So, a little shorter than I usually write, but I didn't want to add more because it kinda ruined the flow.
I'm also so sorry for the long break too! I have no excuse. I was going to update last night, but then I needed a new laptop battery, so... anywho, enjoy!
Fawcett City, U.S.A.
October 6th, 2010
"Don't tell Alfred I'm not folding my clothes," Dick says over his shoulder, throwing everything unceremoniously into his suitcase. "He'd throw a fit."
Billy smiles faintly. "I won't."
"Thanks, Billy. I'd really rather live to see tomorrow."
Billy nods even though Dick isn't looking at him. He waits a moment, thinking deeply.
"Do you think Mr. Wayne will let me stop by where I was staying before and grab a few things?"
"Bruce," Dick corrects mildly. "And yeah, he'll let you. As long as it doesn't take too long. We don't want to miss our flight. I mean, he could just reschedule it since he owns the plane, but that's a hassle. Don't even get me started."
Billy feels very, very out of his depth. Here Dick is casually talking about the airplane Mr. Wayne - Bruce (that sounds weird even in Billy's head) owns. He's talking about how simple it is for him and Billy's never seen anything like it.
He likes Dick, but seeing him like that makes it hard to imagine he used to be a normal kid. Billy knows Dick isn't spoiled (or at least not very much), but he sure sounds like it when he talks like that.
"That's good," Billy says. He's not sure what else there is to say.
"Bruce is pretty asterous," Dick says, finally looking at Billy and smiling gently. "It's really not as bad as it seems."
There's that word again. Where the heck has Billy heard it before?
"I made it up," Dick says. "The word. It's the opposite of disaster. Take away the dis and it leaves aster."
And if that logic isn't shockingly familiar. But Billy still can't quite put his finger on where he's heard it before. This is going to bug him, he can tell. But he'll figure it out eventually. He always does.
"It makes sense," Billy admits, shrugging his shoulders.
"I know," Dick agrees brightly. He sits down next to Billy and nudges his shoulder. "I can tell you about the others that I've invented later if you want?"
"I'd like that."
Dick beams.
There's a light knock on the door. Dick jumps off the bed - landing lightly on the floor - and answers the door. Mr. Wayne is standing there in a suit, 100% more expensive than any piece of clothing Billy has ever seen in his life. Heck, even Dick is wearing designer clothes and shoes. He suddenly feels very underdressed in his faded jeans and a threadbare red hoodie.
"You all packed?" Mr. Wayne- Bruce asks.
"Yup," Dick says.
"You folded everything?" he asks, raising an eyebrow dubiously.
"Of course I did," Dick says, tone offended, but not overly so. Mostly it's mild. Dick is a good liar. Billy's not sure what that means for him.
"Just make sure Alfred doesn't find out."
"Duh," Dick returns. "I don't have a death wish, B."
Mr.- Bruce smiles at Dick, then looks at Billy. "Do you need anything? All you had when we picked you up was your backpack."
"Yes," Billy says in what he hopes is a confident tone of voice. "Could we go to where I live? I have some things there I can't lose."
"Of course we can," Bruce says. He looks a little perplexed. "I wouldn't keep you from getting anything you need."
He doesn't say want. It makes sense, because right now more than anything, Billy just wants his parents back. Mr. Wayne can't do that.
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," Billy says. He takes a deep breath, already feeling much better about how his day is going so far.
It doesn't take long to check out of the hotel, and by the time they exit the building the car Bruce had driven when he first found Billy is waiting for them. Alfred climbs into the driver's seat and Dr. Thompkins joins him in the passenger seat. Billy, Dick, and Bruce sit in the back.
So far, it's the most awkward car ride Billy has ever experienced in his life.
"Where were you staying, Billy?"
"At the apartment on the corner of Oak Drive and Kensington Street," Billy says almost instantly. For once his encyclopedic knowledge of the city is being put to good use. Not that helping people who are lost isn't good use, of course. "Just get on Broadway, turn right on 10th Ave, left onto Kensington Street and you'll find it."
Alfred puts the directions to use. Bruce and Dick stare at him along with Dr. Thompkins.
"I'm good with directions," Billy says weakly, smiling at them in embarrassment.
In no time at all Alfred pulls the car to a stop right in front of Billy's apartment building. Having them see it, he's almost embarrassed. It does look kind of like a dump, though Billy has never said it. To be fair, his apartment doesn't, but that's magic for you.
"May I go in alone?" Billy asks quietly.
Bruce looks like he's going to say no, but Dick pokes the man and gives him a very pointed look. Dr. Thompkins whispers a sharp: "Bruce!"
"Yes," the man finally says, albeit reluctantly. "Just… be careful."
Billy nods seriously and jumps out of the car before disappearing inside. It's strange; he's only been away for one night and already he feels a strange nostalgia build up in him at the sight of the stained hallways and stairs.
He gets to his apartment quickly and whispers the magic word. The door pops open easily. There's key too, but Billy lets Freddy have it. Freddy just thinks that Billy has another key.
