So, this chapter is our first taste of Billy as he is in Young Justice. Enjoy!
Fawcett City, U.S.A.
October 4th, 2010
Billy is one of many students who pour out of Fawcett City Elementary School and into the chilly autumn air. He likes it, being a nameless person in the crowd. It makes him feel more normal, more like if he sticks with the crowd he may hear his mom calling him or see her looking for him. He won't, but it gives him a moment to imagine she might be there.
The moment is gone as soon as the crowd starts to disperse. Half of the students are picked up by parents and the other half walks home. Billy sticks with the half walking home as long as he can before splitting off and heading towards the east side of Fawcett City (know for its slums and abandoned/condemned buildings). No one else goes that way.
Billy walks with his head down and the hood of his aptly named hoody pulled low over his eyes. He's pretty confident in east side Fawcett City, but always better to be safe than sorry. People can be nasty.
He's so distracted that he doesn't even notice the figure standing in front of him. He accidentally bumps into the older boy, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
"Hey, watch it, Billy," the boy complains.
Billy looks up at the boy and grins, jumping to his feet and holding his hand out. "Sorry, Freddy," Billy says sheepishly. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Freddy shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. "I figured I'd come to say hi to you before my trip. I mean, how will you survive without me to keep you company for a whole week?"
"I'm sure I'll be fine," Billy says drily.
"I don't know," Freddy says. "You may die without me."
"Haha," Billy deadpans. "But seriously, have fun camping with your grandpa. Take lots of pictures for me!"
"I will," Freddy promises, shoving Billy with his shoulder a little. Billy shoves right back.
"Wanna come to my place?" Billy asks. "Will your grandpa mind?"
"Nah, I told him I was going to your place. He said that was fine. I think us not going to the same school and seeing each other less makes him more willing to let me hang out with you."
"It's not my fault you're in middle school," Billy says. "You're just too old."
"I'm like a year and a half older than you."
"Your point is…"
"It's not that big a difference. Next year we'll be in the same school anyway," Freddy dismisses. "I'll be in sixth grade and you'll be in fifth. That's pretty awesome."
"Yeah, it is," Billy agrees. "Middle school, dude! I'll be an official middle schooler."
"It's really not as exciting as it seems," Freddy says dubiously.
Billy shrugs Freddy's attitude off. They both know it's only because Freddy doesn't like school. He likes sports and superheroes. Billy know this because they're best friends, have been since Billy first started school again and they were in the same building, albeit not in the same grade even then. Freddy was the only person to not call Billy annoying back when Billy first got back to school after almost a year of missing it. He was also the only person who talked to Billy.
In turn, Billy knows one of the reasons Freddy calls Billy his best friend is because Billy was one - is one - of the only people to not be drawn in by Freddy's popularity and the fact that he's an amazing baseball player. At least that's why Freddy tells him that he chose Billy as his best friend.
"Hey, you need any help with homework?" Freddy asks.
"Nope. I just have to finish a paper due next week. I think I'll be good today. Why? Do you have any homework?" Billy asks innocently, knowing full well Freddy probably does.
"Yeah," Freddy sighs despondently and runs a hand through his brown hair. "I have a ton of science stuff to do. Grandpa says the only way I could hang out with you today was if I did some of it with you. So, wanna help?"
"I guess I can," Billy sighs.
"Don't act like you're sad about that," Freddy snaps good-naturedly. "We both know you live for science stuff."
"And history," Billy agrees. "I love history."
"Especially all those weird myths from Rome, Egypt, Greece, and stuff," Freddy says. "What's up with that, by the way?"
Billy shrugs. "My parents were archeologists," he says. "You know? So they found all sorts of stuff about ancient gods and stuff. I probably know, like, all the stories. It just makes me thinks of them, so I like to read about them."
Freddy makes a sympathetic noise. "I know what you mean. My dad used to play ball with me all the time before he and mom went to jail, and I know he's not a good guy, but I like baseball because it reminds me of when things were okay."
Freddy always knows just what to say to make Billy feel better, or at least take his mind off of things. Freddy is the only person who knows Billy is homeless. He's the only person Billy trusts not to tell. Freddy was going to when Billy first told him, but Bill had explained… not everything, but enough to convince his friend he'd be fine alone.
Freddy still worries though, which is why he comes over so often. Billy thinks it's nice, having someone care about him so much. It's also kind of funny to him, that Freddy thinks he needs taking care of. Billy is Captain Marvel, for goodness' sake! Not that Freddy knows that, of course.
