Gravel crunched under Billy's boots as he was shepherded through a wide path to the manor's majestic front door. The gritty pebble trail was unobscured by darkness thanks to the guiding light of garden pathway lanterns, arranged in a helpful outline that contained the path from the landscape. Even Wonder Woman's lasso binding Billy's wrists cast a golden glow, helping illuminate his way.
Not even snow really seemed to want to touch this place. Only a couple white spots on the lawn reminded him which season this was—unless the lawn was fake and actually covered some heated underground bunker, but that seemed so unnecessarily extra, even for these guys.
Billy was led up grand, speckle-stone porch stairs that could have fit a multi-tiered orchestra or a high school marching band, if any of those were fit to be a unit of measurement. The double front doors were made of heavy, dark, paneled wood and looked like they belonged to a courthouse. Billy had seen enough courthouses in his lifetime to know what one looked like, they had a type. An unintended little pang of nervousness hit him, not caused by superheroes this time. Bad memories...
If the porch was impressive, then the manor's inside was akin to a religious experience. Billy craned his head for a skyward view because that was the only way to see the place in its scope and breadth. Chandeliers warmly lit a gold gilded ceiling, the fixtures looking small for how high they were. The ceiling was probably two Vasquez houses high. A wide staircase to his immediate left curved to the second floor. Decoration wise, recesses in the walls displayed either a vase filled with flowers or a bust of some powerful, stoic looking person. Definitely leadership types. The tan marble floor was aggressively clean and reflected glint so starkly that it almost seemed wet.
Every turn and every view gave Billy's heart a flutter of awe. A yodeling luchador with bells on could have burst from a corner, making for a running tackle, and Billy still wouldn't have seen it coming. All in all? The design seemed faintly Grecian. Or maybe all architecture looked Grecian now because Billy was studying Ancient Greece in History class.
"This way, if you please," said Wonder Woman, bringing Billy's attention back to Earth. Her tone was courteous, Billy noted, like she was giving him a choice to enter by his own free will, but he knew well enough that he was expected to obey.
He was led into an enormous, cavernous, darkened room that could be nothing other than a banquet hall or ballroom. Moonlight shined through tall, two-story windows on the right side wall, giving the space an ethereal, mythical quality. Billy was sure in daylight it would look like any old fancy banquet hall, but tonight was something on another level. It was as if the mere presence of the Justice League could make anything mundane suddenly seem unordinary. Superman could have held a fork and Billy would swear that the utensil was cleaner and glinted brighter.
The ceiling stretched so high that the gold chandeliers were linked to chain cranks in order to lower them to be dusted. White balustrades contained a second floor walkway visible up above. One large, round, polished mahogany table sat in the ballroom floor's center. The chairs were spaced quite far, there being only seven, when there was ample room for more.
"Wow," said Billy in an exhale. He didn't know how many more times he could say this, but speech failed him. Had this place not been a manor then this room would have belonged to a modern palace.
"Impressed?" said Cyborg, standing next to one of the chairs, no doubt his. The moonlight created a pop of chrome shine on his metallic parts, and his red, cybernetic eye was like a sniper's bead in the dark.
"Uh huh," answered Billy in a far away tone, currently admiring just how much material had to go into the curtains just for them to reach ceiling to floor.
Superman stood by, having entered the room as well. There was a dignified grace he carried about him, a trait very much at odds with how much power was packed into every peak of those mountainous, shredded biceps. Yet Superman was such a rare being who could wear both traits equally and have them not be opposed. He followed Billy's skyward gaze.
"The Champion, was it?" he said warmly. "I understand that this must be quite a bit to take in all at once."
"Chuh, you got that right."
Superman nodded, his half-smile fleeting before his demeanor changed. "Then I think you know why you musn't tell a soul of what you've seen tonight."
Billy returned to Earth. An objection almost crawled up his throat. If Freddy knew he was hiding something like this...
He shifted uncomfortably as he considered what he was being entrusted to do. Superman was right, however. Billy trusted his foster siblings with everything he had, but being invited to this very room was a precarious offering with a hundred potential directions that had not been constructed yet. Every unfolding moment was so fresh that the concrete to pave those directions hadn't even been manufactured yet. For a few minutes Billy had completely lost perspective on just how significant it was to be brought to this room. This wasn't a place where The Justice League scheduled their appointments and got their make-up done for Vanity Fair interviews and photoshoots. Real stuff got done here.
What did Billy think he was even doing here? Did he really think there was a chance he could work with these guys. Dream on, he told himself. He still wasn't even entirely clear on exactly why he'd been summoned, he was getting way too ahead of himself.
Freddy's wrath was only secondary to what The Justice League could do to punish a squealer.
"I won't," assured Billy.
Superman's oceanic blue eyes were immovable, as if they were asking for reiteration to stamp that statement onto stone.
Billy gulped. "I promise."
Superman, seemingly appeased, nodded once. "I will hold you to that, Champion," he said, words laced with a hope that Billy didn't feel worthy of. "Very well. I think that will be all for tonight."