He loves this apartment, and he really doesn't want to leave it. Yeah, he's alone and it's sad, but this is his. He fixed it up. He made everything work (okay, magic did that, but it's Billy's magic, not Shazam's borrowed magic that creates Captain Marvel) so he's very proud of it.
He knows that Dick and Bruce will think he's just been sleeping in a cold, junky, moldy building. For a moment - just a moment - Billy wonders if he should tell Bruce and Dick about his magic. Not about being Captain Marvel - not yet. But. About him. His magic… it's a big part of his life. His lifestyle. He loves his magic.
At the same time though, Billy knows it's too soon. He doesn't think Dick and Bruce are bad people. In fact, he thinks quite the opposite. But he also doesn't really know them yet.
All he knows about Dick is that he likes to make up words that Billy knows aren't real but he swears he's heard somewhere before and that he's nice. Funny too.
Bruce is different. He knows even less about the man. Really knows. Because he knows a lot that's public (or less public, but still everyone in the Justice League knows) about the man. What he does know is he seems nice. But plenty of people Billy's met have seemed nice. You don't have to be nice to be a good guy.
Billy shakes his head to force himself back to the present. He needs to focus and hurry. He doesn't want want to have Bruce and Dick come looking for him and seeing his apartment. That would take some explaining.
Everything is just the same as the last time he saw it, yesterday morning. His small pink piggy bank with a few dollars is still in one corner of the room. A stack of books is in another corner. The picture frame showing his parents smiling and hugging a younger him is on the kitchen counter. The shoebox (filled with several questionable magic items) is still in its place on the counter.
Billy quickly stacks his books and tosses them in the big duffle bag that he keeps his clothes in. The throws his piggy bank in, along with the shoebox and picture of his parents. Then he zips the bag closed. It's heavy and very full, but Billy's unwilling to leave anything behind. Even though chances are he'll still come back to this apartment or even use it occasionally.
He hefts the bag over his shoulder. It's heavy, but he doesn't want to use a spell to make it lighter. It would be suspicious for something so full to be easy for him to carry, especially since Billy is pretty short and weak, at least physically in this form.
He stops in the doorway and takes one last look at the place that has been his home for the better part of three years. He's going to miss it. A lot.
"What am I thinking?" Billy asks himself, slapping his forehead. "I need to grab my Justice League communicator. Don't want to forget that."
Billy walks back into the tiny kitchen and opens a drawer, pulling it out. He shoves it in his pocket but mutes the ringer. Bruce definitely knows what they are and it wouldn't do for him to find Billy with one.
He stops again in the doorway and smiles sadly at the apartment.
"I guess this is goodbye," he says. "I'll miss you."
No more hanging out with Freddy here - no more hanging out with Freddy much at all. How is Billy even going to tell Freddy what's going on? The older boy is on a camping trip with his grandpa for the next week!
Billy will have to ask Bruce if he can call them once they get back; Freddy's grandpa doesn't own a phone except for a landline. It's outdated, but Billy finds it nice. Even if Freddy disagrees.
Billy wipes a few tears away roughly on his sleeve before closing the door and heading back to the car where everyone is waiting for him.
He pulls open the trunk where the other suitcases are being kept and puts his duffle bag down next to the carefully before getting back into the backseat with Dick and Bruce.
"Get everything you need?" Dick asks.
"Yeah," Billy says quietly, looking out the window at the street as it starts passing by. "I got everything I need." Not everything he wants though. Never everything he wants.
"Good," Bruce says kindly. He doesn't put a hand on Billy's shoulder even though Billy can see he's about to in the reflection of the window. For that, Billy's thankful. He doesn't really want to be touched right now.
"Mr. Wayne?" he asks without turning around. "Do you think, I have a friend and I don't want him to worry about me. Could I call him at some point?"
"Of course. Do you want to call him now?"
Billy shakes his head. They're getting farther out of the city now, closer to the airport.
"He doesn't have a phone. His grandpa doesn't either. They only have a landline and they're camping this week. I'll do it later."
"Okay," Bruce says.
No one else talks. Billy's thankful for that. He's still processing… well, everything. He just needs some time.
They pull up shortly, directly onto the airfield and in front of a rather large plane.
Dick unbuckles and jumps out his door as soon as the car is pulled to a complete stop. Billy gets out of his door slower. He also slams his door shut a little harder than necessary, but no one needs to know that.
"Wanna race to the plane?" Dick asks, popping up next to Billy.
Billy shakes his head. "Not really, Dick."
"It'll be fun, I promise. You just need to relax for a bit. Take your mind off things. It does help," Dick tells him earnestly.
"I have to carry my stuff," Billy says. He does need to, even though relaxing and not caring for just a few moments sounds amazing.
"Bruce will get it," Dick says. "The manual labor will do him good. He hardly exercises."
Something about the way Dick says that and the way his eyes gleam, it strikes Billy as strange. Familiar. And really, Billy doesn't believe it at all. Bruce Wayne is a giant.
Still.
"Okay," Billy sighs, putting on a show. "Three two one go!"
He takes off before Dick has a chance to say anything else.
"Cheater," Dick says, racing past Billy. Man, he's fast. Billy puts on another burst of speed determined, if not to catch up, at least to not lose so miserably.
Everything still sounding good?