Billy's mind stayed in its haze. Lying motionless in bed made his thoughts run wild in a flurry, recalling every second of what transpired that night. It was hard to tell just when he fell asleep, but come morning he learned quickly that it was not nearly enough.
He tried to be far away and not present when Rosa and Victor met him at the bottom of the stairs and let him have it. They re-stated their rules in their own compassionate way, but they were definitely not happy. Their combined tones were stern, reminding him that they would not allow their fairness to be taken advantage of. Guilt heated Billy's blood. Rosa and Victor's disappointment that he'd done this sort of thing again was brutal. They thought he was lapsing back into his old ways, and he just wanted the wooden floor boards to melt and let him sink like a stone. His foster parents least of all could understand exactly what was going on and it was one of the most painful silences Billy had to endure.
He could only mumble an apology to his shoes, accept without protest that he was grounded for the weekend, and slump to the kitchen. Ignoring his sibling's probing gazes, he swiped an orange juice off the table and gulped half the glass before remembering that he had brushed his teeth immediately prior. He grimaced and shook off the sharp tang that only comes when citrus collides with mint.
He was the last to leave the house, shrugging on his well-worn backpack while the rest of the crew congregated, keeping conversations between themselves. Freddy lagged, no surprise, thanks to his crutch. Billy shut the entrance door behind him and descended the groaning porch stairs, concentrating on the slushy pathway to avoid awkward eye-contact.
A few beats passed. Once Freddy deemed the others out of earshot, he spun around. "You know what, I can't believe you. I thought we were already over this."
Billy sighed and closed his eyes. "Freddy, what are you talking about," he said tiredly, voice still creaky from lack of sleep. He wasn't in the mood.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Your head getting too big again? Is that it? Or-or—" Freddy struggled to coherently verbalize his thoughts, he seemed agitated to the point where he was talking off the cuff—"or realized that you can't stand other people stealing your thunder?"
Billy felt the spurs of that accusation dig in and he was wide awake now. He stopped walking. "Hey, hey, wait just a second—"
"Have we been cut from the team?"
"What? Why on earth would you think that?"
"I know the others are new at this. But I've been with you from the beginning. You think anything can surprise me after the whole Baldy McGlowstick incident this week? Does any of that mean anything to you? Stop hiding it. Something happened last night, and you're going to tell me now."
Billy rolled his eyes and marched past Freddy. "We're gonna be late," he grumbled.
Clack, clack, clack. Freddy caught up, matching Billy's footsteps. "Oh, a fine thanks for everything I've done for you, really, you're welcome!"
"Stop making this about you, it's not a big deal."
"Ohh, so risking my life is just a given for you, is it? Well, let me just paint a bigger target on my chest next time!"
"I didn't mean you, you idiot! I meant me being late last night."
"You made this a big deal when you suddenly decided yesterday that you were calling all the shots, kept us in the dark, and went back on the oath we all pledged."
"Freddy, just shut up." Billy was almost clenching his teeth from the anger he was holding back.
Eugene and Pedro had slowed and were watching.
"We even did a hand-pile on it. A hand-pile!" Freddy whirled and sarcastically clenched his fists to the heavens. "Is nothing sacred anymore?"
"Stop making such a hassle over nothing! You're being stupid!" Billy looked at the rest of his foster siblings gawking, including Mary and Darla who had overheard the commotion more than thirty feet away. "All of you! I lost track of time, that was it. Just get over it, okay?!"
Mary's lips were parted disbelievingly, while Darla ashamedly chewed her fingernail. Pedro and Eugene, heads low and intimidated, turned and left.
Billy didn't care one bit. He huffed and turned his back to everyone, crossing the street.
"Billy? Billy, where are you going?" called Mary.
"I'm walking to school!"
"Billy, come back!" shouted Darla. "Freddy didn't mean it!"
"Yes I did!"
Billy ignored them, determined to keep his pace swift and purposeful. Deep down, somewhere beyond where all his teenage rage was born, he knew the younger ones were innocent, but it made him feel justified in his anger that his foster siblings be a package deal. They wanted to exist solely as a group? Fine. Let them. That just left him all the more agency to break rank and make decisions on his own.
He trudged across Fawcett Central's patchy lawn. When you are already twenty minutes late for the bell, a sense of less rush overcomes you, rather than if you were sprinting to make the last-minute buzzer. Late was late. What was five more minutes going to do?
The white-hot burn from the argument had cooled since then—and Billy would be loath to admit he would have preferred riding a warm bus—but that didn't mean he wasn't seething still. The others, Freddy especially, ruined what should have been a monumental moment for him last night.
They could have all the hate in the world, fine. But to have Superman never forgive you? Billy didn't think he could stand the everlasting shame.
