Now go home and grab your fucking shine box! #billybats #goodfellas https://www.instagram.com/p/BrW1TRTAtzl/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=7ov85jmirf64
Great birthday times last night @pacificjunction #jeffcoopmanart #goodfellas #billybats #ineedtoborrowthisknife #nomoreshines #gohomeandgetyourfuckingshinebox #joepesci
Wordcount: 3306 words.
Warnings: New 52 canon (mostly). Mild language.
Summary: Uh, future fic? College AU? Basically, Billy gets into college, and Damian Wayne is one of his suitemates. Hilarity ensues.
Crossposted: AO3.
"I don't know why I had to go to college anyway," Billy muttered, and Mary sighed on the other end of the phone.
"Because you got the scholarship, Billy," she retorted. "Besides, Darla is so excited to be able to brag about her older brother."
"Eugene went already—"
"Yeah, but everyone expected Eugene to go." Mary giggled, and Billy smiled, more helplessly than he liked, at the sound. "You, on the other hand... well. There were teachers who weren't sure you'd make it through high school, let alone into college."
Billy sighed, shrugged even though she couldn't see that, and glanced around his room again. It was bare since his roommate still hadn't arrived, and he eyed the box of wall decorations that Mary and Pedro had put together for him. Freddy had helped him find a new set of red turtlenecks, and Billy left the stack of them in the bag he'd packed. Eugene's gifted encyclopedias didn't fit on his desk properly, and there was a note on the first one saying they were for looks and Billy better remember that they were already out of date. Darla...
Billy pulled out the picture she'd given him. A drawing of him and Tawny, and she'd written under the picture, 'Remember, you're a tiger, too!'
He wasn't sure if she understood all the connotations of that sentence, but the picture made him smile all the same. He hesitated, and then taped it up on the inside of his closet door, so that whoever his roommate would be couldn't complain or mock him for it. Then he stashed the rest of his things inside the closet.
"But anyway," Mary continued, her voice a steady stream in his ear. The bluetooth earpiece was more a prop than anything. Actually using it for his phone was a little strange. "Don't forget, you're supposed to actually unpack your clothes, not live out of your bag, and those wall decorations better be up when I come to visit you. Pedro and I worked hard on that collection!"
Billy made a low, thoughtful noise, and then he glanced over at the box again. "Yeah," he breathed. "I'll get them up."
At some point.
"Did you make your doorway yet?"
The words made Billy go still, and for a second, he wasn't sure if he wanted to answer. He closed his eyes, and he nodded again. "Yeah. Hell finding an easy access underground though. I mean, there's access, but finding one without a ton of people..."
Mary chuckled. "I can understand that. I had the same problem."
"You got yours set up, then?"
"Yeah. Pedro and I have one and Eugene swears up and down that he'll get his access set up this week. Freddy's already called twice, complaining that we took too long."
"Darla can use the one at home for a while longer," Billy said, as much agreement as anything else. "Then we don't have to worry about someone not having access. Still, I'd rather her not be in there without one of us—"
"Yeah... Everything is a little... well. It's all just too fond of her for my comfort." Mary's voice dropped slightly, and she sighed. Billy didn't have to see her to know she shook her head at those words. There had been entirely too many close calls with Darla in the castle, and Billy had busted his ass trying to figure out just how to charm the portals so that Darla couldn't enter unless it was an emergency or one of the others was already in there.
At least now he'd managed to get the spell set where Darla's entry to the castle alerted everyone.
"True enough," Billy muttered, and he sighed as he let himself fall back onto the bed. "Doesn't matter though. I got the portal spell fixed now, so we won't have any of those close calls, hopefully. In any case, we should be set up to start the meets again in a week or so."
"You'll use it between now and then," Mary replied. Her voice warmed, and Billy closed his eyes. If he didn't look around the empty room, he could pretend she was sitting on the bed with him. He could pretend he was back at the Vasquez's house, with Darla and Pedro in the next room, Eugene's nose buried in his book, and Freddy trying to talk him into letting him use the tablet. Mary had always been the calmest of them. It was reassuring, talking to her like this.