"Hey, we're here!" Freddy exclaims. "Come on!"
"Wait up," Billy squawks as Freddy run into the run-down dirty yellow apartment building ahead of him. "It's my apartment!"
"I'm not waiting for you!" Freddy yells without turning. "You're so slow!"
"Am not!" Billy shouts back, running to catch up to Freddy, who is already heading up the rickety stairs.
"Are too!"
Billy slows down after a moment. He knows he won't catch up to Freddy. He also knows Freddy has an extra key, so he won't need to wait to go into Billy's apartment.
Freddy has only asked how Billy manages to stay hidden from building inspectors and keep the heat, electricity, and water running. Billy explains it by saying he hides and he must just be lucky, respectively. It's a good answer, but it's not true. It's all magic. Magic keeps it warm and keeps the building inspectors from even going to his floor. They just skip it like it's not even there.
Billy sometimes wonders if part of why the Wizard chose him is because he already has a natural affinity for magic, just needed training. Billy knows all his magic (in his mortal form) is enhanced by Captain Marvel, but it's still his, not Captain Marvel's magic. He just has the proper tools and books to use it now.
"You coming?" Freddy shouts from a few flights of stairs up.
"Coming!" Billy shouts back, starting to walk again. He'd stopped without even noticing, too caught up in his own head to notice. "I'm coming, Freddy!"
Fawcett City, U.S.A.
October 5th, 2010
It's cold, even colder than it had been yesterday. It's the type of cold that settles in your bones and makes you wish for summer. Normally Billy loves autumn. The color of the leaves. The cheeriness that seems almost contagious. But today he just wishes that it could be warm. He doesn't like it to be this cold. It almost feels like the weather is warning him. About what, he doesn't know.
He doesn't dwell on vaguely unsettled the feeling that's been hitting him since he woke up. It's probably nothing but paranoia. Or maybe there's a storm coming. Billy always gets kinda uneasy before a storm hits Fawcett City, even when he doesn't know a storm is going to hit.
He leaves the schoolyard and heads west, towards the middle school nearby. With luck, Freddy won't mind if Billy comes over to his house.
"Hey, do you know where Freddy is?" Billy asks a grimy teenager smoking something that's definitely not a cigarette. The teenager definitely goes to the high school nearby, but almost everyone in this area of the city knows who Freddy is. Freddy is just that type of charismatic person.
The teen leers at Billy like he's trying to scare him. Billy doesn't react, despite the teen gross yellow teeth being bared at him in a feral grin.
The teen moves back and nods to himself as if Billy's passed a test.
"Tall kid? Baseball cap?"
Billy nods eagerly.
"He got in this old guys car after school got out."
"Duh," Billy says to himself slapping his forehead. Freddy started his camping trip today after school. Billy should have remembered that. Man, this cold must really be messing with him. "Thanks, dude."
"No problem, kid," the teen says. "Have a good one."
He goes back to smoking. Billy turns around. Now what will he do all day? Yeah, his apartment is warm, but that doesn't mean he wants to spend the whole day alone in it. Maybe he should go shopping. But he doesn't really have anything other than a few dollars left from his last shopping trip. He'll need to find a way to earn some more cash. Mowing lawns won't exactly work this time of year.
Maybe he can rake leaves?
Ugh. That means he has to do that today, make enough to last for a least a month's worth of groceries, and extra for new winter gear. Then again, if he works quickly enough, he may even get some extra spending money to afford food other than ramen noodles, cereal, mac n cheese, and a few fruits and veggies. Eating healthier food is always nice. Maybe he can even get some frozen pizza.
Plans made, Billy takes off for the nearest residential neighborhood he knows is full of adults who find it cute when kids come and ask to do jobs like rake leaves, mow lawns, weed gardens, and shovel snow.
Billy's pretty sure he has half of that neighborhood he's a kid that lives there. It's one of his favorite places to live. Some of the people even give him snacks and lemonade when he works.
Afterword, he can patrol as Captain Marvel, then he'll go shopping. Or he'll go shopping tomorrow if anything big happens while he's Captain Marvel. He doesn't think there'll be anything more than a few shoplifters today though. Even the criminal element in Fawcett City know when it's too cold to commit a crime. Cold as it is, autumn and winter are the slowest seasons to fight crime.
Billy is so glad he lives in Fawcett City where the criminals are reasonable and know when it's too cold to be committing a crime. He can't imagine how annoying it must be for Batman to fight crime in Gotham City in the middle of winter since crime never slows down in Gotham.
