double-crossing."
"Not if I stick to the big guy, I won't!"
It's both frustrating and fun to bicker with them, information and tips exchanged in a lighthearted way that the Alley barely gets to be for them. They aren't exactly friends, all of them would sell the others out if push came to shove, but it's the closest to it that she has. Time goes by slowly, letting her doze off until the evening comes. The cafeteria puts up a plaque with a red dot, announcing that the Red Hood has arrived.
Gaby groans, then stands up to make herself on the way. Kim raises an eyebrow. "You meetin' 'im?"
"Trade," is all she answers.
When she looks at Sophie, the girl shrugs, saying, "I'll just go after you."
With that, Gaby walks to the unofficial business hallway. There are goons pretending to be homeless people sitting on both sides of the entrance. They lazily take her in, then wave her through. She knocks on the door, then walks in when called. Red Hood's office is honestly boring for a rogue. There are chairs and folders and books around his office table, making his massive figure with the red helmet the only thing to stand out.
Gaby closes the door and says, "Here for a trade."
Red Hood sighs. "Hello, gremlin, 'am doin' good too, gremlin."
She rolls her eyes but allows a "Hello Hood." Then she jumps into the matter, "Found rivals walkin' through the territory. 50 bucks."
The price may as well be highway robbery for how many other people could give him the information.
Red Hood shifts to attention. "Close by?"
Gaby wordlessly holds her hand out. He moves his head in an obvious eye roll, then hands over the money. A short scroll through to confirm, then she tells him, "Four Maroni men walked upwards near the Reaper's Bridge. Suits, suitcases, and buttons with their emblem."
Red Hood hums. "Good job."
The transaction is completed, so Gaby moves to leave, but he stops her by standing up and asking, "D'you wanna stay here? At the shelter, I mean?"
She gives him an incredulous look.
He insists, "Look midget-" "Hey!" "-you're a great kid and got me more than enough tips to help out, but you've been gettin' skinnier every time we meet. Don't need to stay permanently, but at least you'd have food to hoard."
Gaby glares at him. "I don't trust cops."
Even through the helmet, she can feel Red Hood giving her an incredulous look. "Kid, who'd you think owns this buildin'? No-one's gonna rat anyone out, and even if they do, they'd have me to deal with them."
She doesn't trust it. The rumours of the horrors happening in homeless shelters are widespread, and she hasn't gotten this far by ignoring word on the street. But they do offer a roof when it rains, warmth when it's cold...
Gaby glares as she challenges, "I can go at any time."
"Always," he agrees seriously.
Her legs shift around as she actually considers staying for a time. She breathes out. Every single source says that Red Hood protects children, with nobody finding proof contradicting this. And the weather sucks. "I guess I'll stay for a bit."
A hand slowly lands on her head, then abruptly starts rubbing through her hair. Gaby squeaks while Red Hood laughs at her, saying, "You're good at it, but leave the broodin' to Batman, a'right?"
She glares at him and rearranges her hair as he opens the door. Red Hood groans like his perfect day just fell apart.
Gaby takes a step outside and sees Sophie grinning at the crime lord.
"Please tell me you're here for somethin' normal," The crime lord pleads.
Sophie puts her hands on her hips and smugly announces, "I got bought for a job and 'am here to rat 'em out."
Red Hood groans again and pushes the girl into his office. "Fuck! Where's your survival instincts? 'Am gonna have gray hairs soon and it'll be your fault."
Gaby watches as the door closes behind them and snickers. If bullying a crime lord is the norm, then she's going to do just fine.
Walking back to the reception to get a room, Gaby knows that she doesn't trust shelters yet, even with all of this. At the first sight of foul play, she's out. But until then, she's willing to give this place a try. And if not, then she has new information to sell to anyone who pays for it.
