The Normal Life Of The Other Demon

Who?

Demetria's P.O.V.:

"Hey, guy—Ah!—Ow!—Stop—Help!"

The moment Dick had taken a seat in the passenger seat, Damian had grabbed the crowbar and put it around his neck. He had pulled the crowbar, putting enough force to pin Dick up against the chair while also keeping him alive. As Dick is pinned by Damian, I raise the wooden bat in my hands, and swing down, the bat breaking in half on the first swing. Even though the bat had broken, I continued to beat Dick with the broken bat.

"Get him, Princess! Beat him up! Wait. My bat!"

"Jason!—Ah!—Stop—Encouraging—Her!" Dick yells, between smacks. He grabs the broken bat in my hand, opens the car door, and throws it out of the vehicle. Throwing it out, he quickly reclines the chair, smacking Damian down, and forcing him to loosen his grip. As Damian's grip loosens, Dick grabs the crowbar and throws that out of the vehicle too.

"My crowbar!" Jason yells. "Why'd you throw them out?!"

"Why'd you give those two weapons?!" Dick retorts, putting his seat back to it's original position. "They're dangerous enough with just their fists!" He then turns his body towards us as Damian and I quietly switch back to our original seats. "And why did you attack me?!"

"Your presence is a pesterance in our lives," Damian answers.

"That's not true. Right, Demetria?" he asks, looking straight at me.

I glare at him. "My head still hurts from your whining."

"Hey, Dick. Are you gonna get my shit or not?" Jason interrupts, pointing at the broken bat and crowbar, sitting on the sidewalk.

Staring at the objects, Dick huffs out and begins to climb out of the car.

"I suggest that we leave now, while we still can," Damian whispers, once Dick has left the car.

"For once, I agree with you, kid," Jason says, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"But wouldn't he just keep calling and pestering us until we take him?" I ask, thinking about the events from earlier.

Damian and Jason sigh. "You're right," they mutter.

Dick comes back with half of a bat and the rusty crowbar. Taking a seat and closing the door, he throws the two objects into the back seat. He bends down, reaching onto the floor in front of him, pulling out the top half of the bat and throwing it over to me and Damian. "Okay. I got your stupid toys. Now let's do some bonding!"

"Yes, because that went so well last time," Damian comments, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

"If your definition of bonding is playing hide-and-seek with crazy ex's and leaving us to try and clean up the mess, then I want nothing to do with it," I add.

"That's the majority of Dick's bonding sessions," Jason says.

"Aw come on! Let's go somewhere fun!" Dick says. "How about we go somewhere that you two would like?" he suggests. "What did you two do for fun back at the compound?"

"Kill," we answer.

Dick stays silent. His lips turning to a straight line. "Anything that doesn't indulge in the spilling of people's blood?"

"Training—wait, that also led to killing," I tell him. I pause thinking of something, but to no avail, I fail to think of one. "Nope."

"Well, is there anything that you two like?"

I look down at the ground. "Food," I answer, staring at the spilled food.

"Oh yeah. I forgot that it was there. Do you two mind throwing them out? There's a garbage can in front of the police department," Jason says.