"F*cking hell," Jason said, taking a step back. "You're just a kid."

It was late night, and he'd been on patrol, finishing up his rounds and checking for random criminal activity. These days, with the Bat gone, Gotham was even more chaotic. He and the others had been doing what they could, but as soon as word had gotten to the major criminals that the Bat was gone, their lackeys had been out in full force. Everyone had their hands so full that small-time criminals had gotten a lot bolder.

And it was a small-time criminal that he'd cornered in an alley. From a distance, it hadn't looked like a kid, but as soon as the criminal spoke, it was evident this wasn't an adult. On closer inspection, the scrawny build, torn mask and broken bottle for a weapon gave it away. The kid was dressed in old, dirty clothes and sneakers, with a face covering that didn't completely hide the wide, terrified eyes.

"What the hell, kid. I almost knocked you out," Jason said, frowning at the bottle. "Where are your parents? Why are you out this late? Are you trying to get killed?"

When the kid swung the bottle at him in an attempt to be menacing, Jason holstered his guns and lifted his hands. The kid took another swing, and Jason easily blocked it, firmly grabbing a wrist.

"I said, where are your parents? Who's supposed to be watching you?" Jason asked, not expecting an answer. He'd been this kid before. Scared and alone and doing stupid sh*t to survive. "Why are you trying to rob people in an alleyway?"

The kid was still struggling, to no avail. Jason was built like an ox and an experienced fighter, after all. And he knew a kid in need when he saw one. It was like staring at a younger version of himself, angry at the world, trying to act tough, afraid of his own shadow.

"Relax, all right? I'm gonna let you go. Don't run," he cautioned, slowly pulling his hand away. "Now talk to me. What's a kid like you doing out here in the middle of the night?"