The School Life of The Other Demon

Burn

Oliver Queen's P.O.V.:

I sit at the bottom of the steps in the living room, hunched over, rubbing my face with my hands in frustration. I groan loudly, not knowing what to do. Running my hands down my face, I look up to see Barry pacing back and forth. He goes back and forth using his superspeed, quick, small steps.

"Can you stay still, Barry?!" Roy exclaims from one of the couches. He leans on one of the many arms, crossing his arms and glaring at the blonde-haired speedster.

"Stay still?!" Barry exclaims. He comes to a quick halt, staring wide-eyed at Roy. "How can I stay still at this point in time?!"

"I know. I know," Roy says, trying to calm Barry down. "I'm upset about my car too. But we can't let that get to our heads."

"Roy," I call, pushing myself up from the bottom step. I walk over to the two males. "Your car is the least of our worries right now."

"Easy for you to say!" Roy exclaims. "I bought that car with my own money! Not everyone can be a billionaire!"

"I'll buy you a new car," I propose.

"You better," he scowls at me.

"That is if you help us get the little demon brat."

"Little demon brat? You mean Damian?"

"No. Demetria."

"Oh," Roy says in realization. "The angel-demon brat."

"She is not an angel," I argue, pointing a finger at him to prove my point.

"You're just saying that because she proved that you suck at Poker," Roy says in retaliation.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Guys," Barry says, interrupting us. He takes a step between us, putting a hand on each of our chests and pushing us away. "As much as I would love to hear you two argue about who's right," he says, looking at us with a calm expression. "We still have a fuckin ten-year-old girl with extremely scary, protective males in her family, driving around Gotham City with no adult supervision! And you want to argue about who sucks at Poker?!"

"You're just mad that you lost before me," I mutter.

"That's not what matters right now!" Barry exclaims. He sighs, rubbing his temples. "Look, we need to find the kid before she gets herself hurt. Even if a single scratch lands on her, we're dead."

"As they'd actually hurt you if there's a small scratch on her," Roy says, rolling his eyes.

We turn our gaze towards him, glaring at him. "They would and will."

"Her twin even threatened to bury us six feet underground!" I exclaim. "Isn't that good enough to scare you?"

"It's not aimed at me," Roy says with a smirk. "So I think I'm fine."

"Can you at least help us," I whine. "She did just steal your car."

"But you proposed to buy me a car," he points out.

"If you help us," I remind him.

The smirk on his face drops. "Oh yeah. Fine. But it has to be a car of my choice."

"Okay," Barry says. "Now that we have Roy helping us, how are we going to find Demetria?"

"Does she have a phone?" Roy asks.