The streets were crowded, which was normal in New York—it was automatic to get used to the noise of traffic, shops and people, Hughie was never paying attention to much of anything, until he saw you running across the middle of the avenue. You almost got hit by one of those cars, it worried him, but you didn't seem affected at all, not when there were some men running after you.

He didn't know why, but he followed the confusion with quick steps, as if he had grasped something that other people hadn't. Stopping in front of an alley, his curious eyes went towards some cursing and noises. A man threatening you, saying that you had stolen something and the other was ready to beat you.

Hughie was desperate, he couldn't let that happen—and he didn't. Did he almost get beaten up? Yes, but he stopped things from escalating, a little bit of heated conversation and he knew you had stolen something, a package of cookies, to be exact. It wasn't your first robbery at the same grocery store, that was the supposed reason for the reaction of those brutes.

As much as the men didn't want to let you go, Hughie convinced them—paying what you stole and lying that he would take you to "the police to deal with". You tried to run away when you heard this, but he held you by the wrist until the men left you alone. He wouldn't hurt you, that was certain by the look of pity and empathy on his face.

That's how he spent a few days watching you in an abandoned building. Secretly leaving you food and water, some coats too, until he worked up the courage to actually talk to you. Tough as hell, but he found a way and before you knew it, he was already convincing you to stay in his old house—which had been empty since his father moved out for security reasons.

He visited you every day—in secret, Butcher couldn't know for now that he was taking care of a teen from the Red River Institute. Asking about your day, how you were feeling and if you needed anything, he wanted to be a big brother to you, the kind he always wanted to have.