Red X climbed in through the window, the playful and selfish mask he put on every night immediately fading. The window closed easily behind him as he put the bag of money on his neat bed. Even though the door was closed and locked, he could still hear the tears of his little sister as she cried, just as she did every night. Her voice shook as she pleaded for her mother, and all Red X could do was take off his suit and turn his I-pod as high as it could go, blocking off her screams. His father would be calling his name soon, and it would be his turn.

Even though the music was so loud his ears could feel each pulse, he was very much aware when there was a knock on his door. The light, raspy sound made his body quiver; once, twice, a third time. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Tonight was no different than most nights, but he could still feel fear as it clutched his heart, tears already threatening to stream down his face. He snatched the money, opening the door for his sister, quickly directing her to his bed, tucking her in his blue covers. Cuts littered whatever was visible, and he could already see bruises and swelling, but he let her sleep.

"Alex!" His father called. Red X cringed, because he hated that name. He liked the way it sounded, but he hated the man who had chosen that name, and he hated facing who Alex really was. Alex wasn't that confident, witty, skilled person Red X the Anti-hero was. Alex was just Alex, a boy who couldn't even take care of his own sister because he was too weak. Alex was Alex, and there was nothing he could do about that.

"ALEX!" His father sounded furious, and Red X-- Alex-- realized he was glued to the ground, fear paralyzing him.

Somehow, he managed to croak out, "Coming," before he forced his legs to move. He passed the kitchen, where his mother stood, eyes wide with fear. She was frozen stiff, and Alex knew that she would help if she could, but her body's instinct telling her to stay put was too strong, and she watched him walk by just as she did every night.

When Alex entered the living room, everything seemed dark, even though no lights were turned off. His father stood there, and though he knew it was only his mind, he seemed bigger, stronger, scarier than before. Alex handed him the money, and his father quickly threw it aside.

With shaking fingers, Alex took his shirt off, knowing what to expect. Every button seemed to take so long, and Alex only wished it could last longer than it really would. His muscles were fine from years of forced training, but they were pale and they shook violently under his father's harsh glare. Alex cursed the Boy wonder for having such a harsh fighting style, because if it weren't for him, Alex wouldn't have to suffer the consequences.

A light touch to the top of his spine made him shiver, and his father's fingers traced his back, leading to a spot a few inches above his waist line. Alex couldn't see it, but he knew there must have been a bright, fresh bruise against his white skin, right where his father was starting to press down. The pain was dull, hardly there, but Alex had to bite his lip to keep from squealing. 

"How did you get this?" He asked. His voice was soft, like velvet. Despite that, Alex still had to fight tears.

"I got hit," Alex answered.

His father pressed down harder, and the pain intensified. "By who?"

It took a while for Alex to answer. His mouth opened several times, but no sound came out, just a small choke. "Their leader."

"Robin?" His father pushed him lightly, his hot breath on Alex's ear, "He did this to you?"

"Yes." Alex's eyes were squeezed shut, and he tried to keep his voice steady, but it shook. He could feel water on his cheeks, and he knew tears had escaped his eyes, and more continued to follow. Before he realized what he was doing, he added, "But he's trained, too."

And that was the wrong thing to say.

In a flash, his back was pressed against the rough blue bricks of his living room, one of his father's arms pressed tightly against his neck, the other squeezing his arm. "He's trained too?" His father said, and the arm pressed against his neck harder. Alex gasped. "Did I ask if he was trained?"

"No," Alex choked.

"Than why are you saying that!?!" His father yelled. Alex's airway was being closed off, and every breath was becoming a struggle. "I don't care how well he's trained, I trained you better! You child!" And he let go of Alex's neck, but he  pulled Alex to the floor. Alex's arm screamed with pain at the sudden force, and his back ripped on the bricks, but he just gasped. He sat on the floor, holding himself in a sitting position with a shaking hand, and his father kicked him. "You stupid!" Another kick, "Ignorant!" Another, "Kid!" And he stopped, letting Alex breath for a moment.

Alex couldn't breath, though. He felt as if his father was still choking him, his lungs burning with lack of air. His father knelt next to Alex, and tangled his hand in his son's blond hair. He pulled, forcing Alex to look up from the ground.

Alex wanted to be brave, and he constantly repeated: I am Red X, I am Red X, I am The Red X... None of it worked. Because he may have the training, but his father had the knowledge. Alex was ignorant. Alex was a child. He was just a kid. Nothing could change that.

"I've fed you," his father breathed deeply. He traced a light hand down Alex's arm. "Kept a roof over your head. I taught you... trained you, and you dare tell me," and another hash yank caused more tears to spill down Alex's face, "that you let a Batman Wanna-be hurt you!?!"

"P--please, Dad..." Alex pleaded. "Sto--op..."

Alex wasn't sure why he pleaded. It just made his father angrier, his face flushing red as he growled. Alex could feel his father pulling his hair as he spit, "Get up." Alex did as he was told, his legs barely holding the weight it was born to carry. He could only pray that he could catch himself every time his knees buckled, and that he could stay silent as he did so.

"Sam!" His father called. Alex's mind took a while to process the words, but he shook hid head as soon as he did. "SAM!"

"No!" Alex went to grab his father, but he easily slapped him away. Alex help his throbbing hand as he said, "Dad, no," and, "Please, you can't do this!"

But Alex had to watch anyway as his father roughly took his sister as soon as she stood in the doorway, her mind still half asleep. He tied her to the couch, her small body to week to fight the bonds. When his father finished the knot, she finally woke up, looking at Alex with fear-stricken eyes. "Alex?"

Through the pain, Alex straightened his back. He tried to be strong. To be brave.

"It's alright, Sam." Alex bit his lip, hearing the lie come from his own teeth. His father grabbed him, throwing him into the middle if the room. Alex still continued, "It'll be fine."

He really did.

"She'll watch you first," His father said. His lips were wet, a crooked smile on his face. "She'll watch as I beat you into the scum you are. You understand? I'll show her who you really are. Weak. Stupid. Not a Hero. A criminal. Nothing better than the lowest of this city. Definitely not better than me."

I am Red X.