"Hey," a voice says, and Billy feels a hand land on his shoulder. Billy jumps about a hundred feet in the air and lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp. "Sorry, sorry!" the voice says quickly.
"It's fine," Billy says, catching his breath and looking over the owner of the voice. A kid with messy black hair - possibly a young teen - wearing sunglasses and relaxed clothing (Billy's leaning towards him being a kid. Probably twelve. Too short to be a teenager). "You just surprised me."
"Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people," the boys says ruefully, running one of his hands through his hair in a gesture that reminds Billy of Freddy. "Sorry again. I was just wondering if you could help me."
"Main Street is that way," Billy says immediately, pointing north. "Go there and you can pretty much find wherever you're looking for without too much trouble."
"No, I just needed help finding someone who goes to the elementary school," the boy says. "William Thomas Batson? Maybe you know him?"
Bily looks over the boy more closely. It doesn't seem like he's looking for trouble. You can never be too careful though.
"Why do you need him?" Billy asks. "Do you know him?"
"Nah," the kid dismisses. "My guardian had an old letter from the kid's mom, Marilyn Batson. He figured William may want to see it."
And Billy's tempted to ask how they even know where he is; it's not like he's an official student - not that any of his teachers or the other students know that. But at the mention of his mom, that thought is erased from his mind.
"I'm William. I prefer Billy though." Billy holds out his hand.
"Well, that was serendipitous," the boys says, grabbing Billy's hand firmly. "I'm Dick."
Billy doesn't manage to stop himself from snorting.
"I'm sorry," he says right away. Not for thinking it's funny, necessarily, but for being rude and laughing about it.
"It's fine," the boy says. "I've heard pretty much everything, believe me. Anywho, Dick Grayson, as I said."
Billy does a double-take. "Wha- Dick Grayson!" he whispers furiously, looking around. "Like, Dick Grayson?!"
The boy- Dick Grayson, looks amused. Something about the expression combined with the sunglasses is familiar, but for the life of him, Billy can't quite put his finger on why. It bugs him, and he's sure he'll think about it later, but for now, he's too focused on the immediate issues. Like that fact that Dick-freaking-Grayson is looking for him.
"Yes," Dick says, amused. He even takes his sunglasses off briefly, and sure enough, it's the teenager. Billy may not have a TV or watch the news, but he knows what Dick Grayson looks like. Mainly because Bruce Wayne funds the Justice League publicly and that means he's pretty familiar with both of their images.
"My mom sent a letter to Bruce Wayne?" is his next question.
"They met abroad before your parents were married," Dick explains. Anyway, I'm gonna call Bruce and have him meet me here." At Billy's confused look, Dick looks away from the phone he pulled out a moment ago. "He was looking for you closer to the elementary school."
"Ah," Billy says.
Dick speaks briefly into the cell phone before pulling it away from his ear and hanging up.
"He'll be here in a minute," Dick informs Billy. "You don't mind waiting here?"
"No," Billy says.
"Good."
A few moments later a tall, broad man in a suit appears. He's wearing sunglasses like Dick. Unlike Dick, he seems uncomfortable. It isn't hard for Billy to tell this is really Bruce Wayne, which automatically makes him more relaxed. Bruce Wayne funds the League, Batman even approves of him doing so, so that means Bruce Wayne isn't a bad person. Batman would never associate with someone if they had something even vaguely shady in their past.
"Hello," Bruce Wayne says. "You must be William?"
His voice is surprisingly gentle, considering his size. Billy still can't get over the fact that Bruce Wayne came to Fawcett City just to find Billy and let him look at an old letter from his mom, even though the letter certainly isn't anything Billy needs to see.
"Yes," Billy says. "I prefer Billy though, if that's okay, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce Wayne seems surprised by how eager Billy is. Or Maybe he's just surprised Billy's so trusting. Anyone who has ever seen Billy as a street kid is surprised by that. It's not that Billy's that trusting; he's not. Billy's just good at reading people. Also, he's not nervous around Bruce Wayne because Justice League funding. Not that Bruce Wayne knows that. Even though it's public, it's not exactly common knowledge outside of League members who their main funder is.
"I have the letter your mother sent me, Billy, if you want to see it?"
"Yes, I'd really love that, Mr. Wayne," Billy says.
"She sent it to me right after you were born," Mr. Wayne says. "It ended up getting lost in my desk, which is why I didn't find it until recently."
"Were you and her friends?" Billy asks. "How did you meet?"
"I'd like to think so," Mr. Wayne says, a surprisingly fond look on his face. "We met in Peru before she or your father were going to be married."
