I am so, so sorry for how long this took! I don't even have much work to get this ready for publishing, so I have no excuse. It's just been a rough few months, you know? It shouldn't ever be thing long to post again, so to all those who are sticking around to read this new chapter, thank you from the bottom of my heart. It's not as long as normal, so I'm also sorry about that. That said, enjoy this please!
Wayne Private Jet, Somewhere Above the U.S.A.
October 6th, 2010
Billy presses his forehead against the window and closes his eyes. He loves flying. He really does. But… he wishes that he wasn't up in the air because he has to go live in Gotham City. Fawcett is his home. It always will be. Nothing can ever change that for him. It's beginning to feel more and more like this isn't his choice though. Because it isn't.
He's warming up to the whole idea, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy or like it. It just means he's going to be mature about the whole thing and not freak out or run away.
Billy wants his dad.
Not Bruce Wayne, his real dad. The man who'd raised him and played games with him and always, always told him stories about all sorts of places he visited. He misses his dad so bad it hurts.
He can deal with Bruce Wayne being his biological father. He will deal with it. But that doesn't mean he liked it, because he doesn't. Not at all. He doesn't think he'll ever truly be happy with it. He knows he'll never call Mr. Wayne dad or father. Never ever.
Billy turns away from the window and looks around the plane. Mr. Wayne is reading a newspaper with his brow furrowed. Dick is playing some sort of game on his phone. Alfred is apparently their pilot (and how cool is it their butler can fly an airplane). Dr. Thompkins has headphones in and is reading a book about something or other, Billy isn't quite sure what.
Billy reaches under his seat and pulls out his backpack, carefully tugging it open and yanking out an old, worn book. A gift from the wizard. It has spells for pretty much every situation Billy will ever find himself in and a few he probably won't.
"What are you reading?" Dick asks suddenly.
"Oh, just an old book my parents gave me," Billy lies. "Before, well, before. It's one of the last things they ever gave me."
Dick's face softens at the lie, and Billy almost finds himself feeling guilty about it. But he can't, because no one is supposed to know his secret. He needs to keep them safe. And the lie will keep Dick from asking too much more, hopefully.
"Ah," Dick says. "It must be important to you."
"It is."
Dick nods and that's that, situation solved.
"Do you like school?"
Billy looks up again, startled.
"Um, yeah, I really do. Why?"
"Just curious. I don't really know much about you," Dick admits sheepishly. "And I'd like to know more."
"Oh," Billy says. He's surprised. It isn't like he expects Mr. Wayne and Dick to be cruel or anything, or even indifferent. He's pretty sure they're good people. He just doesn't expect them to care about the little things so much. "I really like history."
"Why?" Dick asks.
"My parents went on archeological digs, you know? And they brought me with most of the time, so I guess I just couldn't really stay away from it. It's all just so interesting. Like, did you know mummies had their brains pulled out through their nose with a hook?" Billy asks. "It's cool."
"That's gross," Dick says.
"Yeah, it kind of is," Billy agrees. "But it's still pretty cool."
"Can you imagine if people still did that today?" Dick wonders. "Where would all the brains go?"
"Probably to zombies," Billy replies. "If they were real."
"Probably. It shouldn't be more than an hour until we're landing in Gotham."
"Really? That was fast."
Dick smiles. "Alfred is pretty much the best pilot ever. Once we land it'll be back to the Manor and Dr. Thompkins will probably do a quick check-up on you or at least schedule one."
"I don't need a check-up," Billy says hurriedly. "I'm fine."
"You were living in an abandoned apartment building. I'm fairly sure that's not the definition of 'fine'."
"I am."
"Listen, Bruce just wants to make sure you're okay," Dick sighs. "And come on, check-ups are important."
Billy nods his head, albeit a tad sullenly. Dick is right. That doesn't mean Billy has to like it, but he's right.
"Anyway, I'll let you get back to your book."
The rest of the flight Billy tries and eventually just pretends to read, like knowing how much they actually care hasn't completely shaken his world.
Wayne Manor, Gotham City, U.S.A.
October 6th, 2010
Billy isn't quite sure what he's expecting when they pull up, but it isn't this. This massive, huge, giant, house. Mansion. Billy finds himself wondering just how many people could actually live here. Probably almost a whole small town.
He feels his jaw drop, and ties to snap it shut, but his jaw doesn't seem to be listening to his brain anymore. Or maybe it is because his brain is still telling him he's in shock.
He hears a sharp laugh to his side and glances back to see Dick, smiling slightly.
"Sorry, it's just I had the same reaction when I came here for the first time."
Billy looks back at the Manor. This is where he's going to live. A myriad of worries fills his head. Like how is he going to not get lost? How will he even find the front door? The place is huge. It almost looks bigger than the apartment building he was living in before.
