this might be the scariest thing ever What do you mean captain marvel's eyes r just gonna. follow you around
and the cut out eyes ..,,, dude imagine if this was like in universe and you could just see billys eyes poking through like this is just some weird skin suit. my god
he is the most peculiar thing to exist ever I need to study this guy
you know the idea that. Captain Marvel is just whatever Billy thinks of him as. with no set identifying features or traits. this turns Captain Marvel gay. hear me out. Billy hears someone shout ‘gay’ as a pejorative, but he doesn’t know what it means… but what better way to find out than asking for help at the library?
Some Gay Librarian: *trying very hard to explain in a way that’s accurate instead of going straight for the insulting usages*
Billy: Interesting. And this could be anyone?
Librarian: Yeah. The traditional estimate is ten percent of people, but that covers a wide range of identities, and there are a lot of different guesses floating around. So it’s a lot of people.
Billy: You mean… you wouldn’t necessarily know.
Librarian: That’s true. Gay people can look and act all sorts of different ways. And straight people too! Unless someone wants to tell you, you can’t know for sure either way.
Billy: So… even if you knew someone really well… maybe this might be something you still didn’t know anyway.
Librarian: Definitely. But you shouldn’t go around asking people, because it could make them uncomfortable, or even be dangerous.
Billy: So Captain Marvel might be gay.
Librarian, who has seen Captain Marvel around a lot, and never once had any impression that he had a sexuality: What? I guess so?
Billy, rubbing his chin: Now, I don’t know why I wouldn’t know that, but then. Maybe I wouldn’t know!
Librarian that Billy has forgotten is there: Why would you know?
Billy: Maybe he doesn’t know himself!
Librarian: What is going on.
Billy, suddenly realizing he’s talking to another person: Say, if Captain Marvel was gay, and he wanted to say so, that might set a great example for kids everywhere, wouldn’t it!
Librarian: I?? Guess so???
Billy: Maybe he should come out, like you said!
Librarian: Where is this even coming from?
Billy: Oh, I heard some kids saying he was gay. I don’t know how they’d know. But I can ask if that’s something he’d like to do!
Librarian: Kiddo, please leave Captain Marvel alone. I have no idea what those kids meant, but it probably wasn’t very nice, and I doubt it’s something a superhero wants to have an involved conversation about.
Billy: No, no, I think Captain Marvel should be gay now!
Librarian, later, watching a press conference: Huh.
he's just SUCH an interesting concept for a side character just to appear in one issue. like? Hello? he can only see into the future when he's making body contact with billy? because he was born on the same date and in the same hospital as billy?? but he didn't stay pure of heart like billy so the wizard never did choose him as the champion
they're like. connected by the wizards magic in such an odd way and it's so funky. the boy who stayed pure hearted and the man who didn't 🤔🤔🤔🤔 he got to grow up but billy couldnt 🤔🤔🤔
plus i just LOVE this scene in particular. it's so sweet
it's so cute and aww aww aww
also ignore the fact that captain marvel is getting fined for property damage that doesn't matter :/
honestly though fawcett city genuinely has an array of the most oddest of side characters ever it's amazing
in fawcett, before captain marvel arrived, there were an overwhelming amount of missing person cases in the area. especially in the slums of it all. but, after captain marvel showed up, everything suddenly became better because of the guy!
suddenly, children that were ripped away from their parents were able to meet them again, and spouses were able to reunite with their significant others. street rats that were trafficked, and were wronged in every possible way, were able to keep on living, due to his help. every cold case in fawcett finally had an answer, all because of the big red cheese!
which begs the question, if captain marvel took so much time and care to find these missing people, why hadn't he found william "billy" joseph batson yet?
the kid went missing a few weeks after captain marvel was introduced to the public, but there were no signs of cm even acknowledging the kid. if it had been the same as it was before, no one would have known about the homeless boy. but it wasn't. and it was so. so odd.
all cases that captain marvel took upon himself to complete had always ended with some sort of ending, yet billys case was the only one left cold.
even when captain marvel moved on and had taken up two sidekicks, people were still bubbling with questions. because honestly, who just spends all of their time playing hero? why was cm so insistent on ignoring that specific case? was he even human?
it never seemed like captain marvel ever took any breaks off. ever since the 1940's, he's always been seen helping the city, or earth- or intergalactic worlds. how could anyone have that much motivation to go on for that long? why did mary marvel always insist that cm needed to take a break? that cmjr and her had it covered, and to just rest for one day?
it was concerning, and not helping his case at all.
even some jl members were concerned- superman and batman most of all. some of it came from curiosity regarding the cases, and most came from concern for their fellow teammate. even then, that conversation was quickly shut down.
who knows, maybe one day captain marvel will get tired. maybe one day he starts missing how it was before, knowing that thought was stupid. after all, being an abandoned, starving, freezing child in the winter was worse than being some superpowered demigod. even if his stomach still left empty despite how much he ate. how he could never properly sleep. he knew no one would mourn billy batson, and he knew how heavy this job as the champion of magic could be.
