This was practically an all time high for you. And an all time low for Dick. You had spotted the hero known as Nightwing walking into the alley you spend your nights in as a street kid. Then, when he was turned away talking to someone on his communicator, you had managed to sneak up on him and somehow grab his wallet. For a superhero, he should probably be more perceptive. Or he should stop leaving his wallet in such an easily accessible place. Before he could even process what was happening, you were out of the alley and sprinting away from him.

Unfortunately for you, he had years of training under his belt. He caught up with you fairly quickly and cornered you into another alley, crossing his arms and staring down at you. He was more intimidating now, the shadows obscuring his features, though you could see the scowl on his face as he towered over you. He seemed to be about to fight you, but he relaxed slightly after taking in your age. Damn, what was a kid doing out this late?

"That's my wallet, kid." He held his hand out with a frustrated sigh, "And I need it back."

A strange part of him wanted to talk to you, to ask where your parents were, to make sure you were okay. Maybe it was the fact that he had witnessed too many kids on the street, maybe you just reminded him a bit of Jason. Whatever it was, he shook the feeling away. He was supposed to be on patrol, and you were holding him up.