Billy hops out of the car once he sees Mr. Wayne get out. Dick follows him. Alfred stays in the car.
"I'm going to grab your luggage, Billy," Mr. Wayne says. "Alfred is taking Dr. Thompkins home. We'll help get you settled."
"I can get it," Billy offers, already making his way towards the back.
"No, you go inside with Dick. I'll join you in a moment."
Dick gestures for Billy to follow him. Billy does so slowly. Even the doors are massive. It's intimidating, to say the least. Billy isn't really sure he likes it very much. There's nothing homey about it at all. It just looks big.
Still, Dick seems excited to show Billy around. He opens the doors with glee (were they even locked?) and skips into the house. Billy follows at a much slower pace.
"This is the main entryway. It's pretty big. I won't show you too much, just because it's pretty confusing. I figure I'll give you a better tour in the morning. For now, I'll just show you the kitchen, living room, my room, Bruce's room, and your room. Those last three are all fairly close together."
Billy nods absently.
"So, the living room is to your left, the kitchen is through the living room, so is the dining room," he begins quickly, mostly gesturing before dragging Billy by the wrist up the huge staircase. "I think Bruce went back out to say goodbye to Leslie and schedule you an appointment for tomorrow. I'll show you the rooms now, let you get settled."
Before Billy can get a word in edgewise, they're upstairs.
"This room is mine," Dick says, pointing to a door with a few band and video game posters. Bruce's room is on my left. Your room is on my right, or it will be. Right now it's still just a guest room, you know?"
Billy opens the door Dick gestures to and tries, again, to contain his gasp. He doesn't quite manage it. The room is almost as big as the apartment he was living in, the bed alone is large enough to be a room, or that's what it feels like. Granted, the decor is grand, a little bit intimidating. He's kind of scared to enter for fear of ruining something.
"I know it's a little bit… impressive. Bruce will let you redecorate however you want."
"Okay," Billy manages. He almost wants to say no. This is all too much. It feels like too much, especially this room. It's the last straw. "Do you, do you mind if I can just be alone for the rest of the night? I'm a little tired."
Dick nods, patting Billy's shoulder lightly.
"If you need us, you know where to find us, okay?"
Billy nods and watches as Dick closes the door. As soon as he hears the latch click, tears start to stream down his face. Luckily, he's mastered the art of crying silently.
Wayne Manor, Gotham City, U.S.A.
October 6th, 2010
"You can go ahead and sit down. I thought before anything serious, I could just ask you about yourself," Dr. Thompkin's says.
"Okay," he says, dropping onto a chair, avoiding the bed in the corner meant for check-ups.
"Now, let's start with some basics, how often did you eat full meals?"
Billy shifts.
"I always had lunch on school days and I had breakfast every day. I had dinner like half the time," he finishes slowly. He can't tell if she's impressed or upset. On the one hand, being able to eat as much as he did is impressive for someone who's homeless for lack of a better word.
"Okay," she sighs, rubbing her forehead. "That's better than I expected. How often were you sick?"
"I don't know." He scrunches his face up, thinking. "Not often. Once or twice a year, maybe?"
"Okay. Okay. I'm going to weight you now, okay?" she asks.
Billy stands up and goes to the scale in the corner of the room.
"Do I just stand on it?"
"That works just fine," she says.
Billy steps onto it carefully.
"You can hop off," Dr. Thompkins says after a few more moments. "Do you mind taking that big sweater off and doing it again just so I can get a more accurate measurement?"
Billy shakes his head and tugs it off, leaving him in a red t-shirt.
"What is that?" she asks suddenly, rushing towards him and tugging one of his sleeves up closer to his shoulder.
"It's, well…"
"It looks like Lichtenberg Figures," she whispers, almost to herself.
"What?" Billy asks. He's never heard anyone call those scars that. Then again, he can count on one hand the people who know about the scars.
"Electrocution scars," she says, clearing her throat.
"Like lightning?"
"Billy, were you hit by lightning?"
"It was a long time ago," he says quickly, defensively. "I felt fine afterward." Because he was Captain Marvel after, probably.
"Did you ever go to a hospital? That was serious. It still is. You could have nerve damage. Do you understand that? I hope you realize how lucky you are to be alive, Billy Batson."
"Yes, ma'am," he manages, trying to keep from choking. He just wants this to be over. He likes her well enough, but he doesn't want to be Bruce Wayne's son. He was happy back home, being plain old Billy Batson. He doesn't think he'll ever be happy here.
"Like father like son," he hears her mutter as she moves away. That probably hurts the most. She's not talking about C.C. Batson.