so he stepped up. he decided that billy wasnt needed. he decided that, even if he couldnt sleep at night, he could still make himself useful. since, yknow, theres no shortage of problems anywhere in the world, he could help. day and night, non-stop. the sort of repetition that he would be tired of if not for the people in captain marvels life. he decided that he didn't need to say the magic word, unless something dire ever happened.
but, its been so long. did he even remember what he even looked like at this point?
how long has he forgotten his own face?
how long has he forgotten the adrenaline, the emotions, the thrill of living?
how long has he forgotten the times he spent huddled under an alleyways garbage can, with only the clothes on his back to warm him up? how long had he forgotten the times he spent with others that actually looked out for him? the actual him?
but. whats the use of feeling mortal again, when the only thing you should be doing is protecting others? to put yourself before anyone else? to help and inspire?
For a very long time, he kept on going. Smiling to the crowd. Living for the people, for there was nothing left inside, other than that. Him being a hero. Being a savior. Being liked and watched by so many. But never loved and seen. But it was enough. He wasn't doing that for love and praise, he was not even doing it for himself. He was driven by one purpose : helping other people. And isn't that the most beautiful purpose you could be driven by.
He had sidekicks, yes. He was fond of them, but even though he shared blood with one of them, he didn't really know them. They didn't know him either. But it was ok. It was enough. He wouldn't be broken, if they decided to leave. He could keep on going, and not feel any sort of hurting.
He hadn't eaten or drank in years, because he did not need to. He missed it sometimes, but then he reminded himself, wisely, of the life he had, before he was this hero, a protector of men, before he was granted the qualities of many gods. A child, with nothing and no one. He was strong without needing to consume anything. It was enough.
He had the god, speaking to him. Their voices had gone quiet, over time. Or maybe he did not care to listen. He had the wisdom and strengths. He did not need anyone to talk to. His own self was enough.
Sometimes, he worked with the Justice League, to stop some of the greatest menace of his time. They were colleagues. Some tried to be friends. But like every other person before, he pushed them away. Because he didn't want to hurt, when they eventually abandoned him. Working with them was enough.
Soon, he found himself lonely, at the top, equal only to the strongests of this world. He watched. Protected. Filled his duties at the watchtower. His sidekick left, as expected, for behind this smile he gave to the crowd, was someone cold. Lonely. He did not desire companionship. Or maybe, he feared it. Maybe he was afraid of the hurt that would come, when they left. He felt it one too many times. Loneliness was for the better. Attachment was for the fools. Being alone was enough.
And yet, he grieved. He grieved when he failed to save a life, maybe because he knew how it would feel like for the people close to the dead. He grieved every failure. Every injuries, every death. They were his to bear. Because he was the mightiest mortal on Earth. He should be enough.
He should be enough. Every day, he fought, again and again, lonelier and lonelier. He sacrificed his whole being to a cause he wholly believed in. He sacrificed his love to help for a rage to protect. He sacrificed his younger years to be a hero. He had no childhood. He sacrificed friendship to be more efficient, to put no one in danger like he did before.
He does not remember what made him say the word. A confrontation with a villain ? Yet another life he failed to save ? Yet another lengthy league meeting ? It was a blur. It was too much. It was enough. He was tired. He was sad. It was enough.
He faced the mirror. His silhouette, seemingly sculpted in marble. A face he became familiar with. The face of a dead man. A white gilded cape, a red costume. A smile he forced on his face every day, that soon disappeared. It was enough.
His voice, barely a whisper, trembled as he spoke the word. It was enough.
The word was spoken. Thunder struck him. He had forgotten how painful it was. And the face he knew for so long changed, for one he did not even recognize anymore. For so long, he wore the face of his dead father. He remembered watching it for so long, at the beginning, to seek comfort in his trait. Wondering what kind of person he was. Wishing he was there.
Now, he stared at a face that had changed so much. He barely remembered the face he wore, as Billy Batson. But this one had changed. Grown. He got older without even knowing. He had gotten taller. His face had grown similar to his father's. He found a little bit of comfort in that.
His eyes were blue, and wise. But they were also lifeless, sad. He could not recognize himself, and something broke in him. He was gone so far. He had gone so far. He suffered from his loneliness, there was no doubt about that.
He had regrets, but none were about him becoming a hero. He would not feel remorse for the kind decision he took years ago. He knew in his heart that his purpose was one of the greatest, that what he lived for was worth it. That's why he could keep going for so long.
His remorse and his regrets lied elsewhere. In how he pushed away everything good that happened in his life, and traded it for loneliness. Because he was afraid. Because of mourning, because of his deep grief.
He had a best friend. And because of Billy, he died. He had almost killed a man, but spared him before he could. Superman tried to talk to him, but Billy didn't want to. He wanted to be alone, and so he was. He pushed away every friendship and every bond he had created. Told himself he didn't care about them until he believed it. Hurt himself until he didn't feel it anymore. Abandoned all hope, and let himself despair, up until he was able to ignore it. From that day forward, he never changed back.