"Probably. I mean, I can't exactly up and vanish just because I went to college, you know?"
Mary made a low humming noise, and then Billy cracked his eyes open to look at the ceiling. It hurt too much to pretend that for long.
"Well, in any case, I want you to be careful. And remember your homework! It's not a joke in college like it was in high school."
"Yeah, yeah. And if I don't do well, they'll pull my scholarship and I'll have to go back home in shame." They'd had the discussion too many times now, but Billy smiled again all the same. "And whatever would Darla do then?"
"Be horribly disappointed, and I seem to recall a certain hero telling her that he'd never let her down."
Billy groaned. "Don't ever let me say stupid things like that again." When she laughed, his smile widened. His attention snapped to the door though at a few sounds from the other side of the wall, and he purposely kept his smile up and his voice light as he said, "Look, let me let you go. I gotta get these decorations up, or my sister is going to kill me right?"
"Damn straight she will," Mary agreed, and for all that they both pretended nothing was wrong, he could hear the wary tone under her words. She took his cue though, and she didn't protest. Doubtless, the moment she hung up, he'd get a text demanding to know what was wrong. "You be careful, okay?"
And then she was gone, and Billy reached up to snag the bluetooth earpiece off his head before he opened the door to the bathroom. There was another door on the other side of the tiled room, and he could hear someone there. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned against the wall for a minute, just listening.
"I still don't see why I am not allowed to bring any of my weapons."
Billy rolled his eyes, and he tried not to think what kind of weapons this kid would think he needed. Replica katana, maybe, or those wall-mounted swords that were so popular.
"Master Damian, it would be against the rules and regulations that we went over."
That voice was older, and Billy's eyebrows winged up at the implication. 'Master' Damian? Kid was probably from money then, and dammit, but that was the whole reason why Billy hadn't wanted to attend somewhere like Princeton. There was no Darla or Pedro or Freddy to keep him back, no Eugene to roll his eyes fondly when Billy flew off the handle, and no Mary to physically restrain him when he was set off. Here, it was just Billy and Billy's self-restraint.
You have developed admirable self-restraint over the years, Billy.
He glanced up to meet Francesca's eyes in the shiny tile, and a faint smile quirked his lips. He'd need to clean the tiles in the bathroom with something to fog them up then. The last thing he wanted was for her face to show up while he was on the toilet or in the shower or something.
"Maybe," he murmured. "I doubt it's good enough to put up with some rich brat constantly."
What was the old guy then, anyway? Some kind of servant? Who had servants these days?
"I remember the regulations," Damian retorted on the other side of the wall, and Billy didn't have to see him to know the sort of exasperated frown that went with that tone. "You read them aloud on the trip here."
"Just as well."
That voice, though... That voice made Billy shudder, something cold and creeping under his skin as his eyes widened. He knew that voice. His breath stuck in his throat, and he closed his eyes.
"Now," that voice continued, "we know you've read them."
Billy couldn't stand it anymore beyond that. He grabbed the door handle for the other room, and he pulled the door open, pasting a bright grin on his face. "Hey," he said, his voice light and bright and cheerful. It was an easy tone to hit if he let himself think about Darla and her cheer. "I'm next door. Makes us, what, suitemates? They call these rooms suites, don't they? Or quads or something?"
He left the door open behind him, and he held out his hand to the middle-aged guy first. He'd thought, with that voice, but seeing him now...
Somehow, he'd never pictured Batman with that fond smile on his face, every bit as proud a parent as the Vasquezes had ever been toward their kids. Batman was cold and detached and analytical, and there was a reason that the League had always wondered if it was really okay to let him have his Robins.
(Then again, the brass it took for the League to consider themselves 'letting' Batman do anything... Billy had never been so dumb, personally. He knew better. If it ever came down to Batman versus the League, Billy would be better off cutting his ties and simply not being a hero for a while. He didn't have to Shazam to be a hero, after all.)
