Two o'clock in the morning and the city lay still below Jinx's listlessly swinging legs as she sat on the side of an apartment building roof. There were no early morning drivers; the only people still lingering on street corners were the prostitutes hoping to solicit a desperate passerby. On one of the fire-escapes a shadowed figure sat in a lawn chair and smoked a cigarette.
Jinx inhaled the second-hand smoke rising up in soft tendrils towards her, thinking of the lady that used to live next door to her family in the projects. Jinx had hung out on the fire-escape a lot to escape her mother's rages, and she would always see a prehistoric-looking old woman sitting at a table smoking as if it were her only pleasure in the world. It used to be kind of comforting: one constant in her turbulent life.
A man stumbled out of a bar across the street, letting a blast of Beastie Boys from inside disturb the calm as he swung the door open. His face was flushed and unshaven, and there was a stain that looked suspiciously like vomit on his shirt. Jinx watched as the prostitutes caught sight of him and straightened, something oddly predatory in their smiles.
Jinx wondered what policy the Titans had towards criminals of that nature. Did they only go after the villains in costumes? Could some of them possibly have darker sides, maybe even propositioned one in their lifetimes? She tried imagining Kid Flash slithering up to the group on the corner, tried to twist the honest smile he usually wore into one of sly pleasure. She wanted to be disgusted by him. She wanted him to be worse than she was.
The drunk man ignored the women as he walked down the street and most of them lost interest, turning back to talk amongst themselves and examine their nails. One, however, trailed after him. She was missing the usual sexy lingerie and instead wore an oversized T-shirt and some shorts; legs that looked too thin to support her meager weight tottered after him in painfully ugly high heels. Jinx couldn't hear what she was saying to the man but she sounded desperate and pathetic- probably begging for money to support her meth addiction. His response was slurred, but unmistakably crude.
"Just ten dollars," she was saying. "You can have me any way you want. Ten dollars. Barely anything."
"Fuck off, slag." The man replied articulately. "You make me fucking sick."
The girl kept after him, practically pleading. Jinx felt sick. How different were they, really? The girl lived dishonestly using her body and Jinx used her powers. They both were pathetic. Is this what Kid Flash saw when he watched Jinx attempt to steal things from others?
The man suddenly turned on the girl and swept his arm out, knocking her into the wall. It was a clumsy blow but it had obviously caught the girl off guard, and she stumbled backwards. The man struck her again with his meaty fists, bellowing obscenities into her face. He blocked any visibility of the girl with his body but her cries echoing through the empty street made it clear that he was hurting her.
Jinx felt something inside her stretching as she was pulled in two directions. This was it: was she a hero or a villain? Was she the type of person to turn away from a woman being beaten in the street or was she going to help?
It wasn't a conscious decision; Jinx was vaulting off the roof and swinging down the fire escape even as she pretended to remain indecisive. She found herself bolting across the street, ignoring the stares of the blank prostitutes and stopping directly behind the panting drunk.
If she were truly following the hero protocol Jinx supposed she should give him a warning and command him to stop, but there was only so much progress a girl could make in one night. It was time for him to know what it felt like to be picked on by someone stronger.
Magic warmed her skin and burned behind her eyes, casting a pink glow on the back of his shirt. Without hesitating she gathered it behind her fingers and sent a dozen small slices of magic at his bear-like figure. His exclamations of anger turned to ones of pain as cuts opened along his back like blooming red flowers.
Jinx danced backward a few steps as he turned unsteadily, her hands still extended. She noted with some satisfaction the disbelief in his eyes as he saw her's glow.
"Go ahead," she challenged. "Try to swing at me. The next hex I'll throw at you is going for your throat."
He twisted to stare at the new blood stains on his shirt, and then back at her with shock and fear. "How did you…you're crazy," he said, backing away clumsily. "You're fucking crazy."
"You bet I am." Jinx snapped. She made a sudden move forward as if she were going to attack him again, and he turned and broke out into a run. She watched, unsmiling, as he stumbled over his own feet and disappeared around a corner.
When it occurred to Jinx that the girl was still pressed against the wall, she turned to face her. Blackish-red blood clotted at her nose and stood in stark contrast with her sickly complexion. She looked up at Jinx with frightened, swollen eyes.
"Are you a witch?" She whispered. Her voice was edged in pain.
Jinx smiled cynically. Not much thanks in this hero business. "Don't ask stupid questions. There's no such thing as witches."
Jinx's rudeness seemed to ease her fears somewhat. She looked down at her feet briefly, reaching a trembling hand up to probe the mess on her face. "Are you going to put me in jail?"
Jinx pressed her lips together, thinking. Was she supposed to? Were these the kind of ethical dilemmas Kid Flash and the other Titans had to face on a regular basis? Maybe she really wasn't cut out for this.
"No." She finally said. "What you do for a living is your business." From one criminal to another, she added silently.
Jinx lingered for a moment before turning and heading back to her rooftop; she had some things she needed to think about. As she scaled the building again she glanced across the street to see the girl pick herself up, still sniffling, and walked unsteadily back to the group. They all ignored her; there was a pecking order, even among prostitutes, and desperation apparently rated very low in that order.
Am I the prostitute? She wondered. Am I going to limp back to the tower with my tail between my legs, go back to stealing and pretend I never met Flash?
But it was two o'clock in the morning, and there was no one to answer her.