But now, now he could not ignore it anymore. He could feel every bit of his pain. It was leaving him breathless. His eyes were looking at a face that had known grief for too long.
How could he ever find hope again ? Every day that passed, he found himself feeling more and more violent, enraged. He was turning into something he didn't want to be. His grief made him grow into something monstruous, that he despised. He hated himself, and had slowly started to despise the world around him. He used to have so much love inside. He used to give it away freely to everyone he met. But now, what was left had turned sour. He had locked it away, refusing to feel it, and it had rotten.
And yet, every day, he fought against the twisted being he had become. Every day was a relentless fight not to give in to his most dangerous desire. There were so many he WANTED to kill. He would find peace at least. But he knew, deep inside, that violence would brew only more violence. It was a solution, sometimes, killing. For other people ; he could not use it to protect. He was a hero, and he had a standard to meet, a line not to cross. But every day, he felt himself come closer to it.
Tears started to fall down his cheeks. A release. A grief he felt for himself and the misery he put himself in. He had no one, no passion, and not even a will to live. For a long time, he fooled himself into thinking he did not want those things. Now, he knew that, if he did not want them, at least he needed them. Everybody does.
His knee felt weak, and he let himself slide on the floor of the bathroom. He sobbed, cried, and it was liberating. As if each tear that fell carried away more and more of his sadness, and emptied what had turned sour, to leave space for something new and fresh.
He knew that giving up on life wasn't what he should do. He wanted to, so bad, but he couldn't. It wasn't wise. He wanted to stay a hero, but a better one than he was all his years.
His thoughts returned to that fateful day, where he almost killed a man. When he was at the top of the world, in the snow, crying and grieving his best friend. Of how he pushed away Superman, who was only trying to be helpful. Faithful to the crest he wore on his torso.
Billy closed his eyes, remembering the crest of the house of El. A symbol of hope, that Superman had become.
Words escaped his mouth, his voice coarse from the tears and sobbing. He needed hope, and he would not push it away this time. He would call it home.
"Superman, I need hope, please come. Please, please. I know I'm just a voice among many. But please-"
His voice broke in a sob. He had fallen far, to find himself begging the other mightiest being on Earth to come to him. Why would he answer anyway, he probably had better things to do than to worry for a mere child, who was not even in Metropolis.
He closed his eyes, bringing his legs against his torso, passing his arms around his knees. Muffling his sob, for even he could not bear to hear his pitiful cries. He hated himself.
It took him some time, to hear the delicate knock on the window of the living room. Billy opened his eyes in disbelief, his sobs quieting. Another knock. Maybe he was hallucinating ? And yet, the young boy found himself desperately hopeful to hear this. Billy raised himself on his feet, getting out of the bathroom.
At the window, stood - or rather floated - someone familiar. Someone he had admired in his childhood, and longed to be like, even now.
"Superman ?"
His voice expressed his disbelief. Billy hurried to open the window, and the kind, smiling face of Superman welcomed him. Filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.
"You came ?"
Superman let himself in, smiling and answering simply.
"You called."
He opened his arms, inviting him in, offering him his warmth, his kindness, his hope, and Billy threw himself in the embrace, taking in the gift Superman was offering him.
fanon Billy Batson is based largely on Superman/Shazam: First Thunder, which is a mini series from 2006; I'm honestly not sure if it was originally intended to be part of mainstream continuity but storywise it's a standalone and in terms of characterisation it doesn't really fit with the other post-crisis Captain Marvel content that I've read.
pre-nu52 canon Billy:
is typically older than depicted in fanfiction; his age fluctuates and is often ambiguous but a common take going back to the 40s is that he's around 12-14 years old. he's usually a young teenager rather than a pre-teen.
generally has living on the streets following the loss of his parents as part of his backstory, but has since used his ability to transform into an adult to earn money, re-enroll himself in school, and rent an apartment. he is in an extremely non-ideal situation but he's not roofless & starving.
has an extensive supporting cast including a number of adults who are helping him out (variously: the Wizard Shazam, who in some continuities is alive and acting as a mentor; Uncle Marvel/Uncle Dudley who plays different roles in his life depending on the continuity; Mr & Mrs Bromfield, his sister Mary's adoptive parents who being reasonable people respond to learning that their adopted daughter has a twin brother with 'oh I guess we have 2 kids now'; and of, course, Tawky Tawny the Talking Tiger).
the idea of Billy being alone & desperate and needing Favourite DC Character of Choice to help him out is extremely appealing (i'm into it ngl) so by all means read & write it as much as you want, but do be aware that it's not very well supported by canon. it's not a scenario that tends to play out in the comics bcos Billy is pretty self-sufficient both in terms of storytelling and in-universe ability to take care of himself.
the change in tone between fanon & canon has a lot to do w the fact that Captain Marvel canon is a power fantasy for kids whereas most fanfiction is being written by and for adults. and a lot of adults are coming to Captain Marvel like 'oh god someone help this child'.
that said: if in your fanon Billy isn't using his Captain Marvel persona to help himself, ideally there should be a reason why not.