"I mean, I think quads are a stupid name. There's four of us in the place, but there's only two bedrooms and only three rooms total if you count the bathroom. My name's Billy Batson. I'm here on the—"
"Wayne scholarship," the middle-aged guy said, and his smile faltered slightly. He took Billy's hand though, and he shook it. "I'm Bruce—"
"Wayne?" Billy asked, his grin widening. "So I'm here on your dime? No pressure there." He kept his grin up, wide and easy and bland, and he pulled his hand back.
"What a coincidence, Father," Damian said, and Billy glanced over at him curiously.
If 'Bruce' was Batman, given the size of the kid, it meant he was probably Robin. Then Damian shifted and folded his arms across his chest, and Billy's grin sharpened slightly before he thought of Darla again in an attempt to smooth it out. Definitely Robin. Billy had lost count of how often he'd seen Robin do exactly that in the Watchtower.
"Yeah. Mean, I guess it keeps us close enough for him to keep an eye on both of us." Billy tilted his head. Clark had been entirely too damn smug when Billy had called him to mention the letter, and he'd always suspected that Superman and Batman lived in each other's pockets more than they let on. Maybe Clark had arranged the stupid scholarship, and Eugene putting Billy's application in had only been a coincidence.
Or maybe there was enough magic swirling around him that this was where he was supposed to be and the magic would not be denied. He did have the dumbest superpowers, after all, like finding crime by accident. That hadn't gotten any better as he got older, and no matter how much Francesca tried to convince him that it was useful, it still seemed really dumb to him.
"After all, I guess we're both here on his dime. Makes sense he'd want to keep an eye on us. I'm Billy—"
"Batson. I heard."
Damian did not reach to shake his hand, and Billy pulled back after just a second more with a shrug. "Nice to meet you, man. I'm assuming it's also Wayne? Damian Wayne? Pieced that much together." He brushed past Damian to hold out his hand to the old guy in the room, and he smiled brightly once more. "And you are?"
"Alfred Pennyworth," Damian said, before the old guy could answer for himself. Billy grinned as he shook Alfred Pennyworth's hand, and none of them offered an explanation as to who, exactly, Alfred Pennyworth, so he assumed his original guess was not that far off. Servant or butler or something else that rich folk had. He glanced back over at Damian.
"So what's your major, Damian Wayne?" he asked. That was the appropriate question. Darla had coached him based on the numerous TV shows she watched. Billy hadn't had time for TV in years. Ever, really, since watching TV while on the streets wasn't exactly something he'd ever tried, and between the Vasquezes' mandatory family time and his own superheroing, his free time was precious little. Sometimes, he'd even recorded his damn podcast from inside the Rock of Eternity.
(It always had a weird sound when he did that, but there was the easy bonus that time didn't pass at the same rate there. Billy could breathe and sleep and pretend that there were enough hours in the day for him. There weren't, but damn if Billy hadn't gotten very good at micromanaging every single minute of those precious few hours.)
When Damian didn't immediately answer, Billy plowed ahead, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm totally digging their archaeology program, myself, and I mean, I'm no Indiana Jones, but I figure it's cool stuff, right?" His eyes narrowed at the way Damian had gone so still, so completely and unnaturally still. Damian's gaze darted between Billy and Bruce, and Alfred continued calmly unpacking him. Posters on the wall and clothes neatly placed in stacks in the dresser. There was a teapot set up on top of the dresser, with what looked like an incense holder.
Billy was fairly certain that incense was against the college regulations, but the whole thing had an almost altar-like feel to it, and who was he to judge? He still had a pinch of Black Adam's ashes that he'd never managed to convince himself to get rid of. Some days, each and every one of those ashes seemed to weigh a ton.
"I just like history though. Ancient languages and all. You into that kind of thing?"
Once again, Damian looked almost panicked, but this time, it wasn't Billy who came to his rescue. Instead, the door opened and some new kid walked in. He had two bags and a tote in his arms, and Billy hesitated, trying to figure out just how much stuff he actually brought with him.
"Oh, uh... Is this..? I thought this was my room?"
"I'm next door," Billy offered, jabbing a thumb back toward the bathroom, where the other room could be seen. "I was just saying hi."
