Jason sighed, his breath a smoky wisp as he glared around, scowling at the murky alleyway around them, disgusted. He looked down at his little brother, Tim, curled up and sleeping, leaned up against him and wrapped in his coat. Jason didn't mind; he had a long sleeve shirt and Tim's shirt was short-sleeved in the middle of winter. The last thing Jason need was for Tim to go hypothermic and die becuase he can't afford a hospital.
Jay sighed again, kissing his brother's messy, greasy black hair absently as he rubbed his arm in an effort to be warmer. He would never be so affectionate when Tim was wake or anyone was watching of course, but here and now, he could be mushy without fear of Tim rasing that damn eyebrow of his.
If he closed his eyes, he could hear his kid brother's breathing, and even his heartrate. He could hear screaming and crashes from upstairs in the building he was leaning on. But then, he heard a sound that was not part of the night, part of Crime Alley. Or maybe it was; he simply wasn't used to it. As far as he was concerned, the sound as alien, it stood out far more than any sirens or guns or fist fight or screaming ever could.
Someone was laughing. He craned his neck in time to see a sleek black car with pristine, fine, expensive tires roll past; though he didn't see the source of the happy sound that stuck like a sore thumb, he could guees now.. The Batmoblie. Heh. Bird boy, Robin. Forget him. Tires. Blackmarket. Money. Food and shelter.
He nudged Tim (who groaned, not happy with the prospect of waking up) and smirked to himself. Once they stopped, taking those tires was gonna be like taking candy from a baby.