Captain Marvel is not consistently a member of the Justice League for the very simple out of universe reason that having him and Superman on the same team is a bit redundant
He's sometimes depicted as an auxiliary rather than full time League member. Post-crisis I think he was in the League for a bit but it was eventually decided that he should leave bcos it was causing him to miss too much school (no really). Nu52 Shazam is a League member for a while but everyone knows his secret identity.
The only continuities I know of where he's a full time long-standing League member & the fact that he's a child is a secret is Young Justice & maybe the DCAMU? Unclear on the latter as I've only watched the first movie.
Him being in the League while keeping his age a secret is a cool concept but canon hasn't actually done a whole lot with it AFAIK.
He WAS in the justice society for a while but that's a whole other canon of worms.
Totally agree with this take! I’m all for adoption fics. They’re all great reads and wonderfully done. But it’s important to know that Billy is self-sufficient, more so than other homeless kids in the dc universe. And if there’s ever a family in canon that should or would take him in(and he would 100% agree with, it would be either the Bromfields, or the Vasquez’es if we add current canon).
Also Shazam has canonically helped him out in the guardian department when “Uncle Eben” doesn’t work. There’s also other Fawcett heroes who would gladly take him in.
Also Billy realistically would NOT want to be parented my his coworker.
in fawcett, before captain marvel arrived, there were an overwhelming amount of missing person cases in the area. especially in the slums of it all. but, after captain marvel showed up, everything suddenly became better because of the guy!
suddenly, children that were ripped away from their parents were able to meet them again, and spouses were able to reunite with their significant others. street rats that were trafficked, and were wronged in every possible way, were able to keep on living, due to his help. every cold case in fawcett finally had an answer, all because of the big red cheese!
which begs the question, if captain marvel took so much time and care to find these missing people, why hadn't he found william "billy" joseph batson yet?
the kid went missing a few weeks after captain marvel was introduced to the public, but there were no signs of cm even acknowledging the kid. if it had been the same as it was before, no one would have known about the homeless boy. but it wasn't. and it was so. so odd.
all cases that captain marvel took upon himself to complete had always ended with some sort of ending, yet billys case was the only one left cold.
even when captain marvel moved on and had taken up two sidekicks, people were still bubbling with questions. because honestly, who just spends all of their time playing hero? why was cm so insistent on ignoring that specific case? was he even human?
it never seemed like captain marvel ever took any breaks off. ever since the 1940's, he's always been seen helping the city, or earth- or intergalactic worlds. how could anyone have that much motivation to go on for that long? why did mary marvel always insist that cm needed to take a break? that cmjr and her had it covered, and to just rest for one day?
it was concerning, and not helping his case at all.
even some jl members were concerned- superman and batman most of all. some of it came from curiosity regarding the cases, and most came from concern for their fellow teammate. even then, that conversation was quickly shut down.
who knows, maybe one day captain marvel will get tired. maybe one day he starts missing how it was before, knowing that thought was stupid. after all, being an abandoned, starving, freezing child in the winter was worse than being some superpowered demigod. even if his stomach still left empty despite how much he ate. how he could never properly sleep. he knew no one would mourn billy batson, and he knew how heavy this job as the champion of magic could be.
so he stepped up. he decided that billy wasnt needed. he decided that, even if he couldnt sleep at night, he could still make himself useful. since, yknow, theres no shortage of problems anywhere in the world, he could help. day and night, non-stop. the sort of repetition that he would be tired of if not for the people in captain marvels life. he decided that he didn't need to say the magic word, unless something dire ever happened.
but, its been so long. did he even remember what he even looked like at this point?
how long has he forgotten his own face?
how long has he forgotten the adrenaline, the emotions, the thrill of living?
how long has he forgotten the times he spent huddled under an alleyways garbage can, with only the clothes on his back to warm him up? how long had he forgotten the times he spent with others that actually looked out for him? the actual him?
but. whats the use of feeling mortal again, when the only thing you should be doing is protecting others? to put yourself before anyone else? to help and inspire?
For a very long time, he kept on going. Smiling to the crowd. Living for the people, for there was nothing left inside, other than that. Him being a hero. Being a savior. Being liked and watched by so many. But never loved and seen. But it was enough. He wasn't doing that for love and praise, he was not even doing it for himself. He was driven by one purpose : helping other people. And isn't that the most beautiful purpose you could be driven by.
He had sidekicks, yes. He was fond of them, but even though he shared blood with one of them, he didn't really know them. They didn't know him either. But it was ok. It was enough. He wouldn't be broken, if they decided to leave. He could keep on going, and not feel any sort of hurting.
He hadn't eaten or drank in years, because he did not need to. He missed it sometimes, but then he reminded himself, wisely, of the life he had, before he was this hero, a protector of men, before he was granted the qualities of many gods. A child, with nothing and no one. He was strong without needing to consume anything. It was enough.