"Oh!" The kid nodded, and he dragged his things into the room. Billy shifted his weight, glancing out toward the hallway. There were a few more bags there, and holy hell, just how much did this kid need for his year at college? Billy had managed to pack everything in a duffel bag. Damian clearly hadn't needed more than two himself, given that Alfred was almost finished with them. Just what had the new kid brought that he needed so many?
He set his first load of things down on the empty bed. He reached up to brush his floppy pale brown hair back from his face.
(Pale brown, and how was Billy stuck somewhere that that was a real color? The hair was obviously dyed, and it was too dark to be blond. So help him, the guy dyed his hair. Mary would die laughing at him when he told her about his suitemates.)
"I'm Zachariah Quentin Thomas the third," he said.
For a second, Billy just stared at him, and he realized belatedly that he was obviously expecting Billy to have some idea who he was. Billy grinned, and he nodded. "Cool, man. I'm Billy Batson. From next door, like I said. Looks like I'm sharing the bathroom with you guys." He waited a beat, then added with a degree of relish that he really should have hidden better, "You're rooming with Damian here." He took the half a step closer to Damian, threw an arm over his shoulder, and added, "Damian Wayne."
"Wayne?" Zachariah said, his eyebrows raising sharply, and Billy let Damian dislodge him with a single easy movement. He glanced back toward Bruce, and his grin widened at the very faint frown he could see there.
Definitely Batman. There was no mistaking that disapproval. To be fair, Billy probably shouldn't have enjoyed watching the way Zachariah sized Damian up. If it came down to a fight, Billy would put all his money on Damian. Unless Bruce was in the room. Then Damian would probably throw it, after all.
"Yeah, Wayne. So, you okay if I call you Zacky? That's way easier to remember than your whole mouthful of a name." Billy looked back at Zacky, and yeah, that was definitely a better fit. Zacky's mouth opened and closed twice, and Billy's phone rang before Zacky could protest the nickname.
Billy pulled it out and waved it, just enough for everyone to see it ringing, and he said cheerfully, "Sorry, guys, hate to skip out, but you know, duty calls and all. I'll catch you later though!" He ducked out of the room, and he slid his thumb across the screen to take the call as he headed down the hallway.
"Yo, what's up?" he said easily, and he found a stairwell to stand on that wasn't being used to bring furniture or bags up. What the hell kinds of things did kids even bring with them to college?
"Billy." Clark's voice was easy and warm, and Billy smiled faintly for it before he headed down the stairs. He wanted to find somewhere relatively private, and with his own roommate due any minute, he figured heading away from all the kids moving in was his better bet. "How is it going? Did you get moved in?"
Billy hummed a short note, and then he said, "Yeah, got moved in okay. All set up. Classes start pretty soon, but until they do, I figure I'll be at the Tower, you know?"
"Nonsense. Take your time, get settled in. You deserve it. I'd have been there to help you move in, but—"
"Yeah, no, it's cool. I get it. I've got more free time than you anyway." Billy leaned back against a rail, and he looked up at the sky. "So, you wanna tell me why Batman just dropped Robin off at my dorm? Because I don't remember this being a babysitting gig."
For a minute, there was quiet, and then Clark started laughing, and the sheer affection in it made Billy smile. How could it not? Then Clark replied, "I'm glad they made it there. There's been some concern about Robin adjusting at college, you know. I promised Batman that I knew someone perfectly reliable to keep Robin out of trouble."
Something twisted sharply in Billy's chest, and he blew out a breath as he looked back across the campus. Too much activity, and Billy still wasn't sure he was actually okay committing to another four years (minimum) of this. Balancing school, work, and superheroing was entirely too stressful.
"I don't know, man. I just... you know, I've got a lot on my plate—"
"I know you can do it, Billy. I have faith in you."
Billy could hear that smile in Clark's voice, and he went still for it. His eyes closed, and he shook his head faintly before he smiled back. "Yeah," he breathed. "I hear you. I'll see what I can do."
Wordcount: 453 words.
Warnings: Language. New 52 canon.
Summary: Robin and Shazam might have met the night before one of Robin’s few League meetings. Nightwing never stops facepalming.
