I don't own the Teen Titans

Jinx ran down the ally, up the fire escape, across the roof, into the next abandoned building, down three flights of stairs, past seven rooms, and finally ended in her home.

If you could call it that. It was an abandoned hotel-ish building, and this had been the only room with a working radiator. She'd dragged all the decent mattresses up to this room, stuck all their stuffing in one queen mattress, then filled the leftover room with soft things she'd found laying around. The results were surprisingly comfortable. She'd also found a bouncy, stuffed couch in rather good condition in the basement, amd she'd dragged it up five flights of stairs over the course of two days to get it in there. She'd found a working television that showed all the important channels (cartoons, news, lifetime, ect.), and a friend had given her a wonderful refrigerator that was always full, and she'd acquired a fast laptop. Why couldn't you call this fabulous place home?

Because this wasn't where she lived. Not even close.

Try an abandoned store in the bad part of town next to the train tracks, no radiator, pathetic TV with only the stupid news channel that she stole, no fridge, no soft couch, no nice mattress, nothing.

Just a lumpy pull-out couch she'd stolen from some garage sale across town. Not even a table. She was using bricks.

It was all Kid Flash's fault. Really, it was. If he'd just let her get away with some priceless artifact, she'd have the perfect room. Or, at least, she wouldn't go to bed starving each night. Just the thought made her stomach growl. Time to russel up some grub. Literally.

She turned from her room, ran down the short flight of stairs in the two-story abandoned resturant, and burst into the sun.

Only to run smack into Jose's back.

She stumbled backwards, and before she gained her balance Jose had her pinned to the wall.

"Where're you going, girlie?" his words slurred together, and she smelled the alcohol on his breath.

Jose was this big, burly kid who ran with the wrong crowd. Jinx often went easy on him when she beat him up, never once used her powers on him. After all, he and she were pretty much the same. They were kicked out of their homes, got picked up by the bad guys, and made a mess of their life.

Just the typical teenagers of New York.

She banged his head in the wall hard enough to knock him out. Then she turned to the other members of his posse that she'd never bothered to learn the names of.

There were only five, and they were huddeling around this kid who was scared shitless. They were all glass-eyed and walking all over the place, so apparently Jose wasn't the only idiot today. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were going to do.

Jinx carried around a crowbar that she was fond of using, and she pulled it out now. One of the fifteen year olds apparently wasn't drunk enough to forget what usually followed the pulling out of the crowbar and ran. The others weren't so lucky.

They're gonna feel this in the morning, Jinx thought as she rammed one in the head. Another came at her with raised fists, but, after a kneeing in the nuts and a crowbar swung at the back of his head, he didn't come at her again.

Two down. Two to go.

The biggest one out of all of them, fat-wise, lumbered over to her before tripping, rolling a couple yards away, and banging his head against the long metal rods that layed nearby. Well. That was easy.

Big Mister Leader looked scared. She took a menacing step in his direction. He bolted. Good riddance. She looked at the kid.

And he was a kid. About three years old, big, bright blue eyes, and flamming orange hair that stood in spikes. He was wearing a very dirty Superman shirt and even filthier jeans. He looked malnourished, which was probably because he was. All and all, a male version of Jinx when she was his age.

He. Was. A-Dor-A-Ble. Why anyone would abandon him was beyond-

The boys hand suddenly shot out, and a root jumped from the ground and wrapped inself around her waist. She was hoisted into the air, still holding on to her crowbar.

Oh. Because he was different.

Like her.