He mentally floated for the rest of the day, both the Justice League and his annoyance with his family taking pretty much all of real-estate in his head—President Martin Van Boring, something something re-established the two-party system and the something something, add vacant nod.
Billy even got detention for his tardiness, but that was fine, too. Not like "rendezvousing with the greatest super heroes Earth has ever known" would be a valid, or believable, excuse. Big plus, facing anybody from home would be further delayed, so everything worked out anyway.
He had a lot of time to think things through in the dead-silent detention classroom that he shared with three other students that afternoon. He tried to ignore Ramon's soft snores nearby, which were muffled into the backpack the kid was using as a pillow.
If the Justice League intended to recruit Billy and he accepted, did that just mean only he was allowed to be a member? Was he a package deal with his siblings, or would The Justice League only allow one inductee?
You know what? Maybe this whole blow-up was for the best. There was clearly a flaw in the Family Shazam's concept of trust. Better for something like this to have come to fruition now than later. Could Billy secretly go rogue and get away with leading a double life? Part time Shazam Family superheroing, part time Justice League?
The late-afternoon sun was gentle and dim by the time Billy shoved apart the double doors of Fawcett Central, his crimes against schooldom repaid. Shadows grew longer as he made the dismal trek home. He wished the sidewalk could just turn into a reversed conveyor belt so that no progress was made.
Home came way too soon. Billy opened the door and a warm, salty-savoury, inviting smell of beef stew enveloped him, promising to banish the wintery chill his rosed cheeks absorbed. Victor was in the kitchen. He placed a lid over a steaming pot on the stove and leaned into view when he heard the front door close.
"Home time was an hour ago, bud, where you been?"
Billy was shrugging off his coat. "I was tardy and got detention. I'm sorry." He really did mean it, too.
Rosa stepped into view from the dining room. She exchanged a concerned look with Victor, nervously rubbing the necklace at her throat. Billy wished he could have said something in that moment to quell their worries, but instead what he said was, "Don't worry about me."
Vague. Noncommittal. Could he have said anything worse? He meant to reassure them that they were doing an amazing job, more amazing than he deserved, but somehow the words got lost and he couldn't recover.
Victor breathed heavily through his nose, like he wanted to say more but an inner dilemma warred behind his eyes. "Dinner's ready. Could you help Pedro set the table, please?" He returned to the stove.
Billy obeyed in an instant, wanting to prove that he was still entirely on their side. Actions speak louder than words and all that. Even when taking half of Pedro's plate stack, Pedro did not look him in the eye and quietly kept to his own workload. Billy tried a reassuring smile as a show of no hard feelings, he hadn't quite gotten the hang of apologizing, but Pedro made no turns or accidental gazes. His face wasn't clenched and tense like he was angry. Rather, it looked put-out, like a kid who got told by his older brother that Santa Claus wasn't real.
Dinner, thankfully, gave Billy somewhat of a reprieve. Eight people meant more chances for attention to be taken away from him. In truth, he felt almost…invisible the whole time. No one really acknowledged him, except maybe for when Victor passed him the bread basket with buns for mopping up leftover gravy, or when Mary had the ladle and asked if Billy wanted seconds. Freddy seemed to be ripping his bread with a tad more gusto than necessary. Something was still brewing beneath that curly patch of hair, that was for sure.
To avoid getting cornered by anybody and somehow delay his second meeting with The Justice League that night (a thought that still made Billy breathless), he announced he was turning in early. He could have just gone upstairs without doing so, but it seemed like no one could ever just simply disappear in Vasquez household without being questioned as to your whereabouts. There were eyes everywhere.
"Did you not get any homework to do?" asked Rosa.
"No, I got it all done in detention." Which was the truth, honest it was.
Rosa looked like she wanted to say something more, her lips were tight. Ultimately, though, she just said, "Okay. Good night, Billy. I heard you didn't sleep well."
Well then, the Vasquez household also appeared to have a mole infestation. Billy wasn't bothered to play detective and scope out the tattler, though, and went upstairs to his and Freddy's room. Thankfully, Freddy wasn't there, he remained downstairs watching T.V., arguing with Eugene about who some reality-show mystery singer concealed in a mascot costume could be.
There was still two hours left to go, but it still didn't feel like enough time, Billy became anxious all of a sudden. He wanted to do something to prepare, like packing a bag, doing some push-ups to make his muscles look extra muscley, or something, but he didn't need a change of clothes, he wasn't staying overnight, the Shazam swag pack came with costume change included and the premium muscle package.
"I'm telling you, it's Sisqo!" Eugene's far-away voice floated from one floor below.
"Sisqo?!" shot Freddy incredulously. "You weren't even a fetus when he had his only hit, how would you know who he is? Are you even supposed to be listening to his only hit?"
Billy swung the door shut. These distractions were such a nuisance, how was a person supposed to have a crisis in peace around here?!