“Oh, hey, you brought Robin! That’s so cool!” Shazam grinned as he waved to the other kid, and he snorted, a grin on his lips as Robin looked right through him. Standoffish, but then again, that was probably to be expected. Batman kept Robin pretty locked away from the other Leaguers, after all, and more importantly, the kid had to be worried about the legacy that cape represented.
Then Robin looked at him, met his gaze— maybe, it was hard to tell with the domino— and then went still.
And not still like Billy had ever gone before. He went so perfectly, inhumanly still that Shazam thought maybe he’d stopped breathing.
“You okay, kid?” he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, tilting his head. Robin’s hand flexed, the only movement Shazam could see, and then with reflexes that seemed impossible on a kid like him, he leapt up and caught a fistful of Shazam’s cloak. Shazam let Robin drag him down, and he managed another grin as he reached up to try to dislodge his hand. "Yeah, c'mon—"
“Were you a boy instead of an old man last night?”
This time, it was Shazam who stopped breathing, and for a second, they stayed right there before Shazam dropped his hand and laughed. "Were you a boy instead of a bird last night?“
When Robin didn’t move, didn’t let him go, Billy’s stomach dropped out. Something cold washed through him, and his eyes widened. "Wait, seriously, were you a boy instead of a bird last night? In—”
The city name failed him because all he could think of was that kid he’d tumbled into the alley with. There had been too many hands, clothes pushed out of the way and opened up and torn when things had gotten a little too heady. About his size, hard with muscle, Billy had thought last night that the kid should be a vigilante if he wasn’t already, but hell, he’d been thinking the Titans, not—
“The meeting is starting.” Batman’s low growl broke through, and Robin’s hand opened. Shazam looked over his shoulder, met Batman’s gaze, and for a second, nothing was in his head. Then…
“I slept with your son last night,” he blurted, and he could feel Solomon’s facepalm. Robin huffed behind him, and Batman didn’t move. Finally, he shot a look over toward Nightwing, sighed and shook his head, and then headed back into the main meeting room.
Nightwing opened his mouth to protest that Shazam didn't mean him, closed it, and then looked over at Shazam and Robin. He folded his arms across his chest, then shifted his weight and shook his head. "Well, I guess I’ll be the one giving the talk. After the meeting. Go on.“
Wordcount: 1192 words.
Warnings: Language. New 52 canon.
Summary: Billy Batson is in Gotham as a favor to a friend, investigating some weird magic that’s going on. Robin finds him, and isn’t about to let some strange, naive magic user wander the streets of Gotham alone.
"I wish there wasn't any magic," Billy retorted. "Then I wouldn't have to be here, would I?"
He shoved off the wall, and he sighed as he reached up to shove a hand through his hair, pushing his hoodie back in the motion. "Look, it's just magic, okay? It's magic swirling around, and I've had a headache ever since I got in the city limits. You guys have such a high number of villains and all; I wouldn't be surprised if that was part of it, you know?"
"The magic? Or the headache." That tone again. Even and carefully chosen. Robin let the first two words be a question, but the others... He'd clipped them short, like he already knew that answer.
Billy sighed, and he considered it for a second, trying to decide. He shifted his weight to his other foot, and he shook his head. "Both, maybe. Depends on how sensitive you are to magic and all, you know? I mean, it can like..." He hesitated, trying to think of a good way to even describe it. Pedro had asked him before, but it had been Darla who had managed to find the words.
"It's like having glass grinding against your skin, but when you look, there's nothing there," he said. He'd never asked Darla how she knew that sensation. "And it gets distracting. Do you ever have that feeling? Like something's driving you crazy, but whenever you look for it, it vanishes?"
Robin held his gaze, but when Billy tensed, he shook his head. "No," he said, and his voice was slightly flatter than it had been. Billy smiled. Doubtless, Robin thought he was crazy now. Assuming, of course, that he hadn't thought that before.