He had the god, speaking to him. Their voices had gone quiet, over time. Or maybe he did not care to listen. He had the wisdom and strengths. He did not need anyone to talk to. His own self was enough.
Sometimes, he worked with the Justice League, to stop some of the greatest menace of his time. They were colleagues. Some tried to be friends. But like every other person before, he pushed them away. Because he didn't want to hurt, when they eventually abandoned him. Working with them was enough.
Soon, he found himself lonely, at the top, equal only to the strongests of this world. He watched. Protected. Filled his duties at the watchtower. His sidekick left, as expected, for behind this smile he gave to the crowd, was someone cold. Lonely. He did not desire companionship. Or maybe, he feared it. Maybe he was afraid of the hurt that would come, when they left. He felt it one too many times. Loneliness was for the better. Attachment was for the fools. Being alone was enough.
And yet, he grieved. He grieved when he failed to save a life, maybe because he knew how it would feel like for the people close to the dead. He grieved every failure. Every injuries, every death. They were his to bear. Because he was the mightiest mortal on Earth. He should be enough.
He should be enough. Every day, he fought, again and again, lonelier and lonelier. He sacrificed his whole being to a cause he wholly believed in. He sacrificed his love to help for a rage to protect. He sacrificed his younger years to be a hero. He had no childhood. He sacrificed friendship to be more efficient, to put no one in danger like he did before.
He does not remember what made him say the word. A confrontation with a villain ? Yet another life he failed to save ? Yet another lengthy league meeting ? It was a blur. It was too much. It was enough. He was tired. He was sad. It was enough.
He faced the mirror. His silhouette, seemingly sculpted in marble. A face he became familiar with. The face of a dead man. A white gilded cape, a red costume. A smile he forced on his face every day, that soon disappeared. It was enough.
His voice, barely a whisper, trembled as he spoke the word. It was enough.
‼️Warning for emotional/mental/physical child abuse‼️
Mostly goes into the mental abuse but Billy does get hurt in this one so buckle up.
Been thinking about this for a while because protective Justice League to Billy content is needed in my veins rn.
Just to preface, the League’s known Billy’s identity for four years now, he’s 16, and joined the JL st 10.
Okay so on a League mission, they face this villain that can only be defeated by the use of an ancient Egyptian staff, that can only be unlocked with a number of Egyptian keys(do yall see where I’m going with this?). One such key is a scarab that was unearthed decades ago and lost somewhere in the world.
This is, of course, going off of the Power of Shazam continuity where CC Batson unearths the scarab on a dig site.
(Actually it’s sitting behind a fake wall in Billy’s old house, the one Uncle E owns right now).
Billy volunteers to go get the scarab and that he’ll have it by end of day(because Ebenezer likes to be difficult). Obviously his teammates question how he knows where the scarab is. He’s not about to air any family grievances when he’s been keeping up the little white lie that his uncle’s been dead for years now and not having been healed for a long while because for some reason this man will not die. Also that he stole his house. And his photos. And his money.
Yeah, his team has a habit of being too protective before they catch themselves and remember that he can throttle every single one of them. Better to give them as minimal details as possible so he can get in and out.
But ofc, his longtime friends notice something is off. Just in case, Batman places a tracker on him, still careful to give him his much deserved independence.
Before he knows it, Billy is standing in front of the house he used to live in before Ebenezer took it away. Truth be told, he doesn’t know if he wants it back. After all, E’s done so many renovations it might as well be a whole new house. But it’s still his, at his core, and a part of him wants to scream at the top of his lungs like a spoiled brat that this is HIS house and he wants it back.
Ebenezer opens the door, frail and yet, powerful at the same time. Billy knows that people who know and don’t know about his family situation would have questions. The great Captain Marvel, afraid of an old man who only barely avoids death’s door? A man who hasn’t had power over him in a long time, scaring him like time’s turned back and he’s an 8 year old being kicked out of his own home?
No way. They can’t even picture that.
Ebenezer’s not happy to see Billy, and Billy’s not happy to see him. Unfortunately for them, Billy needs that scarab. He tells his uncle as much as he shoves past him and goes for the fake wall near his dad’s old study, turned into a pool game room.
Ebenezer’s shouting behind him. Incoherent curses and mutters about how he’s an ungrateful brat, and good kids don’t storm into places they don’t belong and take things that aren’t theirs.
Which is funny, because the Batsons made it a point to send everything they found on their digs to the rightful owners. It was something his parents had drilled into him and Mary. Something Ebenezer clearly hadn’t learned.
(Grandpa always liked Dad more. Maybe that’s one in the long list of reasons of why things ended the way they did)
Billy quickly brings down the wall sconce and searched through the hidden room. Ebenezer’s still yelling behind him, but he could care less. His mouth feels bitter as he sorts through various artifacts his uncle collected. Collections that were going to be sold back to their home countries, but were cancelled by you-know-who. If Billy had his way, he would’ve taken everything in his arms and flown all over the world, dropping each artifact off.
