It all started because Filthy Phil had to go and get himself arrested right around the time Jason was running low on, well everything. The guy was a creep, but at least he was willing to buy from Jason without the hassle of going through a middleman, he was the 'only' car dealership that would risk buying second – third, fourth, who cared – direct from a kid and he 'had' to be a moron about it.

Now with the guy on lockup, Jason was stuck, as he had been so many times, before, only this time he'd gotten himself reliant on that one source of money, and had pretty much nothing else lined up.

That was how Jason wound up in the busy subway that Wednesday morning dressed in the best clothes he owned, still scruffy, but okay enough that he looked like just another of the many scruffy kids and not another street kid. Arms shoved up to the elbow in the deep pockets of his oversized green hoody, Jason weaved through the busy rush hour crowd, his eyes scanning the surrounding faces constantly for any hint he was catching the wrong kind of attention.

Lifting spare change from a couple of prissy suits was easy enough, dangerous work for sure, and Jason had gotten a fair number of bruises from it in the past, but those weren't what he was weary of. The subways were one of many places Jason wasn't really 'allowed' to try working. He'd scoffed at the idea of being allowed to pickpocket a couple weeks after he's first struck out on his own. A shudder ran down his spine at the memory of it. The scars he'd gotten that day, Jason would carry with him for the rest of his life.

So he kept his head low, but not too low, his eyes from lingering one place too long, and his hands moving only when he was sure no eyes lingered on 'him' for more than a couple seconds. It was stressful, having to forcibly keep himself from startling at every sharp sound, every whiff of cologne that was just a little too strong, a little too much like that worn by assholes who just wanted to show off that they could. And above all, damn was it annoying.

He hated those bastards, thinking they could muscle their way in on everything and make his life even more complicated.

Eventually, he had to take a break just so he wouldn't give himself away by breaking into a freaking panic attack. He dropped onto one of the metal benches, let his tensed muscles relax a little as he tried to ignore the way his fingers itched to return to his pockets and count out the money he'd gotten so far, see if he had enough to get one of the warm cheesy sandwiches he could smell not far off. Not for a second did he relax from his study of the crowds.

A group of teenagers playing truant, standing in a corner trying not to be suspicious, the tired looking lady struggling to keep a gaggle of kids from getting too near the tracks. The pretty blonde girl anxiously chewing on her bottom lip, watching the schedule board, her sparkly pink backpack hanging off one shoulder.

She'd be late for school for sure, he thought, overcome with a little bout of petty jealousy. He missed school sometimes, a lot of the time actually. Missed math and the library and playing baseball in the old junk filled lot across the street. Missed lunch. Jason was really having a hard time not walking over to that sandwich kiosk, so he got up and marched on the opposite direction, still unable to look back at the place as yet another one traded hands, he let himself look for just a couple more seconds.

Some old guy in a suit tailored a little too well cast a fleeting glance at Jason as he walked by and dropped a whole fucking sandwich in the trash. It hadn't even been unwrapped, the wax paper still firmly in place as it sat atop an empty donut box, and the guy'd barely given it a seconds glance after he'd bought it. Jason glared at the retreating figure, his own stomach growling at the opportunity he was forced to pass up.

Normal kids didn't dig out of the trash, no matter how good the condition of the food, Jason shoved his hands back into his pockets and stomped away, promising himself that when he was older he'd get himself the biggest, most expensive sandwiches every day.

About an hour later, rush hour was past and his pockets were sagging with the cash he'd managed to swipe, he'd decided that it would be a great time to stop. Not so much because he thought he was all set so much as because the back of his neck was prickling very intently and he's caught more than one person wearing some very not-nice colors looking his way.

Jason almost reared back when he locked eyes with one very mean looking teen and turned maybe a little too fast on his heel for the station rest rooms.

Partly safely hidden in one of the stalls he finally scooped his 'earnings' out into his hands and set about counting it out. Plenty of coins that he carefully wrapped together in a piece of cling wrap he'd eaten yesterdays breakfast out of to keep from jingling. Fewer green bills that were folded carefully and stashed in various places about his person so if even if he got caught and frisked, there was a chance he'd be getting out of it with 'something' at least.

Enough if he ate only one meal a day, he could get by for at least three weeks as long as nothing bad happened. Wrinkling his nose, Jason amended it to two weeks. If the whole dumb universe could give him a little break, Phil would be out by then and Jason could sell off the stack of tires stinking up his place and be set for a couple days afterwards too.