"That's interesting," Billy says honestly. "What was the letter she sent you about?"
Mr. Wayne sighs deeply. Something in Billy's gut twists uncomfortably.
"It was about you. I mentioned she sent it right after you were born. I have it here if you'd like to see it now?"
"Yes, please, Mr. Wayne," Billy says.
Mr. Wayne pulls a piece of paper out of his suit pocket and holds it out to Billy. Billy grabs it gently with shaking hands.
It still smells like her perfume. It's a reminder that she had been real, once. It's nice because even though Billy logically knows she'd been real before she died, having a reminder is nice. He misses her so much. Her and his dad.
He unfolds the paper with a gentleness that surprises even him. Her handwriting is just like he remembers it being from the notes she'd leave for him on his lunch box and hidden inside his books or even just shopping lists on the fridge. He spends what's probably more time than necessary just looking at it without reading.
When he finally does begin to read the letter, he almost drops it a moment later. He fumbles for a moment before regaining his grip and reading even faster.
No. No no no no no no no no. This can't… this can't be true. (But it has to be, a voice whispers in his mind. This is her handwriting. She wouldn't lie about it.)
Oh, god. His mom had written to Bruce Wayne. His mom had told Bruce Wayne Billy was his son. But it just can't be - Billy refuses to believe it's true. His parents would have told him if it was true. They wouldn't have kept it a secret. Why would his dad even love him and let Billy call him that if he wasn't Billy's real dad?
This has to be a lie, a trick. It can't be true. It just can't.
Billy's dad is C.C. Batson, not some rich guy his mom probably only knew for a few months in another country.
"This isn't true," Billy says, ashamed by how much his voice is shaking. "You can't be my dad. My dad is C.C. Batson. You're lying. I know it."
His voice breaks on the last word. Billy hopes neither of them notices it. He ignores how hurt Mr. Wayne looks and how shocked Dick Grayson looks.
(Billy knows this isn't a lie. Somehow, someway, he knows this isn't a lie. He just doesn't want to believe it.)
"I'm sorry," Mr. Wayne says honestly. "I really am. But your mother was one of the most honest people I ever knew. I don't think she's lying."
Billy refuses to even think about this. (He ignores how similar he looks to Bruce Wayne. How he's even more similar to Bruce Wayne that C.C. Batson. Really, if he was with both of them, people would assume he's Bruce Wayne's son, not his dads.)
Billy shakes his head desperately. "No. No! You have to be lying. I don't believe you."
"Listen, Billy," Dick begins. "How about this. You know what a paternity test is, right?"
"Yes," Billy says shortly. "I'm not dumb."
"Then take one," Dick says. "If it matches then that means you're Bruce's son, biologically. Your dad is still your dad. Biology doesn't change that."
Mr. Wayne adjusts his jacket, seeming spectacularly uncomfortable. "I'd been planning one of those already. I don't think she's lying, but maybe she was wrong. I figured you'd like to know the truth."
And Billy does want to know the truth, even if it's a truth he doesn't like.
"I'll take the test," Billy says, the anger from earlier evaporating as suddenly as it had appeared. Now he just feels kind of tired. He's glad this street is empty. That no one can have possibly seen this.
"I brought my friend, Dr. Leslie Thompkins with me. She has all the equipment to do the test in my hotel room. We can go back there if that's okay with you," Mr. Wayne says. It doesn't really sound like a question, but Billy can tell it is a question.
"Okay. Okay. Are we walking?"
"I have a car?" Mr. Wayne suggests.
And the first rule of being a street kid is you don't get in a strangers car. Billy knows this. It's one of the first lessons you learn, either from getting in a strangers car or hearing the horror stories of what happens when you get in a strangers car. Billy may not like Bruce Wayne right now, but he knows he won't try anything. He knows Bruce Wayne is a good person. And even if he wasn't a good person and Billy was dumb enough to get in the car, Billy can protect himself, both with Captain Marvel and the magic he always has at his disposal.
"We can take that," Billy says. "I mean if that's what you want to do?"
Mr. Wayne smiles slightly and Dick Grayson beams at him.
What do you think? In character? How about Freddy? I debated, but in the end, I decided to make him older than Billy. So Billy has just turned ten as of three days ago in this story and Freddy is about 11 1/2. Think it works? Also, how did Billy and Bruce's interaction seem? I like to write it, but I don't think I'm very good at interactions like the one they're having? Also, does Billy seem a little too street smart? Sorry for a quiz at the end of this. Feel free to ignore me. :)