But he couldn’t. If he did, it would just be another complaint made by E that his scrappy nephew was trying to hurt him. Broken into his house and taken what was legally his.
(“That kid. It’s no wonder no one ever took him in. Who’d want that much trouble?”)
It’s ten minutes before he finds the small scarab, left half hazardously in a dusty drawer. He tells Ebenezer that he only needs this for a couple days and he’ll give it back after.
Just before he reaches the door, Ebenezer gets in his face.
Ebenezer: and just where do you think you’re going?
Billy: Out of here. I promise I’ll bring it back——
E: Your promises don’t mean shit around here, boy. Give me back that scarab and get out!
Billy: I need it.
E: Give it back to me, you useless boy!
…
He doesn’t really feel the first hit. It’s not that it doesn’t hurt. Ebenezer’s cane always hurt. It’s more like…he didn’t expect to feel that same pain after so many years.
Billy finds himself further away from the door. The ground cones up to meet him, and suddenly he’s eight years old, crying and begging his uncle to give him just one slice of bread. He doesn’t even care about butter or jam or honey, he just wants food in his mouth.
Before he knows it, Billy is attempting to nurse a cut lip and a small bruise on his cheek.
It would be so easy right now, using his magic to defend himself. Or maybe he could use the body strength he’d accumulated from healing from his homeless years. Having friends who couldn’t help but be guardians did that to you.
But his family had a deal. He hurts E physically or divulges any of what happened between them, and he would have Nick and Nora Bromfield’s adoption papers for Mary scrutinized by a judge. And even if Billy was able to prove that his cousin, Sinclair, was a half demon via Lady Blaze, E would have the cops on him too, corralling the wayward orphan boy Billy Batson to juvie.
Billy is trapped.
All he can do is hold his arms over his head to protect himself, feeling the scarab in his pocket and praying to Zeus that it stayed there. The cane drops down with a force an old man shouldn’t have. Then again, Ebenezer’s always been stronger than him. Able to turn his world on its head and leave him with nothing. This hurl of insults and jabs is just another part of that.
Everything’s getting blurry, and he thinks he feels something liquidy and warm coming down his forearm. Huh. It’s really starting to sting. He could yell, try to defend himself. But no one ever heard him before, so why would they now?
It’s only a minute later that he realizes how wrong he was.
See, the League had gotten antsy about Billy’s tracker staying in one place for so long. With help from some of Doctor Fate’s ancient texts, they’d been able to get the other artifacts. Billy, the resident kid of the League, was the only one left. And he hadn’t reported back in an hour like he said he would.
Flash and Superman decided to go after him. They’d all noticed how mute Billy had been before he left. Not willing to look any of them in eye. He seemed resigned, almost. It was weird. If Billy had told them where the scarab was, either of them would gladly go get it themselves.
Truth be told, it made Barry nervous. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Was he dead?
Holy crap, what if his friend was dead?!
The other heroes practically pushed Barry and Clark out the door. Dinah made them promise to stay with Billy even if it turned out that nothing was wrong.
(Okay so maybe the Justice League was protective of their youngest member. Sue them. If he didn’t want them to be like this, he shouldn’t be so damn adorable)
It takes no time for two of the fastest heroes on Earth to track down their teammate. Though, they don’t know what Billy’s doing in this super posh neighborhood. Is the scarab really here?
And that’s when Clark hears it. Noise coming from the house in front of them, door cracked open. He hadn’t heard it before, too busy thinking about where Billy might be, trying to parse through the many voices he heard on the daily. Before even Barry can catch up with him, Clark slams the door open and—
Billy and E both jump at the sound behind them. Still hurt, still scared, Billy looks toward the now open door to see his friends standing there. Breathing so deep he could hear it even from here.
Everything comes crashing down.
Suddenly he can feel every scar on his body. Feel Barry’s and Clark’s gazes. Feel the fear that’s now been struck in his uncle.
Shit. Shit, they saw. They saw. How did they know he’d be here? Why are they here anyway?
He can’t help but think of these questions as they make a break for him with their speed. He’s in shock. He can’t think. Why are they here? He had it handled.
Before long, Barry is cupping his face gently, like he’d porcelain. His face is still as stone.
“B-Flash, what are…how did you…?”
He doesn’t say anything. Just continues to stare intently at Billy’s scars and bruises. There isn’t any other way to describe how focused the speedster was on just holding his face, as if there was nothing and no one else in the world.
And Billy doesn’t think he’s ever seen Barry that angry before. Not now, when his face slowly, rigidly turns to Ebenezer.
It’s only a second later when the Flash tackles his uncle to the ground. Knuckles against skin in the background but Billy can’t move.
Clark is in his face now, looking so grief stricken it would’ve been funny. And Billy can see the questions about to come out of his mouth, and the worry that’s been bleeding through since they must’ve left to find him, and the warmth in which Superman wanted to hug him with when he was ready—
But then Billy’s mind is moving a mile a minute and he can’t let them hurt Ebenezer he doesn’t want to go to juvie again why does no one listen to him—
He’s in hysterics when he pushes Superman, pushes Clark, away. He sees the hurt on his friend’s face and pushes his guilt down, down, until it’s gone.
