Chapter Text
When he was growing up in Gotham, nothing was truly for free. An invisible tally was always above everyone’s head keeping score who they owed and why. Small things were paid back with equal amount, small money, food, these things were not dangerous as long as you were quick.
No, things got more tricky as the price ads up. Rent overdue, loans, they bury lesser men than Bill. He liked to keep track of the tallies, some people make killings in similar ways, but knowledge is a dangerous tool as any in the alley. More times than not loose lips have been an end to a goon, and Bill couldn’t go gambling away life like he used to.
Tallies are how he got into this life in the first place, a foot in the door being a lookout for a heist. Then another, and then one for a smuggling op, and another because he “owed them”. What was supposed to be quick cash soon turned into a career of IOUs and you owe me until he was first name basis with the bats.
By the time he realized he had dug himself down too far, he had already buried himself with the dirt he threw up.
Bill was proud to say that he didn’t owe anyone nothing. He paid his dues in full and was keeping himself as far from trouble as he could as a goon.
So, when he heard the jangle of a set of keys in his boss’ hand, Bill stomach began to sink.
Hood asked for help casing a place for future endeavors, and while it was odd that Bill was chosen, Bill had been around long enough that his repertoire was a lot broader than the average thug.
The apartment was decent sized for crime alley, two Bedrooms, one bath with a living connected to a kitchen. High ceilings up front with lower ones in the private rooms and completely bare say for the bland beige walls that landlords seem to smother everything in.
“I mean this is a nice place and all boss,” Bill glanced at the ceiling again,
“But I don’t really understand what I’m doin’ here. No reason for an at home setup for drugs with the factory we got, besides anything made he will be more at risk of being contaminated. Could smuggle weapons but this is one the cleaner side, no use bringing that trouble to the populace, besides, this place is too far from any of our locations to be of use to the gang.”
“Oh, I sure there is a good enough use for this place.”
“What use is there? This place is jus’ a nice apartment man. The only use there is for this place is-“
The sound of keys clinking together stopped Bill in his tracks.
“No.”
Hood approached like he was trying to pick up a feral kitten,
“Bill-“
“Don’t you fucking dare “Bill” me mister! You and I both know this ain’t no casserole for lunch or secondhand jacket. I refuse!”
He was now in his boss’ face, you see for a goon this is one of the worst places you could be, and at that moment all he could do was think of the metaphorical price tag tying a noose round his neck.
Bill knew tallies and has seen a fair share of Bosses. He wasn’t fuckin’ stupid. How many times did he see those stupid kids with hopeful eyes go down with the ship all because of a shiny car? A nice piece of cloth? Rent for the month? A hospital bill covered?
How any lost what little life in their eye they had left, the last of their morals, for something like this?
“You need better housing Bill, winter’s going to be here for another two or three months and you got a young kid with you.”
“I can’t pay this back and you know it! I was barley scratching by as is! One month is going to send me to debt in a place like this!”
“Which is why it’s paid for, the gang takes care of it’s own.”
“I- I can’t pay this back!!”
“And you’re not expected to! This is a gift! From me to you and it’s no strings attached to it! I can afford to pay the rent; I can deal with if there’s something screwy here. All I ask of you is to pay utilities and take care of your kid!”
The ceiling must’ve caved in because it was suddenly harder to breathe.
Hood had the gall to lower his shoulders with those wretched keys in hand, like Bill wasn’t fighting his old man before he was even a sperm in his furry nutsack-
“Bill, you’ve been couch hopping for the last two weeks. Your performance is slipping, you look like your entire spine has been fused into one lump and you have a four-month-old. It ain’t sustainable.”
He didn’t place the keys in Bill’s hands.
Smart.
He would’ve defiantly thrown them like they were about to explode, but Hood held them in a up by the tips of his fingers, which was only a step down and did not help his urge to smack them away.
“You know this doesn’t make this feel any less shady, right?”
“Bill, we live in crime alley, name one thing that ain’t shady.”
“My son.”
Hood had the hindsight to at least try to hold back his snickering to a minimum as Bill tried his best to not be flustered at the slip up.
“And see? We’re making sure he stays that way. Little starlight of the alley needs a proper home with supplies and a dad that ain’t going to keel over due to his mismanagement of his body in the next week. Two birds, one stone! Plus, no mold.”
And wasn’t that the bitch of a truth?
There wasn’t much of an option was there? This was a proper place, in a decent part of the alley, with protection. Turn this down, and he’s not just going to be out of the nicest place he’s had a decent chance affording but most likely a job as well. A year ago, we would’ve cut his loses, hell a month ago he would’ve told the boss to go fuck himself if he made the same offer.
A month ago, he didn’t have Danny.
The kid who gives him a gummy smile every time he comes into view. The one who thinks peek a boo is the bee’s knees and had half of the crew losing their minds when he figured out how to roll himself over.
Fuck, Danny deserved better.
Bill still stood there for a bit more before he snatched the offending keys away from a smug crime lord.
“If this ever comes up in more than passing-“
“Granny with personally see my ass on the opposite side of the firing range, she was very keen on it.”
exhaustion made Bill roll his head back up to the ceiling, high as ever and not the slightest bit concave.
“You’ve been conspiring with Me-Mah?”
“And the rest of the lot. I wasn’t joking on us taking care of our own. Now come on, twerp is in the kitchen and rush hour will be happening soon if we don’t book it. I’ll have some people drop your stuff here tonight.”
With a last glance as they exited, the door was swung shut with the sound of the lock clicking in place.