Billy's hopes deflated like an untied balloon sailing erratically in his head. "I-I'm sorry? You mean that's it?" There was still so much to see. Crap, he should have thought of more questions on the ride over!
"Not even close. This will be all for tonight, but we are not done. We'll be meeting again very soon."
"The Batwing's ready to take you home," said Batman
Billy's mouth bobbled like he didn't know what to say. He was getting kicked out already? Had he been rude?
Everybody was watching him, which only corked his voice further. He especially tried his best to not notice Wonder Woman lest he forget English. "That's cool, that's cool," he said agreeably.
Then a thought occurred. He bit the inside of his cheek. Hopefully none of these guys would find out that he didn't even have his learner's permit yet. "Sorry to be even more of a bother, but I don't exactly know the address to come back here. If you've got a piece of paper and a penci—"
"The Batwing will pick you up," said Batman as if he accounted for the possibility of transportation.
"But I can also fly—"
"I know. The Batwing will arrive, same rooftop in downtown Philadelphia. Tomorrow. Nine PM."
Oh boy. That was pushing it for a school night. But nobody could say no to a masked guy who sounded like he gargled sawdust and did his grocery shopping at Home Depot.
"Yes, sir," squeaked Billy, his voice coming out a few notes too high. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, trying to sound more adult. "I mean, sure. I agree to those terms."
"You can go now, then."
Oh. Just like that? Billy supposed he couldn't stay now, he had been promptly dismissed. He looked back and forth between the door and Batman. "So I'll just...show myself out, yeah, okay. Oh, and uh..." He displayed Wonder Woman's rope still binding his wrists in a silent plea.
Well, this was unexpected. All throughout the rides from Philly to here he had been preparing for an arduous, gritty interrogation that went well into the morning. The overhead light shining down. The uncomfortable wooden chair. The good cop bad cop routine. Aquaman quietly smoking a cigarette in the dark corner, ready to use his fists if necessary.
This had been...enlightening?
"Well, that was...thorough," said Barry, his eyes tracking The Champion's exit from The Hall.
"It was a test," said Bruce.
"Test?"
"Of his mettle. To see if he will actually do what we ask. Besides, I already got all the information I needed."
The Hall's front door wasn't meant to be an official entrance, of course. It was a ruse.
Bruce tapped a virtual key on his gauntlet and uploaded the camera data his facial recognition technology had collected from The Champion's passage through. Facial recognition was not the only hidden thing. Camouflaged within the stone in the porch's floor contained a pressure pad to track weight statistics. The pressure pad also had an additional feature—it scanned the soles of the shoes standing over it, making perfect renderings of footprints. Cyborg had also been transferred this data and was halfway through sorting it.
If The Champion ever showed up on this doorstep again, whether invited or not, Bruce would know.
Barry seemed confused. "Pardon me for not paying attention in class, but, uh, question. If we were going to consider him a potential nemesis too, why did we invite him here? He knows exactly where our base of operations is now."
"Don't worry," assured Bruce. "Everything is going exactly to plan."
The front door was merely one entrance to The Hall, lending to the picture of a normal estate. But every Justice League member knew the plethora of secret, more convenient entries, like the camouflaged door on the roof for the flyers, the connected hydro-tunnel deep underground for Aquaman, plus many more. The Champion would have to earn that knowledge.
And that was if he could pass their test.
Billy slipped into the snowy alley behind the Vasquez house, looking both ways to eliminate the possibility of witnesses. Satisfied, he whispered, "Shazam." He didn't waste a microsecond, making a mad dash for the house as the magic thunder boomed. The magical lightning...thing...was instantaneous, it wasn't like it would miss and not hone in on him like a heat-seeking missile if he didn't stay still for it.
He ducked beneath the kitchen window. The lights were on. At 11:30PM. There was only one reason why they would still be on after bedtime, and Vegas oddsmakers would call it a sure bet that Billy's absence had something to do with it. Rounding the house to the front door, he straightened his clothes to allay any fears he might have been mugged, but may have also been delaying the inevitable avalanche of questions awaiting his entry. He turned the handle, which was left unlocked.
In what felt like his second audition of the night, five judgmental faces from the living room rounded on him. And they were not silent.
"Billy!" said Darla, scuttling to him in her purple pajamas, holding a stuffed, threadbare bunny in a merciless chokehold.
"Billy, where have you been?" said Mary with much less enthusiasm, rising with everyone else.
"I knew we should have invested in some sort of communication system," said Eugene, holding his laptop and furiously typing with one hand. "Is Cyber Monday still on? Amazon might have deals on six-way radios or some sort of telecom transmitters..."
"And just whose credit card were you going to use?" asked Pedro.
"I—" Eugene stopped cold. Then he furiously typed again. "What are Walmart's business hours? We need Amazon gift cards."