It’s all sort of a blur from there.
Barry’s punching the snot out of his uncle, eyes red and mouth curled in a snarl. He doesn’t think there’s a thought under those eyes that isn’t anger. Maybe vengeance? Protectiveness? Billy doesn’t know.
What he does know is that his friends saw something they shouldn’t have seen and now they’re going to ruin everything.
“No, no, no, stop!”
Billy can’t get between them, so he focused all his attention on pulling Barry off of Ebenezer. He pushes Clark away the moment the man is pulled from his angry trance and tries to pull him away from the one-sided fight.
It’s hard, pulling Barry off and away from his uncle. Mostly because the man is the angriest he ever has been and doesn’t seem like he wants to let up. But also because he’s doing it for him. Barry is punting this man into the ground because he hurt him, and Billy kind of wants him to continue, but…
“Flash, get off him right now!”
Maybe it’s the shock of it all. Of the anger finally being released. But Barry can only stare as Billy successfully pushes him off of his uncle. The speedster and the Kryptonian look…betrayed? Why do they look like that? What did HE do?
First things first.
Billy helps Ebenezer up. He can still feel the scarab in his pocket, so that’s good. He doesn’t have to be here any longer.
He looks at his uncle more intently now. They don’t need to speak as they do.
Ebenezer won’t call the police. He can’t.
Billy can’t bring attention to this. He can’t.
They have a deal.
Billy: *looks at Clark and Barry* I got the scarab. Let’s go.
Barry: Are you being serious right now?
Billy: We’re done here, we can leave now.
Clark: B, you’re hurt right now.
Barry: Because of HIM. *points to Ebenezer* You’re really not going to, what, call the cops?
Billy: No, now let’s——
Barry: He HURT you! God, Billy, you were on the ground getting hit over and over with a cane! And you expect us to let that go?
Billy: Yeah, because I’m asking you to——
Clark: Who even is this man? How do you know him?
Billy: I—That’s none of your business.
Clark: My friend was hurt because of him. That’s always going to be my business.
Barry: Start talking.
Billy: …And if I don’t?
Barry: Jesus- LOOK AT YOURSELF! You’re bleeding all over and you just expect us to let it go? I want to know, kid. I wanna know why this asshat thought he could hurt you and get away with it.
Clark: We’re your friends, B. Why can’t you trust us?
And Billy does trust his friends.
Just not with this.
Billy: Let’s go.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Barry Allen and Clark kent look as sorrowful and betrayed as they do now. He kind of wants to curl up into a ball and die, but he also wants to get the hell out of here.
That’s when Flash grabs him by the hand and pulls him to the open door. Superman follows close behind, not a word from either of them.
He can’t see what expression Barry has on his face, but with the way his hand is shaking slightly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the speedster is barely holding back his anger. And Clark looks like he just wants to comfort him, which, sweet, but no thanks.
(Gods, he’s awful. He’s such an awful person. E’s right, he’s always been right—)
The rest is a blur. They get to the watchtower via zeta tube and the rest of his friends and coworkers are staring daggers at him, at his ruffled clothes, how wrong he looks, and all he can do is stare at the ground as he’s practically dragged to the medbay.
The minute he’s there he gives Clark the scarab. Clark looks like he wants to throw it into the deepest expanses of space, but he nods in thanks.
The nurse heals him. Billy should probably learn some self-healing magic too for his mortal body. He honestly just wants to collapse in his bed and sleep the pain away.
Oh, and there’s also a huge purple gash along his forearm. Maybe that’s why a lot of them were staring. It honestly doesn’t hurt as much.
But then Oliver and Hal have joined Barry at the door, staring, staring, just staring, and it’s clear he’s not getting rest any time soon. He’s brought into the main rotunda where everyone is and he feels like an auction item everyone is gawking at. He just wants to sleep and forget any of this happened.
Diana comes up to him before anyone else can get a word out.
She only barely gets her hand to his cheek without shaking.
Diana: What is this?
Billy: …
Diana: *looks to Barry and Clark* What happened?
Clark: There was…
Barry: Good question. Care to answer it, kid?
Billy: Nothing happened, it’s fine. I got the scarab——
Diana: Then why do you look like this?
Billy: I’m——
Barry: If you say fine, one more time——
Hal: Barry…
Barry: No, you didn’t see what I saw, man. He was huddling in on himself on the ground and would’ve been beaten to death if we hadn’t been there, didn’t even seem like he was gonna fight back.
Diana: Is this true, Billy?
Billy: …It’s over now.
Oliver: Oh my——You can’t expect us to put this away, B. LOOK at you!
Bruce: *looks up from tablet* This address. It’s your uncle’s.
Billy: …
Bruce: You said he was dead.
Billy: …
Hal: Jesus…
Diana: Captain, why?
