Chapter 1
X flashed into existence, on top of a dilapidated and abandoned warehouse. His mouth curled into a smile behind his mask, as he pocketed the nearly priceless diamond necklace he had taken from the Jump City Antiquities Museum. The necklace would be too hot for the black market, but he had a private investor in mind for the sale.
Chuckling as he remembered the look on Boy Blunder's face, when he had seen who the thief was, X settled himself down on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling down into oblivion, the other pulled up to his chest. His cape stirred in the slight breeze that drifted in off the water. These docks, had long ago been abandoned by the city, and the area around them had gradually degraded until it had earned the reputation for being the worst part of town. The only types of people who frequented the area, were ones X wanted no business with; they were a whole different breed of criminal – the type who stole little girls from the park because they wanted a new 'pet'.
Pushing himself to his feet, X sighed. He came here after heists, because he knew there would be no cops in the area, and none of the other residents would dream of contacting the Teen Titans. About to leave, X paused as he saw two girls come tearing out of the alley beside the building. Barefoot and dressed in clothing, which left little to the imagination, they were tripping over themselves in their haste to get away. One slowed momentarily to look over her shoulder, towards the alley but the other grabbed her arm and jerked her roughly further away. Even from this distance, X could see the fear written plainly on their faces. Their movements were quick with adrenaline but as they raced away into the darkness X could tell that sooner or later, the exhaustion which fear was holding at bay would take a hold. Shaking his head at the girl's folly for being in this part of town, he was about to leave when a muffled cry followed by undeniabley male laughter reached his ears.
Despite himself, X dropped silently down the side of the building, as he neared the ground, he more easily caught the conversation that was happening in the alley.
"Come on now girly, don't be like that – all we want is to have a little fun. No need to get antsy." The man's voice was mocking, filled with lewd promises, and undisguised desire.
"And I told you gentlemen, that the kind of fun you're offering I'm not interested in. Besides," There was pause – X assumed for dramatic affect, "What you ugly buggers have got, I would not want to see, given the choice." The female voice rang out clear and cutting in the night. Scorn was evident in every word, though X noted there was an undercurrent of weariness and slight pain to the voice.
"Well now chickie, you're assuming you've got a say in the matter – what's say we take that choice away?"
X stiffened at hearing the words, knowing what they implied. Moments later, the night air was filled with the sounds of fists hitting flesh, interspersed with occasional whimpers of pain and the sickening noise of a blade sliding home. Reaching for his utility belt, he grabbed a variety of weapons. As he palmed them, part of him wondered why he was getting involved in a fight that was not his. But at the same time, he knew what would happen to the girl if he just left. Rounding the corner, he took a moment to assess the situation before launching his 'x's at three of the men. The girl he saw was fighting tooth and nail again the two that held her, but her strength was quickly failing under their blows, and both of them were built like linebackers. Two more flicks of his wrist, and the last two men went down – knocked unconscious by the electricity now working its way through their bodies. Walking over to the fallen men, he stopped only to check they still had a pulse. Straightening, he got his first good look at the girl he had saved.
She was a mess. Matted, dirty hair hung around her face. Her jeans were ripped and torn, covered in stains of god knows what, the shirt she was wearing – a man's flannel work shirt which was far too large – hung around her thin frame, falling off one shoulder. Blood was blossoming under her fingers where they were pressed to her side, seeping through the cloth to stain her skin. A cut on her shoulder oozed sluggishly and as she raised her head, X saw she had a similar cut on her cheek.
She pushed herself off the wall, managing to take one step before her legs gave way beneath her. Without thinking, X caught her before she hit the floor. The moment he touched her, a soft golden light surrounded them. X felt warm, gentle power flow through him. His breath hissed through his lips as he felt bruises (courtesy of the Teen Titans) flourish, fade, and die - the healing of weeks taking only a matter of seconds. Eyes the colour of liquid gold met his and a mouth half covered in blood, opened to speak. But before the words had even partially formed, the golden eyes rolled, lids closing and the girl he held fell forward in a dead faint.
Looking at the unconscious girl in his arms, X frowned. He was not a hero; he did not go around saving people. Nevertheless, he was not a killer either. If he left her here, she would be killed or worse. There were too many people in this neighbourhood, all too willing to take advantage of an unconscious girl. Sighing X scooped the lifeless body into his arms. If it had not been for the fact that he could see her shallow breathing, he would have thought she was already dead. Standing, he was surprised by how little she weighed – at her height, she should have weighed more. Holding her to his body with one arm, he pressed his teleportation device and disappeared from sight.
As the sunlight filtered through the curtains, the sleeping girl on the bed shifted slightly. Without opening her eyes, she became fully alert the moment consciousness returned. Instantly, she realised several things: the first was that she was asleep in a bed, and something about the scent of the sheets told her it was a man's, the second was that she was clean, and the third was that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Still feigning sleep, she lay still listening for any sound, which would indicate another's presence. Satisfied that no one was in the immediate vicinity, she slowly opened her eyes. Pushing herself up on one elbow, she scoured the room for her clothes. Gone. And not a single wardrobe in sight. Swearing mentally with language that would make a soldier blush, she swung her legs out of the bed.
