Red Hood and The Syphon

Chapter 8

Rory Regan was a good man. Kind and compassionate where most of Gotham's citizens were cold and mistrusting. He had helped at the Martha Wayne soup kitchen when Beth was a child. Even as an adult, when it was raining up a storm and Beth looked like a drowned sewer rat, Rory invited her into his home and offered her dinner. The Ragman was quite a good cook, his kosher meals always feeling like a home Beth had never had. 

"You're not stirring up trouble, are you kid?" he asked, cleaning up their plates from the table, "No offence but you look a little worse for wear." 

"I'm fine," Beth lied, knowing the ache in the back of her neck had been bothering her for days, "just, you know— hittin' a dry spell on the whole work thing." 

"You live in the desert in that department Beth," Rory chuckled, returning from the sink and clasping a hand on her shoulder. 

The side of his finger brushed her neck as he gave a friendly squeeze and Beth felt the ice cold soul magic seep into her skin. It sank deep and melded with her bones, even from a brief touch. It was why she was there. He was a good, honest man and she was using him like a dealer. Rory would never have let her in if he knew. 

"That rain sure isn't giving in," he said, peering out his window as Beth stood from her chair, "you sure you don't wanna wait a little longer?" 

"The rain's never gonna let up," Beth smiled softly as they both approached the front door, "best to get home as fast as I can." 

"Okay," Rory sighed, giving up on his gentle nudges to get her to open up, "keep yourself safe, please." 

"I will," Beth accepted his open arms and leaned her cheek against the side of his neck, "thanks for dinner Rory." 

The soul magic washed over her, a burning cold that seemed to cure all her ailments. It was a relaxing feeling. One that made her want to sleep. 

"It's okay," Rory said, rubbing a hand over her back as she melted into him. He pulled back and grasped both of her shoulders with his hands. "You get to stepping now, don't catch a cold out there." 

"See you around Rory," Beth waved as she stepped through the open door, feeling the sway starting to affect her step. 

She walked fast. Beth didn't want him to see her all spaced out, Rory would have just dragged her back in the house and questioned her until she told him what was wrong. 
The magic was deep in her bones after a block, clouding her head and making her feel warm while her body shivered after two. Her clothes were soaked through but it was like she couldn't feel them. She was so tired. 

Limbs feeling like metal pipes, Beth sat down on the ground. She tucked herself into the mouth of an alley, out of sight and out of the worst of the rain. Her head rolled back against the brick wall of a building, even her thoughts felt incoherent, never forming properly as they flew through her mind. 

Every time Beth had been forced to sleep on the street, she thought that it would be the night she died. It was the risk. You can't protect yourself while you sleep, but everyone has to rest. It wasn't a Gotham thing, it was a human thing. 

"Hey."

Cold leather touched her face and Beth's eyelids fluttered open.

"The hell is the matter with you?" Catwoman scolded, pressing her hands against Beth's cheeks and making her face the thief. "You'll catch your death out here." 

Her whole body was covered in a black cat suit. Beth knew it was fur-lined, curtesy of her close personal friend Batman, so Selina wasn't cold. The little ears on top of her head made a little silhouette against a streetlight and Beth chuckled.