Clark: So that was…HE’S your uncle?!
Barry: Oh. Oh, he’s THAT piece of shit, is he? And you just defended him against us!
Hal: He WHAT?!
Barry: Yeah, pushed me off him and wouldn’t let us take him down a notch.
Billy: He-He’s frail, you really would’ve hurt——
Oliver: YOU’RE HURT!
Bruce:I’m lookng into this.
Clark: Good idea.
Billy: What? No! No, you’re not getting into MY PERSONAL family business.
Dinah: Billy? I want you to look at yourself in the mirror. Really look at yourself and understand what we’re seeing right now.
Billy: Trust me, I am VERY aware of what you’re seeing. Because guess what, this isn’t my first rodeo with my uncle. Does it suck that this happened again? Yeah, yeah it did. But I don’t want to do anything about it, and that’s my choice.
Dinah: He harmed a minor——
Billy: A juvenile minor who, thanks to him, has a bad rep with the police. I’m telling you, as many times as it takes for you to understand. You cannot do anything about this. You need to let it go.
Bruce: What aren’t you telling us? There has to be something more to this.
Billy: And you’re welcome to investigate all you want. You won’t find anything. Now if this is all over, I’m going to bed.
Before he can leave, Diana’s in front of him again. This time, she just has a smile on her face. “Are you okay?”
And gods above, he’s glad to have heard those words after the day he’s had.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanna sleep it off.”
And then she smiles, and all the stress of the day just leaves him.
He’s finally left alone after that. Of course, everyone has questions, but they thankfully don’t ask. Billy’s keeping all that tight-lipped, thank you very much.
They’re not wrong. Billy knows they just want to help him. That they care. And it’s actually really nice seeing how defensive they are of him.
But he’s not risking his sister’s new family. He’s not risking going back to juvie. He’s not risking the fragile peace in the Batson family right now. Not even on himself.
Not even for the heroes who just want to help their youngest teammate.
(Okay but Bruce is still going to look into this and Barry wants first hit if they get him arrested. Clark reminds his friend nicely, even though he wants to do the same, that the man is still a civilian. Billy just repeats that he wants first hit).
accidental billy batdad au but its just the young justice & justice league members competing and vying for second place on captain marvel's priority list because they assume the shazamily is already the number one priority for cap
in fawcett, before captain marvel arrived, there were an overwhelming amount of missing person cases in the area. especially in the slums of it all. but, after captain marvel showed up, everything suddenly became better because of the guy!
suddenly, children that were ripped away from their parents were able to meet them again, and spouses were able to reunite with their significant others. street rats that were trafficked, and were wronged in every possible way, were able to keep on living, due to his help. every cold case in fawcett finally had an answer, all because of the big red cheese!
which begs the question, if captain marvel took so much time and care to find these missing people, why hadn't he found william "billy" joseph batson yet?
the kid went missing a few weeks after captain marvel was introduced to the public, but there were no signs of cm even acknowledging the kid. if it had been the same as it was before, no one would have known about the homeless boy. but it wasn't. and it was so. so odd.
all cases that captain marvel took upon himself to complete had always ended with some sort of ending, yet billys case was the only one left cold.
even when captain marvel moved on and had taken up two sidekicks, people were still bubbling with questions. because honestly, who just spends all of their time playing hero? why was cm so insistent on ignoring that specific case? was he even human?
it never seemed like captain marvel ever took any breaks off. ever since the 1940's, he's always been seen helping the city, or earth- or intergalactic worlds. how could anyone have that much motivation to go on for that long? why did mary marvel always insist that cm needed to take a break? that cmjr and her had it covered, and to just rest for one day?
it was concerning, and not helping his case at all.
even some jl members were concerned- superman and batman most of all. some of it came from curiosity regarding the cases, and most came from concern for their fellow teammate. even then, that conversation was quickly shut down.
who knows, maybe one day captain marvel will get tired. maybe one day he starts missing how it was before, knowing that thought was stupid. after all, being an abandoned, starving, freezing child in the winter was worse than being some superpowered demigod. even if his stomach still left empty despite how much he ate. how he could never properly sleep. he knew no one would mourn billy batson, and he knew how heavy this job as the champion of magic could be.
so he stepped up. he decided that billy wasnt needed. he decided that, even if he couldnt sleep at night, he could still make himself useful. since, yknow, theres no shortage of problems anywhere in the world, he could help. day and night, non-stop. the sort of repetition that he would be tired of if not for the people in captain marvels life. he decided that he didn't need to say the magic word, unless something dire ever happened.
but, its been so long. did he even remember what he even looked like at this point?
how long has he forgotten his own face?
how long has he forgotten the adrenaline, the emotions, the thrill of living?
how long has he forgotten the times he spent huddled under an alleyways garbage can, with only the clothes on his back to warm him up? how long had he forgotten the times he spent with others that actually looked out for him? the actual him?
but. whats the use of feeling mortal again, when the only thing you should be doing is protecting others? to put yourself before anyone else? to help and inspire?
