(Damian, Earth)
“Damian, help me with this tie, would you?” Damian groaned and covered his head with his blankets as Desmond’s voice drifted into his dreams. Damian rolled over, turning away from him as he slammed open the bedroom door. “Damian! What are you still doing asleep?” Desmond grabbed his shoulder and turned him over to face him.
Damian glared at his older brother through half closed eyes, “Because I don’t have work for another…”He glanced at my alarm clock on the small bedside table, “three hours.”
“Yes but I have an interview in 45 minutes.” He shot back, ripping the blankets off Damian and the bed.
“And what does that have to do with me?” Damian whined, sitting up and squinting at him.
“Because I need you to help me with my tie.”
Damian stretched and stood with a yawn, swiping the plain red tie out of his outstretched hand. “Fine, Where’re my glasses?” He asked, scratching the back of his head. Desmond bent over and picked them up off the bedside table and placed them on his face. “Thanks.” Damian yawned again putting the tie around his neck. As he started to tie it he asked, “Where’s the guitar shaped one I got you for your birthday last month?”
“I can’t wear a guitar tie to an interview.” He laughed and Damian bit his lip, tightening the tie around his neck. “There’s breakfast for you on the table.” Desmond stated in his do-as-I-say voice.
Damian tucked the tie into his suit jacket, “I’m going back to bed.”
“Not until you take your pills.”
“I’ll take ’em when I wake up.” Damian fell backwards onto his bed not even bothering to take off his black-rimmed glasses.
“No you won’t, you’ll conveniently ‘forget.'” Desmond huffed, grabbing his wrist and trying to drag him to his feet.
Damian pulled his hand out if his grip and rolled onto his side. “They don’t work.” he muttered into the blue cotton sheet.
“Yes they do.” Desmond hooked his arm around Damian’s waist and flipped him onto the floor. “You’re too light. You need to eat more too.”
Damian glared at him from the floor through his crooked glasses.”Sleep’s important too, you know.” He grabbed the edge of his mattress and pulled himself back up onto the bed. Desmond grabbed the back of his Zelda T-shirt and yanked him off the bed again. “Des, stop! You’re gonna stretch it out! Valerie gave me this shirt!”
“If you don’t want it stretched out then come to the kitchen of your own volition.” He said, though he let me go.
On my knees beside the bed, Damian buried his face in the mattress and let out a long, loud groan. When he ran out of breath he pushed himself to his feet. Desmond stepped over to open his bedroom door and gestured for him to exit ahead of him. Damian trudged across the white carpet, sticking his tongue out at him as he passed.
“Volition, huh? Practicing fancy words for your interview?”
“Yeah so I can get a job to pay for all your shit.” He retorted, flicking him in the back of the head. “Now take your pills. I even laid them all out nice and pretty with a glass of water.”
Damian grimaced at the spread of small pills in front of him, then picked one up, popped it in his mouth, and chased it down with a swig of water. “Your sleeve came undone.” Damian remarked after swallowing the second pill.
He glanced down at his sleeve and sighed. “Fix it for me, why don’t you?” He asked, walking towards him and turning his right shoulder towards him.
Damian swallowed the rest of the pills in one gulp, then grabbed the empty sleeve and rolled it back up, clipping it in place. “Alright there you go, now get your ass to that interview.”
He checked his watch, then leaned against the kitchen island with a smirk. “I got the time to make sure you eat the breakfast I made you.”
“Busybody.” Damian muttered, stabbing his fork into the scrambled eggs laid out on the small kitchen island.
“You’ll be okay walking to work on your own, right?” He asked, watching the fork and smiling as it made it into Damian’s mouth.
“I took my pills, didn’t I?” Damian took another bite.
“No need for attitude.” He reached across the island to flick his forehead, then pushed away from the counter. “Alright, I’m heading out. Have a good day.”
“Would be better if I got more sleep.” Damian grumbled around his fourth bite of eggs.
After Desmond shut the apartment door behind him, Damian picked up his plate and moved to the living room. HE bit a sausage link in half while turning on the T.V. with his toe.
-“The Claw then disappeared without a trace, once again leading the people to question the police’s competence.”
Damian flopped down on the couch, then changed the channel with the remote… Three times. Looking for a good news channel that was not reporting on The Claw. He hesitated on a channel that had a blurry picture of The Claw before switching off the T.V. and finishing his breakfast in silence.