"Must be nice," he said after a second. "Means you're not sensitive to the magic here." He considered it. Getting rid of Robin was not going to happen. Not short of trussing him up somewhere. And that happening while Billy was not Shazam was...unlikely. And no way in hell was he going to Shazam and then truss Robin up somewhere.
Batman would beat him black and blue. Then once Robin got out, he'd remember where his katana were, and he'd kill Billy himself.
Definitely not a good plan.
"Look, let's just, can we go back to the alley? There was a seam there, and I can just figure this out and go home. Then you won't be in trouble and I'll be done--"
"We can't go back to the alley," Robin said. "Father will look there first."
Billy hesitated, and then he closed his eyes as he tilted his he/.ad back. "Because you were lurking there, waiting on me. Hell. Then I'll have to find a new one, and that could take a while."
He reached into his back pocket, automatically rolling his shoulder to get his hoodie out of the way. He had a map of Gotham there, and he glanced around them before he asked, "We okay to be here while I start looking, or should we move somewhere?"
"I have a better idea." Robin turned and snatched Billy's arm. His fingers wrapped around Billy's wrist, and damn, Billy had known Robin was strong. He wasn't sure he'd ever realized that Robin felt like he could break Billy's wrist if Billy struggled too much.
Robin stalked through the streets of Gotham like he owned them. Billy supposed, in some ways, he did. The city pulsed around them, and Billy glanced down at his map for a second before he shoved it back into his pocket. He let his eyes unfocus a little, let himself start to track the swirling sparkles of magic that glinted and blurred the neon lights. The magic got thicker, and suddenly, Billy jerked back.
Robin's hand tightened around his wrist, and Billy gasped before he shook his head and made his eyes focus again. They were standing in front of a shop. It was just as seedy as the restaurant earlier, but this wasn't just some occult shop in the middle of Gotham. The magic here was real. It felt like the magic around Zatana, and a little like that around Constantine. This was someone who fought and won. Someone forged in the too-hot fires of too many demons and not enough magicians to keep the world safe.
Billy swallowed, and his hand trembled faintly. He clenched it into a fist, and he glanced over at Robin. "You uh... this is a real magic shop," he said, and his voice was low. Lower than he intended, but there was something in the air that made him think a hushed tone was the best plan. "Does Batman like, keep tabs on those? That's sketchy--"
"Of course he doesn't," Robin said. It was almost as low as Billy's. "But it is useful to know."
"How did you know it was real magic? I mean, I know. I can tell, but I thought--"
"Shut up."
Billy glanced down where Robin was holding onto his wrist, and he hesitated for just a second before the pain got too bad. Then he shifted enough to draw Robin's attention to him. "All right, all right," he said disarmingly, and Robin's hold loosened. "Let's go in then. Get off these streets before someone else comes looking for you."
Robin gave him a single, sharp nod, and then he headed on into the shop. The bells had a bright sound to them, and Billy could smell lavender. He didn't let himself unfocus here, not with the amount of magic that been outside. The wards strained against him at the door, but he blew out a soft breath. Instead of fighting them, he let them wash over him.
They yielded.
He stepped in, just a split second behind Robin, and he wasn't surprised to see the woman's head come up. Her long red hair glittered in the candle light. She met his eyes, and they both smiled. She leaned over the counter.
"Well now," she breathed, "I never expected anyone like you in here."
He ducked his head and laughed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, not my normal beat, you know? Kind of visiting."
She nodded after a second, then she looked over at Robin. Her smile widened. "Did you come for tea, Robin, or is this work?"
Billy hadn't expected the faint dust of red over Robin's face, and he bit back his own chuckle as Robin snatched his hand away. Robin folded his arms over his chest, and he said, "Work. It's work."
Billy shook his head. "I'm Billy," he said cheerfully. "I'm tracking some magic I found a few streets over. Robin said you were probably the best one to help." He crossed the room to hold out a hand to her.
She studied his hand for a minute before she took it. Then she leaned in close to him, looking into his eyes, and Billy swallowed. She grinned. "I'm Sorcha," she answered. "You brought a map?"
Billy produced it from his pocket again, and Sorcha nodded. "Robin, flip the open sign, would you? I'll get the pendulum."
