The Normal Life Of The Other Demon

Just the Same

Demetria's P.O.V.:

"In. Now," Father barks out.

Slowly one by one, we all enter the manor as Father takes a step into the side. First enters a nervous Dick, then an unamused Damian, and then a limping Jason.

"Jason," Father calls out, stopping all of us in our tracks. "What's wrong with you and your car?" He looks at Jason's behind, to see the darker color of the pants around his butt.

"Uh," Jason says, not wanting to tell Father how they had to break open the car and run over a bunch of people in order to escape. "Pass." With that, Jason quickly limps away from Father. Before he could make it any farther, Father takes three steps into Jason's direction and grabs him by the collar. Stopping Jason in his tracks, Father drags his finger along his butt, and raises it to his face. He stares at his now red, damp finger, cocking his eyebrow. 

"Ah, I see that the young masters have returned," Alfred says out loud. He stops in his tracks, staring questioningly at Father. "I see that you have a cut on your finger, Master Bruce."

"It's not mine," Father says.

"Jason's ass is bleeding," Dick says out loud.

"And it hurts," Jason adds. "A lot."

Alfred stares at Jason with a cocked eyebrow. "Well, I do hope that you had used protection, Master Jason."

Dick begins to laugh as Jason turns red from embarrassment. "I didn't have sex! I sat on glass!"

"Of course, sir. But was that before, during, or after the action?" Alfred says as he walks up to Jason, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"None of the above!"

"Now, now, Master Jason. Let's get you patched up, shall we?" Alfred helps a mumbling, embarrassed Jason, up the stairs onto the second floor and into the hallway on the right.

Dick continues to laugh as they leave from our sight, but immediately stops when he makes eye contact with Father. His eyes widen in fear and he cough to cover up his laughs. "Sorry," he whispers, looking away.

"All of you," Father demands, "in my office."

The three of us walk past the stairs, into a hallway, walking straight until we have reached an oak door on our left. Opening the door, we find a traditional home office. One where everything is dark oak wood, colored office. A desk sits near the left side of the office, in front of two bookcases. The bookcases held books, binders, trophies, and even some picture frames. When entering, straight across the door is a huge portrait of a man and woman.

"It's about time you guys came."

Breaking my attention away from the portrait, I find a teenage boy on the couch, set against the right side of the room, in between two armchairs, directly opposite from the desk. "Who's that?" The boy, sitting on the couch stares at me, his eyes, analyzing me.

"Someone you shouldn't associate yourself with," Damian says, pushing me behind him.

"From what I can see, I'm one of the least dangerous people here," the boy says standing up and glaring down at Damian. "and you're definitely not on that list."

I stare at the boy, trying to figure out who he is. I feel like I've seen him before. Just then, I snap my fingers, remembering. "You're the boy who held me down as Dick injected me with the antidote."

His glaring contest with Damian ends as he switches his attention to me. "Yeah, that was me. Sorry about your ribs though. I made them worse."

"It's fine," I say waving it off, "you wouldn't have known."