One hour and a half crisis-in-peace later…
Lights Out was twenty minutes in and Freddy's delicate snores made their debut. Billy had stayed under his covers the entire time, back turned to the bedroom door so as to appear fast asleep, street clothes concealed, praying the hood of his pullover wasn't creating a telltale lump on the back of his neck. Freddy had loped into the room none-the-wiser and got into his own bed without a word.
Billy listened closely, staying still in the darkness for a few minutes longer just in case. Satisfied with the rhythm and timing of Freddy's breathing, he very slowly pulled the sheets back, taking the greatest of care to not even let them rustle. When you were a jailbird escaping Alcatraz, the lightest of sounds sounded like trumpets revealing your location.
Billy twisted and gracefully lowered to the floor.
Freddy was still sound asleep just behind him.
Releasing the breath he'd been holding, Billy looked down at the maze floorboards before him. Oh, in daytime they were easy enough to cross: just walk. But at night? When every creak and every groan would be a wailing ambulance siren? The Champion could fly. Billy could not. To become The Champion, a very loud, very bright lightning strike would have to crash through the ceiling. Instant no, it could not be done here. Billy would just have to pray that the last hour and a half was not spent in vain memorizing and testing which floorboards creaked and which were the safe zones.
Billy stopped to listen again.
Complete silence. Good.
He took another quiet step. And then another. So far so good, every socked footfall was gentle and precise.
Then, an ugly dread dawned on him. Complete silence? Freddy's snoring had ceased.
Billy made a cautious turn. A pair of beady, dark eyes were watching him in the darkness, trained.
"And just where are you going?" asked a wide-awake Freddy casually.
Billy's heart puttered. "I was…I was going to get a drink of water."
"Yeah-huh. Didn't know that required dress code." Freddy eyed the hoodie and jeans.
"I was tired and just fell asleep without changing. Go back to sleep." Billy took much less care with the floorboards now that he no longer had cover.
Freddy sat upright and swooped out of bed rather angrily, limping over to Billy, not bothering to grab his crutch first. "Dude, you've been caught, you really expect me to believe any of that shit spewing from your mouth right now?"
"Will you shut up, you'll wake everyone."
"So? No skin off my nose if you get in trouble for sneaking out. In fact, I was the one to stop you. I'll be a hero to Rosa and Victor."
Billy just itched to punch that smug look off of Freddy's face. Heat boiled under his collar. Freddy was going to ruin everything! All because of his stupid pride.
"So, for the last time, where are you going?" demanded Freddy. He hobbled closer and stood as tall as he could, almost meeting Billy eye to eye, defiant.
"If you don't get out of my way, I swear I'm going to break your nose."
"Oh yeah? Well then, put your money where your mouth is, huh?" Freddy challenged, unflinching. "Come on. Say it. Say the magic word and let's really see how our super hero forms go toe-to toe, huh?"
They entered a steely stare-down. Billy's jaw ticked, greatly tempted to let off some steam in spectacular, lightning-fueled fashion. His fists were clenched. His shoulders squared. What he wouldn't give to prove it…
Precious time passed. Much too precious. "Don't you dare think of following me," he said. "I'll know." And he turned his back.
"Fight me like a man, you coward," Freddy hissed as loud as he dared.
Billy walked away, sparing not a single glance back or acknowledgement. As far as he was concerned, the room he just vacated was empty. Feeling his way down the dark stairs, he made it to the kitchen, which was luckily illuminated by some helpful moonlight. Any moment felt like the one where somebody in the house would stop him, like a voice from the shadows or a touch of the shoulder.
Not wanting to push that stroke of luck any further, Billy swiped a set of house keys from the hanger, carefully unlocked the back door and slipped outside, taking care to lock the door properly behind him and test the knob once to be sure. If the house got robbed during his time away, he'd never forgive himself for leaving the door unlocked and everyone inside vulnerable.
Satisfied, Billy made a mad dash to at least put a city block between him and the house before transforming, to minimize the risk even further. All the way he kept swiping at his drippy nose which he would have absolutely insisted was caused by the cold if anyone were around to ask. His teeth hurt, they were so clenched from the rage he was trying to forget and leave behind. But for every step he took, the anger just followed.
He never signed for a team-up in the first place anyway. Desperation in the heat of the Dr. Sivana battle had made him loopy. Taking on five magic leeches was too many too soon.
"SHAZAM!"
A/N: Are ya'll kidding me, 108 Favorites?! My heart sings! I am unworthy! This is now officially my most favorited story on my account. I am so grateful!
Also, I could've sworn I only had maybe half a year's absence. When I looked at the last update, I was floored. Floored. A year and a half?! I clearly do not have a good grip on the passage of time. My fullest apologies, I'm still here!