His stomach growled and he held his knees to his chest, rested his head on them as he strained his ears to listen to the footsteps passing by his stall. He really didn't want to have to do this again too soon. As it was, he was already going to have a harder time that usual getting to sleep for weeks again. He heard a toilet flush, and water running, and then the footsteps went by him again. Jason listened carefully for any other presence having entered the bathroom, getting mugged right as he stepped out of the stall would suck.

Having heard nothing, he opened the door a crack, poked his head out to make sure he was truly alone, them with a held breath, Jason made his way out. If they were waiting for him outside, there was at least the chance of security helping him, or being able to make run for it.

He cast his eyes about the station once he was back near the trains. The prickly feeling didn't come back and Jason spotted some of the guys he'd thought he's seen watching him earlier most definitely 'not' watching him now. A couple of them were crowded together, near at one of the slightly less busy areas.

Curiosity got the better of his more cautious side and Jason let himself get a little too close when he was supposed to be moving for the an exit.

It was the blonde girl with the sparkly pink bag. She stood with her back pressed against a wall besides the tracks, her lips trembling while she tried to stare them down. In her hands, clutched to her chest was the still wax wrapped sandwich Jason had had the sense to leave in the trash.

Jason turned away. It wasn't his problem and he couldn't take the risk of get on some gang's shit list or he'd never survive to be sixteen, not after all the trouble he'd gone through to keep from getting involved with any of those scumbags. He'd made the mistake of looking back for a split second and saw that her determined face had been splashed across with terror and she was trying to melt into the walls.

Jason's feet, poised to take another step away froze; a weight having suddenly set into his bones had anchored him to his spot. Security would help her; Jason barely managed to place one shaky foot in front of the other. One of the men reached for her backpack. Passerby's turned their heads away. Jason's heart found a new home in his throat. There had to be some who'd…

They pushed her aside, grabbed hold of the backpack. No one stopped to help her, the weight grew heavier.

She screamed, the sound reaching Jason's ears clearly as if the station had been truly empty. Without another seconds thought, Jason moved. It wasn't for the exit.

One second he was heading towards the door, the next his was thrusting his arms forward, showing the guy over the railing and onto the tracks besides them. Now there were shocked gasps and 'oh my goodness's'.

Jason grabbed the girl's hands, tries to scoop up the bag as he passed, but he had to duck out of the sandwich-tossing guy's reach and was forced to abandon it. The assholes would only take so long deciding whether to help their fellow gangster or leave him behind before they came after the kids.

"Wait! No." They girl cried, one hand reaching back for the sparkly pink that had vanishes under the many feet of the crowded station.

She almost tripped when they reached the stairs and Jason tried to take them at a speed she couldn't keep up with. A sharp tug of her hand kept her knees from hiding the steps, but Jason couldn't exactly slow down now that security had gotten off their lazy asses to chase after them.

Sunlight hit his face, and Jason kept going, ran down the busy street it was hard, he'd though it would be harder, maybe impossible to duck and weave between their fellow Gothamites, but they despite the many sharp tugs on his arm they never crashed into anyone.

Only when they'd put a good two big city blocks between them and the station did Jason feel comfortable risking a glance behind his shoulder. A weight lifted off his chest the way it did when he'd gone days without a smoke and finally lit up. Then he got a look at the girls face and she looked anything 'but' relieved.

Her cheeks were flushed a bright red, but the rest of her face was drawn, pale, it looked like… It looked just like his mom after…

Jason slammed the breaks on his head as fast as he did his feet as soon as they got to the nearest alley.

She slammed her back against the wall and quickly slipped down to the ground like a puppet that got it's strings cut, gasping in a series of deep, heaving breaths. Jason leaned against the opposite wall, resting his hands on his knees. His legs were burning too, but it would be way easier to get running again under short notice if he didn't sit down fully.

"Think we lost 'em," he took in a breath to ease the burning in his own lungs, maybe giving up on smoking was something he should be considering, and poked his head out of the alley to check for any pursuers. "But we gotta keep…"

"Why did you 'do' that?!"

"Huh?" The ferocity in her voice had Jason turning back to her, getting him caught fully by the enraged glare of her bright blue eyes.

"I needed that bag, I couldn't just leave it!" She yelled again, tears now brimming against her eyelids. She got quickly to her feet and if Jason hadn't already been against the wall, he might have backed away.

"Are you for fucking real?" Jason asked, caught somewhere between mad and really confused. "You shoulda just let go, your freaking dolls aint worth your life!"

