Why Is It Never Simple

He stopped to look over himself in the mirror. His hair was still dripping and he had a couple bruises littering his face. Tommy also took note of the small scrape at the bottom left side of his jaw. He definitely looked like he'd gotten into another fight. His family was definitely going to be worried about that, he might even get a scolding from his dad about fighting. He was not looking forward to that tonight.

He sighed as he approached the door. Slowly turning the knob and pushing it open. Whatever he was expecting to find at eight something at night, it wasn't this. In front of him sat his brother in a wooden dining chair, with a few drops of blood on his yellow sweater, holding a handful of tissues to his nose. His father stood in front of him, ice pack in hand, black wings bristled from worry. They only seemed to stand up more as the older man looked over Tommy.

"What the hell happened to you?"

-Or-

The SBI are a fully functional family, all secretly working in different Superpower Factions.