Standing took more effort than she would have thought possible and for a moment, the room swam in streams of light and colour. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her body – tucking it in, so it hung like a towel. The satin sheets felt luxuriously soft against her skin and for a moment, she revelled in the feel of them. Forcing herself over to the door, she pressed her ear against it. She heard nothing, but it was possible that the wood of the door was too thick for sound to penetrate. Casting her mind back over the events of the previous night, she winced. She wanted to get out of here, before her 'rescuer' asked her to repay his kindness – if he hadn't done so on his own already. Crossing her fingers, the teenage girl eased to door open, and slipped out into the hall. Turning, she closed the door softly behind her.
"Going somewhere?"
Golden eyes went wide, and a pale and slender body whipped round to face the voice. X watched in amusement, as clad in nothing but his sheet, the girl he had rescued dropped into a defensive stance. If he had not been a fighter himself, he would not have recognised it for what it was – to anyone else her posture would probably have seemed seductive (no doubt that was her intent). Most men would have been too distracted at that point, to consider that the young woman in front of them was getting ready to kick their ass.
Still refusing to relax her stance, the girl before him eyed him wearily. Now that she was not covered in layers of grime, she did not look half as fragile as she had last night. Waves of tawny hair cascaded down past her shoulders, framing her face. Her skin was pale but it lacked the sickly hue it had held in the ally. If you had simply looked at her face, you would think she was healthy, but her collarbone stood out against her skin and the muscles in her arms corded in a sickly way. Looking at her again, X saw the fine tremor that was building in her limbs. No doubt standing was using up energy she could not afford to spare. As if to confirm this suspicion, she bit her lip, sweat beginning to appear on her forehead – she was fighting to stay upright. He had to end this, or he would end up with her unconscious again.
"Do you want some clothes?" The question seemed to take the girl by surprise, straightening from her defensive stance she nodded once, clutching the sheet more tightly around her thin frame.
Reaching over to the small, hall table beside him, X picked up the clothes he had acquired for her and handed them over. She took them hesitantly, as if expecting him to grab her the moment she reached for them. Once they were safely in her possession, she relaxed, only to stagger as her world spun. Reflexively X put out a hand to stop her fall, and silently guided her back to the bedroom. Sitting her on the bed, he placed the clothes beside her.
"Get dressed slowly. If you rush you'll faint." Standing he looked at the creature huddled on his bed. What was he doing? Mentally shaking his head, he turned and left the room. Heading towards the kitchen, he gathered everything he would need to make a decent cup of coffee. He stood there watching the dark, bitter liquid drip into the pot thinking over the last 24 hours.
Senses honed over years of practice told him someone else was in the room, a second before one of his larger kitchen knives found its way to his throat. X stood still. He had re-donned the suit before going to check on his guest – he didn't want her to see his face, and wearing the mask with civilian clothes seemed even more ridiculous than wearing the suit indoors – so he figured he had some protection. Thing was, he had never tested the suit's armour against a knife blade at close range. He was contemplating various attack plans, when he felt the blade slide from his neck, and the warm presence at his back move away. He turned, to see the girl holding the knife loosely in her hand. She looked at him for a long time, before sighing and placing the knife on the kitchen counter.
"How did I get clean?"
The question took the thief by surprise but he answered all the same. "Shower." He said simply. The look he received in return said clearly that the young woman before him wanted more of an answer. "The shower has a seat ledge in it. All I had to do was prop you up and let the water do the rest." Seeing the nearly scandalised expression on her face he felt the urge to defend himself. "What? I wasn't about to let you sleep in my bed like that." Almost unconsciously, the girl folded her arms over her chest and sank in on herself, doing as much as possible to hide her body, "I didn't look." He said, turning back towards the coffee maker. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't – whilst most red-blooded males would have quite enjoyed being in a shower with a naked member of the opposite sex the thought had not occurred to him. It was not her body he was interested in, it was her scars. He said as much.
To his surprise, the girl smirked and gave him an innocent look. "What scars?" Raising the hem of the tank top she wore, she displayed smooth, unmarred skin, devoid of the spider's web of scars that had lacerated her abdomen and back, the night before.
X stared. The girl snorted. "In case you hadn't figured it out by now, I can heal injuries in other's and myself. Normally I wouldn't even scar, but –" she broke off, looking out of the window of his high-rise apartment. "What do you want?" her voice sounded tired, and held the tone of someone who has asked the same question a thousand times, and never yet heard an answer she likes.
X studied her for a moment, if it had been anyone else, he would have given a flippant, sarcastic reply. But something told him, that to this girl, this question held more meaning than it did to anyone else. He knew what she was asking, and he was not about to torment her by leaving her guessing as to his intentions. "Nothing."