"My ticket was in there, I needed it to get away and now I'm…" She's raised a finger to shove in his face, but stepped away before she could, both hands coming up to cover her mouth as she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks in salty tracks to drip off her chin, shoulders shaking with her sobs.

The mad part of Jason slipped away as he watched, dumbfounded. This was weird, how was he supposed to deal with someone yelling one second and crying the next? His hand moved to hover over her shoulder, but didn't touch her or fear she'd get up and bite his head off.

"Hey, 're you, er…" Whatever she was, it definitely wasn't okay. He peeked out of the alley again, there was still no one he could see chasing them, but that didn't mean they were safe yet.

"I'm never getting away." She sniffled loudly and Jason's hand recoiled as if it had been stabbed. He'd seen that once, and it did 'not' look good.

"Away from what?" He asked, crouching down, but keeping otherwise as far from her as he could without moving further down the alley.

"My dad, the group home freaking sucks but he's…" Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she sobbed some more.

"You're old man got issues, huh?" Jason asked, turning his head away from her and finally dropping to sit cross-legged in front of her.

She sniffed, and he could feel her eyes on him again, but he kept his elsewhere, gripped the fabric of his pants and tried to not think too hard about his own parents. She snorted, then let out a shuddery breath along with a soft chuckle. "No, I got issues, he's a perfectly good parent with an ungrateful little bitch of kid."

"Then why's he want ya back?" Jason rested his head in his hands and leaned forwards a little.

"Doesn't like people messin' with his stuff." She brushed her sleeve over her eyes to dry up the tears, but they were quickly replaced by fresh ones. "Heard in Metropolis, you can call Superman whenever and he shows up, figured dad'd give up 'f I could get there."

"An the group home really…"

"F they had any doubts before I'm gone for sure now I stole the money for that ticket." She huffed. "Don't matter, they're assholes." She dried her eyes again and got to her feet. Jason followed suit a second later. "I don't wanna to back anyway."

"Ya know." Jason scratched at the back of his head and watched the people passing by the alley closely. "I'll bet Superman can hear ya in Gotham too, and if he can't he aint shit." He stuffed his hands into his pockets again, felt around the little of the money he'd gotten that day stashed there as he considered. Every smart part of his brain was telling him it was a bad idea; he could barely take care of him, let alone someone else. He was just getting into the rhythm of how things worked on the streets himself. It was a bad idea, a really, really bad idea, but who was to say she'd make things 'harder' anyway? She could probably carry tires as well as he could, and it'd be nice to have someone spotting to make sure the car owners didn't find him at work.

When he looked back at her, she was already starting to walk away, back towards the station. Before Jason could think about it, he'd already grabbed her hand. She turned to look at him with a confused out and a tilt of her head. Jason's throat felt impossibly dry, well, okay not impossibly seeing as how he'd just run away from that gang, but still. The gang!"

"Those guys're pro'ly still lookin' for us." He tugged gently on her sleeve. "I got a place ya can lay low till their lazy asses give up."

"A place?" Her face scrunched up, and she looked like she really wanted to say no, but her eyes kept flickering back to the station. "Your place?"

Jason nodded once, firmly and released her arm.

"What about your parents?" She pulled at the hem of her jacket.

"Don't got any." Jason chewed at him bottom lip and waited for the accusations and the know-it-all 'you're too young to be on your own', or for her to laugh and tell him to get lost. But she didn't.

"Okay." She said after a couple seconds, and Jason's eyes snapped up to meet hers in shock. "Just till they stop looking for us, right?" She leaned towards him, her brows furrowed questioningly. He nodded and he returned the gesture while thrusting out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Steph."

"Jason." He took the hand and shook it once, the way he'd seen his old man do whenever one of his 'friends' came over. "Come on, s'not too far but we already lost a lotta time here." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah." She dried her eyes one final time and started after him. "Yeah okay. Hey Jason?" She smiled weakly at him; Jason decided that he liked it.

"Yeah?"

"You really think Superman can hear us here."

"I hope not." Jason frowned at the thought, remembering vaguely something like that from a book that had been too complicated for him to ready once. Also the idea of Superman popping up out of nowhere while Jason was trying to lift some tires? Terrifying. God, how did anyone make a living in Metropolis?

If anyone came close to finding them over the next couple days, neither Jason nor Stephanie caught wind of it. She stuck around anyway and Jason found he didn't mind, especially not when the next time they ran into trouble he found that when pressed, she could serve a meaner right hook that he did.