Chapter Text
“Fuck you!”
Kenny yells, throwing his hands up. This was the fourth time he had been caught stealing this past month. At least they wouldn’t call the cops, people in this part of Gotham probably dealt with this daily. But still! He couldn’t believe they’d just kick him out!
Whatever.
He huffs and storms away from the store, dusting off his parka. It was no use, it was already filthy, the bright orange it used to be was now more of a brown, but he still liked to try and prevent it from getting dirtier.
He’s been homeless for a year now, and even though he’d never admit it, not like he had anyone other than Tony to admit to, he really misses South Park. He misses Stan and Kyle. Maybe even that asshole Cartman. His parents had taken him to Gotham a while back, he had no clue why considering Gothams reputation but they said it was their ‘big opportunity’ and maybe they’d actually be able to make money there.
They weren’t able to.
He had come home from his new school to a note on the counter, they had apologised and said they left with his siblings, to start a new life. They had left him behind.
In Gotham of all places.
God his parents were dumb.
He sighs as he enters the alley, leaning against the dirty, graffitied wall. Ugh, his back hurt from where that shopkeeper literally kicked him out. Literally! He bet he had a footprint on the back of his parka.
He had been hiding out in this alley for a while now, it was in a pretty quiet street so there was only one other person sharing it with him. Plus it was kinda good, Tony had been getting him drugs in exchange for some of Kenny’s food, and now that he wasn’t in South Park there was no Kyle to nag at him about how unhealthy it was.
He ignored that the thought made him strangely sad.
It didn’t seem like Tony was here right now anyways, probably meeting up with one of his buyers like usual. He usually didn’t get back until later on in the afternoon, and then he left again until night. Kenny’s stomach grumbled loudly and he groaned in frustration, pulling out money from his pocket. He only had 50 dollars to last him the next month, he could maybe pickpocket some later if he bought food now. He just hoped he didn’t get beat up like the last time he tried to pickpocket, he picked the wrong person to mess with.
His stomach agreed that getting food right now was a good plan.
He shoved the money back into his pocket and pushed himself off of the wall. His parka was bigger on him now that he’s not eating as often, he didn’t want to have to waste money on a belt but it seems like he’d have to if he lost anymore weight. His pants were hanging loosely off of his hips. Was this really what his parents were having to deal with to try and feed themselves and his siblings?
He felt like getting a Batburger right now. It was cheap for fast food and damn was it good, plus he could just steal the wallet of some rich ass again to make up for the money spent.
He hadn’t sat down in a while too, the seats in Batburger weren’t the comfiest but he’d take it over anything in the alleyway. All he had to sit on was a soggy blanket, a backpack and a cardboard box.
He pushes the door open, hearing the bell chime above him, god he could feel his mouth watering just from the smell of this place. It smelled greasy and delicious. He went up to the front counter, ordering the cheapest thing on the menu. It wasn’t that busy here during this time of day, most homeless people preferred to steal, and all the rich people either had too big an ego to eat somewhere so cheap or were at school or work.
Since it wasn’t all that busy the workers dressed in… ridiculous superhero costumes finished making his food fast, he grabbed the tray and walked to a booth near the back of the restaurant, sitting down with a little sigh. He felt really tired and this was the comfiest thing he had sat on in weeks. He started to eat, letting his mind drift as he did.
He thinks that the worst thing about living in Gotham though, was the crime rates! I mean, he might’ve been mildly annoyed by it if it didn’t affect him. But because of this goddamn power he has, he’s been getting killed way more often than he was in South Park!
He was getting killed even more now that he’d decided to be Mysterion again as well, it was risky and honestly way more than he had signed up for. He thought this would just be something fun like back in South Park, he wasnt expecting how dangerous it would be. Anyways, it wasn’t like he could just quit now, he had already caught the eye of a certain vigilante.
Nightwing.
Nightwing had been following him for a while, he didn’t mind at first, he didn’t want to seem suspicious or anything by running away or immediately acting aggressively.
(He was just a bit scared and intimidated by Nightwing.)
But now that he’s thinking back maybe he should have just screamed at him, because ever since he let him get away with following him, the guy has been trying to talk to him as well.
In his opinion Nightwing was an idiot, he would always try to convince Kenny that he was too young to be doing stuff like this. Nightwing didn’t even know his age. He was an asshole.
Kenny felt his stomach stretch uncomfortably, he was full and he hadn’t even eaten half of his meal. Damn, his appetite was definitely getting smaller now that he was only eating like once every two days.
He didn’t want to waste the rest of his meal, so he wrapped all the extra food in the napkins they had at the table and then struggled to shove it into his pockets.
He cringes when he sees the worker at the front counter looking at him, god he must look pathetic, saving leftovers from a place that sold meals for like $2.
Once it all finally gets into his pockets, (he’s sure half of the food is smushed up now), he sits for a little while longer. He was tempted to go to sleep but he was pretty sure he’d get kicked out so he huffed and stood up instead.
He was walking a bit awkwardly due to the food shoved down his pockets but he made it back to the alley relatively quickly. And Tony was there!
“Hey, man!”
Kenny says, undoubtedly muffled from his parka, but Tony had learnt to understand him by now.
“Hey.”
From the short reply Kenny could tell he was stoned, Tony was a massive talker, and he only got quieter when he was high. Kenny also preferred not to talk to him too much when he was like this. From first-hand experience, Tony did not have great control over his temper when he was high. And Kenny had been the victim to that anger more than a few times.
He walked past Tony and flopped down into his little spot in the corner, immediately regretting the action as stinging pain crawls up his spine. He forgot about that shopkeeper kicking him, the food had distracted him for a bit but now it was hurting.
He looks up at the sky, it was still midday but Kenny was tired. And it wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept through the day.
He falls asleep like that.