"Oh shit." Well, he liked to think that was the relevant response to meeting a Rathaway. It wasn't ever day he met the richest kid in Central City and hell, he probably ranked up there on the who's who of rich people all over this country. He blinked for a moment as he took in how important this just got. Did he just witness the richest people in Central City get their heads blown off. Paco swallowed hard and debated running.
He didn't, he wasn't sure why but he didn't. Instead, he decided to play this a different way. "My name is Cisco." It wasn't an entire lie anyway. "Good to meet you, Hart. Sorry about the parents but I really didn't see nothing."
Hart offered his hand and stepped closer. "I believe you, Cisco. But if you did see anything, I'm sure..." No, he didn't like doing this. But he had to, didn't he? "I'm sure I can make it worth your while."
No, he was never getting used to this. But if this could help solve his parents' murder, it would have to be worth any price.
The money was pretty tempting actually. Just imagine what a kid like this could give him if he really milked it. He knew it was dangerous but oh man. He could get enough money out of this one to get a place for him and Dante to live. He could even afford new clothes and food. If he asked for enough, anyway. He knew it was a stupid move but he just like the idea of easy money. With a smirk, he cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow.
"Well. How much have you got? What are they worth to you?"
"Anything, Cisco." In the face of the boy's smirk, Hart's face was solemn. He knew what he needed to do. "They are my parents, they are worth everything."
He might have said more, but a familiar voice cut through the air. "Hart!"
Hart whipped around, eyes wide once more while a man walked past the policemen and ended up kneeling in front of him, a hand on his shoulder. "Holding up?"
He nodded, suddenly finding himself unable to speak. When Leonard actually pulled him into a hug he was in complete shock, but fell into it after a tense moment, the tears suddenly a lot harder to hold back again.
"Who's your friend?" Leonard's eyes were narrowed at Paco already and Hart was still fighting for control over his voice.
Oh shit. The opportunity to scam money lived and died in that moment and Paco, in the face of this guy, knew he was running low on options. He stared at them for a long moment before his nerve died. "I saw nothing. You're crazy, rich boy. I didn't see nothing!"
And like that, Paco took off running into the road, narrowly missing a truck and only just making it to the other side, disappearing up a fire escape to get away before this dude turned on him.
He saw the gun on his belt, he was taking no chances.
"Oh." He probably should have seen that coming and it was also the moment Hart broke down and started crying. It was like a glimmer of hope leaving and reality sunk in. His parents were dead. He clung to Leonard and Leonard ran his hand down his back, which was so strange he couldn't even compute.
"Have you talked to the officers yet, Hart?"
When he shook his head, Leonard muttered something about incompetent idiots and stood up, looking around. Finally one of the detectives acknowledged their existence and then there they were, Hart answering question with the unsettling seriousness the boy so often displayed, before calmly thanking the detective and asking to be kept informed.
"Thank you, Leonard. I'd like to go home now."
"Whatever you say, sir. Come on, Mick's in the car."
"Mr. Rory?"
"Whatever." Leonard kept a hand on his shoulder as he led him past the policemen to the car. They were lucky the press wasn't here yet. He looked around to make sure nobody was following them before letting Hart into the car and, after a moment more, climbing in next to him. "You told the cops the truth, Hart?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?"
"What do I know? Didn't expect to walk in on you making friends with some little punk, did I?"
As Leonard approached with the kid, Mick was outside of his car with his arms crossed, parked up on the curb and half into the road, blocking off the half of the road to stop that fucker who beeped at him coming through. Oh yeah, no one beeps at him. As they approached, he looked at Hartley, all sad with blood on his hand, just knowing it was going to be a fucked up night. It didn't take a genius to work out what happened.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to his new young boss.
"Clean your hands up, kid. Then you can have a cookie." Yes, he brought cookies. Not entirely by accident but hell, it could never hurt to have cookies. Case in point. He looked at Leonard and raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
"I'm fine, thank you." But Hart took the handkerchief anyway to be polite, even though the blood was a little too dry by now to actually be able to wipe off easily. He looked down the street, seeing a lot of traffic backed up. "Can we keep this out of the news?"
"Doubt it, sir. I'll see what I can do to limit things." No, Leonard didn't usually go calling him 'sir', but Hart was suddenly their boss, without anyone else above it, and he didn't really help the kid by pretending that he had less power than he did. "Just get in the car, we'll get going."
Hart nodded and got inside, closing the door behind himself, while Leonard looked at Mick. "Rathaways got shot. Both of them. Muggers losing their nerves, from the sound of it. Kid wants to believe there's more to it."
"Ah fuck." Well. That seemed like the best reaction to have at this point. Even so, he caught himself a moment later and turned around to give Hartley an apologetic look. "Sorry, boss." He never was supposed to swear around the little master, he always got lectures about that. He leaned over and popped the glove box open, pulling out a bag of cookies and tossing them towards their charge.
Whether or not he had the stomach to eat them, they might make him feel better. Mick reverse back into the street and turned around in one swift move, taking off down the street and taking the usual shortcut, hoping the avoid the traffic.
"So you don't think it's anything more than a nervous mugger who got trigger happy?"
"Nah. Ain't nothing more than that." Actually, Leonard believed that it was more, but he didn't need to put that idea into Hart's head. He was already looking entirely too thoughtful, not that that was anything new. But at least he didn't say anything now, which might be bad or good. "No idea what's going through your mind, Hart, but I'm telling you. This happens. Your parents aren't helped by you falling for conspiracy theories some street kid's telling you about."
"His names's Cisco." Hart just muttered the words, holding the bag of cookies as he stared out the window. How could he find that boy again?
