Blüdhaven never really slept. The city breathed in shallow, uneven gasps—too loud, too restless, too desperate to be anything but broken. The sirens in the distance never fully faded, and the stink of saltwater and gasoline clung to the air like rot.

Dick knew every crack in these streets by now, every corner that tried to swallow people whole. Still, he hated this part of town most—the place where the desperate were sold, where survival cost more than anyone could afford.

His lead had brought him here tonight. Not to a warehouse or a known gang hangout, but to a street corner lit by a sputtering sodium lamp. The girl leaning against the bricks looked too young for this life. About his age, maybe a little younger, but her eyes carried the hollow wariness of someone older—someone who had learned, the hard way, that nothing came without strings attached.

She noticed him right away. Of course she did. Her shoulders stiffened, chin ducking as if she’d been caught doing something wrong, even though she hadn’t moved. Timid, like a cornered cat waiting to see if he’d strike.

Dick slowed his steps deliberately, reminding himself not to move like Nightwing. He wasn’t here to scare her into silence. His arms stayed loose at his sides, palms open, his voice kept low and steady.

“Easy,” he said, fighting the urge to glance over his shoulder for shadows. “I’m not here to hassle you.”

Her gaze flicked over him, fast, assessing in a way that made him uneasy. She probably thought he was another cop. Or worse. And truth be told, he wasn’t great at this part—the talking, the convincing. He could face a room full of mobsters without blinking, but asking a girl who looked his age for information on a street corner? It felt wrong. Personal.

He swallowed, forcing his tone even. “I just need information. About a guy who’s been working this block—tall, scar on his cheek. Name’s Kade. You’ve seen him?”

For a moment, nothing. Just the buzz of the dying streetlight and the shuffle of her boots against the pavement. She pulled her jacket tighter, biting her lip, eyes darting toward the alley like she was calculating whether to bolt.

Dick felt the weight of his own hesitation. She was scared, and part of him hated himself for putting her in this position. But he needed answers, and Kade was too dangerous to let vanish back into the dark.

The silence stretched until finally she shifted, her voice slipping out in a whisper so faint he almost missed it:

“…Depends who’s asking.”