The metal stamp of Freddy's crutch clunked through all the noise. He was the only one who seemed to be the picture of calm and collected. "Eugene, relax," he said in passing, "we've already got unlimited talk and text right in our pockets." He slapped Billy on the arm optimistically, clearly having kept the faith. "So? Risky time to come home, something big must have gone down."
Rosa and Victor were not around, which left Billy free to be a bit more candid with the superhero lingo. He blinked as if the late hour just occurred to him. "Wait, what?" He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Oh, wow, that's crazy. Didn't even realize."
"Ha!" Freddy looked over his shoulder. "Pay up, Eugene, he was out doing superhero things!"
Eugene grumbled before reluctantly digging into his pocket. "I'm pretty sure Pennsylvanian state law prohibits ten year olds from gambling."
"Pennsylvanian state law also says to quit whining."
Billy ignored the two. "Where's Rosa and Victor?"
"They went out looking for you when you didn't answer your phone," explained Mary. "Which, by the way..." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and walked to the kitchen, dialing a number.
"So what did you do?" said Freddy expectantly, a smile on his face.
I totally just met The Justice League oh my God you're not gonna believe it they tracked me down and basically kidnapped me I SAW THEIR LAIR Superman's hair was as perfect as the magazines say Wonder Woman was just perfect Aquaman totally threatened me (not sure I'm stoked about that one) Batmobile Batwing Batmobile the tires are huge they were like this big...and if I blab any of this Superman will totally melt me I'll never see The Flash coming Batman will find creative places to shove a batarang and Cyborg's arm cannons will take care of whatever is left...
"Nothing," said Billy with a shrug. "Easy night, you know. Same old small time stuff. You know."
The mirth in Freddy's smile was fading. "Oh yeah? Did you rehearse that one on your way home? Come on. It's obvious something happened."
"Yeah, yeah, he's home," Mary said in the background, pacing.
"What is it? Do you need our help?"
Pedro nodded along with Freddy's suggestion, eager to volunteer for another round.
"No, no," said Billy, wishing he was better at downplaying this. "Look, I'm tired, I'm gonna hear it from Rosa and Victor in the morning, I just want to go to bed. Good night, guys."
Mary returned, hanging up, and caught the end of the discussion.
"Billy, wait," she pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. Her doe-like eyes, confused and disbelieving, flittered searchingly as she tried to understand. Mind-reading wasn't part of her superhero repertoire, but she could make a convincing job of it. She was feeling the sting of Billy's silence, he just knew it, and guilt flooded him like Niagara Falls let loose behind his ribs. Darla, Eugene, and Pedro were perhaps a little too young to truly grasp a lot of Billy's tumultuous, complicated feelings, there were just some forms of wisdom that only came through age and experience, and Freddy could sometimes be a bit too dismissive, but never Mary. She was intuitive and wise beyond her years. Seemingly nothing got past her, and so was the case now. Billy's feet were rooted to the spot as if her non-verbalized accusation kept him there.
"I thought we made a promise," said Darla, taking Billy's hand, clutching her bunny tighter around the neck like its presence was helping her stave off a rejection. "Remember? We were all gonna work together from now on. No secrets."
Pedro wouldn't even look. His eyes were downcast, like he'd heard this kind of thing before and knew how it would play out. Billy was desperate to place a bolstering hand on Pedro's shoulder as reassurance that this was not a betrayal, but a promise had been made. There was a bigger picture in the works.
"I said nothing happened," insisted Billy, releasing Darla's hand. Of course his throat chose that exact moment to swallow in a nervous tic, signaling to everyone present that he indeed had something to hide.
Before anybody got the chance to interrogate, he turned and climbed the creaky wooden stairs. He didn't have to look back to know that five pairs of eyes were boring holes into the back of his head. They couldn't know, not yet. This was big. This was bigger than all of them. The Family Shazam were pre-schoolers to The Justice League's college varsity team. Superheroes of that high level fought the biggest battles the planet—nay, the universe—had to offer. What would happen if Billy ushered his foster siblings into a world where one of them could be hurt? The Shazam team only had one challenge under their belts. One.
He needed to think on this, he needed somewhere quiet and secluded, away from all this noise. The Justice League weren't offering a trip to Disneyland, they were offering a glorious but burdensome package of responsibility, and accountability to those responsibilities.
"Fine, then," Freddy called from below.
Billy flinched and held the banister tighter.
"You don't want to be part of a team, then don't be!"
A/N: You're all way kinder than what my update schedule deserves! My apologies (again) for such a lengthy update wait! I was never able to quarantine during this pandemic, I work at an establishment that is considered an essential service, so I never quarantined out of necessity. My hours increased quite a bit and still have, leaving me even less time than I ever had before. Forgive me, I really do still keep this story in my mind, because I am intent on completing it. I am truly floored by the support!
I kind of rushed to publish this chapter and didn't do my usual three or more edit sweeps, I only did one, so I may only catch glaring mistakes once I re-read it tomorrow, but I was just so excited to return to this.