There's a man stood over a young girl, his hand too tight against the join of her neck and shoulder. She looks far more resigned, hopeless and scared than anything else, and she is visibly trembling.

"Please," her voice isn't entirely clear, and what she's asking for isn't either, but it obviously isn't what the man wanted to hear, because his hand tightens visibly, and his arm starts to exert pressure downwards.

As she slides pliantly down to her knees, it might become apparent that underneath her too thin shirt, she is starting to show as pregnant.

...well, fuck, not if he can help it.

He turns into the alley and approaches them.

"Hey!"

The man shoots him an irritated look. "Do you mind?!" he snarls.

The girl's gaze has skittered to the newcomer's boots, and her shaking has increased, her arms wrapping around herself.

"Yeah, I fucking mind."

He's not usually inclined to use it, but he does have the advantage of being fairly tall and visibly well-built.

He looks down at the girl and his expression changes immediately.

"How old are you, kid...?"

The man takes the hint, and leaves, looking simultaneously miffed and terrified.

The girl is silent for a moment, weighing up her options.

"How old do you want me to be, sir?" she asks. Her tone almost manages sultry, except with the fact that it's trembling, and she looks more desperate than inviting.

Oh, shit. Bad. He shakes his head.

"–no, hey, I'm not picking you up. I'm buying you lunch. Come on."

He holds out his hand.

She stares at the hand. (She can't afford to pass up a meal. She's sure he'll want paying back.) She hesitantly reaches out to takes the hand, her other hand using the wall behind her to push herself up to her feet.

"Okay," she mumbles.

Poor kid.

He ducks out of the alleyway and leads her towards a somewhat beat-up but well-maintained car.

"You okay?"

She's following pliantly, if a little unsteadily. "Yes, sir," she says simply. (It doesn't exactly seem like the truth, given the way she's curled in on herself, but she seems to think it is.) She eyes the car a little warily, but doesn't try to escape.

He looks back over his shoulder, just to make sure they weren't followed by her disgruntled customer–

Oh. Not hers, his. Guy doesn't look too happy that he walked off.

He ushers the girl quickly into the back seat and hops into the front.

She goes tense as she's ushered into the back seat, and then blinks in confusion when he doesn't follow her, but gets into the front.

She's watching him (his shoulders) more than what's going on outside, but she catches a glimpse of the man who was following them, and can't quite put the pieces together right.

He drives away as quickly as he can manage while maintaining a basic level of safety.

"...hope he doesn't spread that around."

She doesn't say anything but a confused noise escapes before she can stop it. She flinches back and presses a hand over her mouth.

He looks at her in the rear view mirror with some concern.

"It's kind of, uh, frowned-upon to run off and rescue a kid when someone just picked you up."

"You-?" she starts, surprised, then stops, flinching again. "Sorry."

Then she realises what he's just said, and her mind goes briefly blank with panic. (He's definitely going to want paying back for the lost client if he's...like her.)

"Sorry," she repeats, a little desperate. "Sorry. Didn't mean to. I-Sorry."

He wishes he could turn around without crashing the car.

"No, I swear it's okay! I'll figure it out."

He heads for the nearest place he can think of that has cheap food and isn't particularly interested in the lives of its customers.

She doesn't exactly calm down when he tells her it's okay, but she does stop talking. She wraps her arms around herself instead, rocking slightly.

(She is paying attention to where they're going, she expects to have to find her way back on her own.)

It's not long before he parks and gets out of the car to open the back.

"...uh, sorry for kind of kidnapping you. I can just take you home if you don't want to hang around."

...no. nonononono. She ran away for a reason. She wasn't going back. She shakes her head desperately.

"Please. I can-" she starts, voice shaking, and then stops. She has no idea what to offer here, but she can't go back. "I can be good?"

...oh, shit.

"Okay, no, I'm not taking you home. It's okay."

He reaches out a hand to help her out of the car.

"Let's just get you something to eat."

She relaxes, fractionally, when he says he's not taking her home. Only to flinch slightly as his hand comes towards her. When she realises it's not about to grab her or strike her, she hesitantly takes it to help her out of the car.

She keeps herself hunched in on herself, trying to be unobtrusive and a smaller target. She doesn't verbally respond, watching him without looking directly at him, waiting for him to lead. She tugs slightly at the hem of her shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric.

He leads her gently towards the restaurant.

It tears him up, looking at the way she’s acting. He recognizes what it looks like when somebody’s badly broken.

“How’d you get into this mess...?”

She continues to follow pliantly, and gives a very slight shrug. "Didn't-" she wraps one arm protectively over her stomach. "No choice."