Her head whipped round from the window to look at him. Her eyes studied his masked face as if searching for a sign. Within seconds though, the hope that had blossomed there, was over powered by suspicion and her face grew dark, "Everyone wants something. How do you want to be repaid?"
X looked at her. Her face was set, giving away none of the emotion, which had begun to permeate her voice. Shaking his head slightly, he settled his weight against the counter at his back. "If I wanted anything, it would be cash. But since you're obviously not in a position to be giving away money – we'll call it quits." Even as he heard himself say the words, he thought how unlike him it sounded. Usually he would demand payment for a service rendered – milk it for everything it was worth. But he did not really want her method of payment.
"I can get the money."
"How?" One look told him everything he needed to know. "You're a prostitute." The girl's face twitched slightly as he said the words and he winced behind the mask. He had not meant to sound so accusatory.
She nodded once, before sliding up onto one of the barstools, which stood in his kitchen. "Yes. But not in the way you mean."
"Oh?"
"You imply that I sell my body for sex. I don't. I sell my body for pain."
"Come again?" X's eyebrows rose behind his mask. He had heard of such practices, but he thought they were just rumours. Of course he knew BDSM existed, and that, that crowd could get a little twisted but something in the way she said the word, made X think that 'pain' to her, held a more significant meaning.
The girl hunched over, using a finger to trace designs in the marble worktop. "Sex is not the only thing people are willing to pay for. Drugs, alcohol, a relatively innocent good time – but all these things come pretty cheap. Anyone can afford to buy them – and even if you go top rate they're still affordable to most. But there are some men and women who will pay vast sums of money to put people into excruciating pain. The more damage you can take the more valuable you are. I get paid quite well for letting people torture me for hours. Because of my," she paused searching for the word, "abilities I can take far more damage than most. Plus, at the end of it there isn't even a scar and people normally pay more to be the ones to leave the first mark." Her voice was calm and pleasant – as though she were discussing the latest weather report rather than the fact that she let people torture her on a regular basis.
Crossing his arms over his chest, X spoke. "If it pays so well, how come you look like you haven't eaten in weeks?"
The girl flinched slightly, hunching down her shoulders before straightening. "Who says I keep the money?" She looked up, locking her gaze with the two white voids which passed for eyes in X's mask. "Look. The streets may be rough, and my form of employment may be less than desirable but at least I am old enough to survive. There are kids out there barely six years old. They can't fend for themselves. The money I make ensures that at least they won't starve. I can heal their sickness and injuries so all they have to worry about is finding something to eat and a place to sleep. I figure that if I can just keep them fed, maybe they wont turn to drugs or selling themselves. They are just children – they deserve more than what they've been given." Her voice was strong and clear and the golden light of her eyes was infused with determination, but behind that lay sadness. "I'll never be able to save them all. But they're just kids." There was a note of pleading to her voice when she said the last and a lone tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently.
"How old are you?" X asked. She spoke of the other beings kids, but she couldn't be that old herself.
"17." Shit. She was still just a kid. Something in his stance must have shifted to let her know what he was thinking because she smiled sadly at him. "I'm the oldest in the trade around here."
His eyes went wide behind the mask. "The two girls I worked with last night. One had just turned 14. The other was probably a few months older." She sighed heavily and stood. "Speaking of work, I have to go. The more I work, the more I get paid. And I don't want the younger ones taking my clients."
"Surely they need the money too." He didn't quite make it a question. Sure she may seem like a good Samaritan – but everyone was the same, and just like everyone else, he was betting she was greedy.
She shook her head, scowling, wrapping her arms around her body. "You don't understand. I have handpicked my clients to be the ones I know have little to no self-control. If I was anyone else, what they have done over the years would have killed me every time. The other's don't heal as quickly as I do – if they took those clients, they would die." Her hands clenched into fists, "I will not have their blood on my hands." She hissed the last words as him, her eyes narrowed into slits.
So maybe greedy was not the right word. With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her heel and marched out into the hall. She paused in the doorway looking left then right searching for the front door. Spotting it at the end of the hallway, she made to leave, only to be stopped by a gloved hand on her bicep.
Golden eyes, glared up at him. She was tall X noticed probably about 5'9" but he topped her by a good few inches. Releasing her arm, he settled his weight against the doorjamb. "You're not in a fit state to go anywhere: you're shaking, you're pupils are dilated. One more serious injury and your body may not be able to heal it." He wondered briefly, why he was so intent on stopping a stranger hurt herself. He should just let her go, so she was not his problem anymore. Who cared if she got herself killed? But she's trying to save kids' lives. A voice in his head whispered.
Facing him, she propped her hands on her hips. "Look if my clients are going to be there, I have to be there. And nothing short of a visit from the police and the Teen Titans is going to keep them away. And the police don't bother themselves with our part of the city."
Behind his mask, Red X smiled. "But I bet I can get the Teen Titans to pay a visit."