Chapter Text
"I thought you didn't let the gangs use kids," Red Robin said by way of greeting.
"I don't," Hood growled out, suspicious on where this was going. He didn't bother turning to look at the other. The nights were getting colder and he wanted to be sure the working girls were warm enough. They'd never tell him, so it was easier to watch them for a bit. Judge if he needed to step in.
Tim made a sound that wasn't quite a disbelieving snort, "you expect me to believe you just haven't noticed, then?"
"Out with it before I shoot you, Replacement."
"Falcone has some new runners," the other told him.
Jason snorted at that, "Falcone goes through runners like Harley goes through hammers. Besides, he knows better than to mess with my turf."
"That's probably why he's been sending the new runners in to talk with the gangs," Red told him, walking over to get a view of the street Hood had been watching.
"Why am I not surprised Falcone is trying to start shit. Fine, I'll deal with his runners."
"Hood," Red Robin said seriously, "that might not be a good idea."
The uneasy feeling from before was back, "how young are we talking?"
"I haven't seen them," Tim admitted, "Nightwing and Robin overheard some of Falcone's men talking about them, though. Demon Brat was… upset."
Hood let out a curse. If little D was upset, that put them at preteen or younger. None of them liked it when kids got involved, but with Damian it was a touchy subject. It forced the kid to face just what a shit childhood he'd had, and he got very stabby over the idea of other kids going through that. "We sure he's been sending them into Crime Alley?"
"That's what it sounded like, but it could be a new thing," Red Robin shrugged.
"I'll keep an eye out," he promised, knowing full well that there wasn't a lot he could do if they didn't want help. Especially if they weren't from the Alley.
Tim nodded, "I'll let Wing know."
"Yeah yeah, now get out of here. We've both got work to do," Jason snipped, deciding he probably should bring the girls something hot to drink at the very least. His brother was gone before he could turn around.