"There are a lot of street kids about these days, you know? The whole city is a dumpster fire these days. They want your money, kid. He probably knows nothing." Mick didn't trust anyone. Ever since the war, this place had been the pits, it hadn't ever really recovered and the only people invested in the city were the Rathaways and Wells. And neither gave a shit about the street kids or the homeless. Why would they?
"Did you give him your name? Never give your name, kid. The Rathaway name is gonna invite conmen and liars. And that's what that kid was." He saw a vulnerable rich kid and he made his move.
"I'm not going to lie about who I am." He wouldn't lie about anything, as long as he could help it. He wouldn't hide. He was a Rathaway, now he was the Rathaway. Hiding couldn't be the answer. There had to be answers out there and he'd find them. "He told me he saw something before he knew who I was. He had no reason to lie."
"Yeah? I don't give a damn when he started lying, you sure ain't gonna give some punk money to tell a fancier lie." Leonard realised the words might be too harsh and so he reached out to put a hand on Hart's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hart. Sometimes there's no reason why bad things happen."
Hart lowered his head. "What's going to happen now?" His voice finally sounded like a child's and Leonard found out that he hated that even more.
"We'll handle it. Don't worry." But at least Hart was crying now.
Mick was sure that given there was no one else to take care of the kid and they were probably going to have to pull their shit together and handle it if they wanted to keep their jobs. Leonard ran security and Mick took care of pretty much everything else these days besides the tiny kid and gardening so honestly, he wasn't shocked this was going to fall on them.
As they pulled up outside, Mick turned off the engine and sighed. "Boss, you're gonna be just fine. Don't worry about it."
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He didn't, he wasn't sure why but he didn't. Instead, he decided to play this a different way. "My name is Cisco." It wasn't an entire lie anyway. "Good to meet you, Hart. Sorry about the parents but I really didn't see nothing."
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No, he was never getting used to this. But if this could help solve his parents' murder, it would have to be worth any price.
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"Well. How much have you got? What are they worth to you?"
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He might have said more, but a familiar voice cut through the air. "Hart!"
Hart whipped around, eyes wide once more while a man walked past the policemen and ended up kneeling in front of him, a hand on his shoulder. "Holding up?"
He nodded, suddenly finding himself unable to speak. When Leonard actually pulled him into a hug he was in complete shock, but fell into it after a tense moment, the tears suddenly a lot harder to hold back again.
"Who's your friend?" Leonard's eyes were narrowed at Paco already and Hart was still fighting for control over his voice.
"He saw it. He saw who did it."
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And like that, Paco took off running into the road, narrowly missing a truck and only just making it to the other side, disappearing up a fire escape to get away before this dude turned on him.
He saw the gun on his belt, he was taking no chances.
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"Have you talked to the officers yet, Hart?"
When he shook his head, Leonard muttered something about incompetent idiots and stood up, looking around. Finally one of the detectives acknowledged their existence and then there they were, Hart answering question with the unsettling seriousness the boy so often displayed, before calmly thanking the detective and asking to be kept informed.
"Thank you, Leonard. I'd like to go home now."
"Whatever you say, sir. Come on, Mick's in the car."
"Mr. Rory?"
"Whatever." Leonard kept a hand on his shoulder as he led him past the policemen to the car. They were lucky the press wasn't here yet. He looked around to make sure nobody was following them before letting Hart into the car and, after a moment more, climbing in next to him. "You told the cops the truth, Hart?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?"
"What do I know? Didn't expect to walk in on you making friends with some little punk, did I?"
"His name is Cisco."
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He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to his new young boss.
"Clean your hands up, kid. Then you can have a cookie." Yes, he brought cookies. Not entirely by accident but hell, it could never hurt to have cookies. Case in point. He looked at Leonard and raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
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"Doubt it, sir. I'll see what I can do to limit things." No, Leonard didn't usually go calling him 'sir', but Hart was suddenly their boss, without anyone else above it, and he didn't really help the kid by pretending that he had less power than he did. "Just get in the car, we'll get going."
Hart nodded and got inside, closing the door behind himself, while Leonard looked at Mick. "Rathaways got shot. Both of them. Muggers losing their nerves, from the sound of it. Kid wants to believe there's more to it."
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Whether or not he had the stomach to eat them, they might make him feel better. Mick reverse back into the street and turned around in one swift move, taking off down the street and taking the usual shortcut, hoping the avoid the traffic.
"So you don't think it's anything more than a nervous mugger who got trigger happy?"
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"His names's Cisco." Hart just muttered the words, holding the bag of cookies as he stared out the window. How could he find that boy again?
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"Did you give him your name? Never give your name, kid. The Rathaway name is gonna invite conmen and liars. And that's what that kid was." He saw a vulnerable rich kid and he made his move.
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"Yeah? I don't give a damn when he started lying, you sure ain't gonna give some punk money to tell a fancier lie." Leonard realised the words might be too harsh and so he reached out to put a hand on Hart's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hart. Sometimes there's no reason why bad things happen."
Hart lowered his head. "What's going to happen now?" His voice finally sounded like a child's and Leonard found out that he hated that even more.
"We'll handle it. Don't worry." But at least Hart was crying now.
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Mick was sure that given there was no one else to take care of the kid and they were probably going to have to pull their shit together and handle it if they wanted to keep their jobs. Leonard ran security and Mick took care of pretty much everything else these days besides the tiny kid and gardening so honestly, he wasn't shocked this was going to fall on them.
As they pulled up outside, Mick turned off the engine and sighed. "Boss, you're gonna be just fine. Don't worry about it."