Hey all! I kinda disappeared there, but! I have a new chapter out in less than 7 months! Progress! It's also kinda short, but it worked out better that way for pacing. The next chapter should be longer. Can't promise when it'll be up lol, but hopefully in a month or less? We'll see. I'm trying to get more done for all my in-progress stuff, but I'm also taking an insane amount of credits this semester and working, so we'll see how that goes. If any of y'all follow my Harry Potter/Young Justice crossover, that should be the next one getting an update, but I'm still not sure when. Also for people who follow this on only, I mostly use ao3 now, so I'm not posting as much to. If you do wanna see my newer stories, you'll probably wanna look at ao3 more than. Thanks for holding out!

LMK what you guys think. I thrive off of praise lol. But seriously, you don't have to comment. I just hope you like it! Again, hopefully breaks will start getting shorter, but I'm not sure yet.

Wayne Manor, Gotham City, U.S.A.

October 6th, 2010

By the time Billy leaves the room, it's been at least an hour and a half of questioning. To be fair to Dr. Thompkins, it does seem like she's trying to hurry it along, but he's been living alone for three years without any doctors visits. She has to be thorough.

She follows him out to where Bruce and Dick are waiting. Dick is on his cell phone, probably playing video games. Bruce is staring at the wall stoically.

"Well Bruce, I can understand how he's related to you," Dr. Thompkins says almost right away. Her lips are pressed together tightly. Billy still can't tell if she's upset. "Overall he's in really good shape."

By now, Dick has turned his phone off and is listening intently to Dr. Thompkins, occasionally glancing at Billy.

"He's not malnourished or that small for his age. By all accounts, he's a completely healthy ten-year-old boy." Her lips pinch together even tighter.

"But…" Bruce prompts, looking at Billy quickly. Billy blushes and looks at his feet. This is embarrassing. He's not a baby. The lighting was magic. It's not like it could hurt him.

Granted, they don't know that.

"He had significant electrical trauma about three years ago. Now, this caused some scarring, but - surprisingly - there's no lasting damage other than Lichtenberg Figures." She pauses. Looks at Billy as if she's scared he'll be traumatized. "Judging by the size, he should have died."

Now everyone is looking at him, like they're expecting him to be horrified. And he's just not. It wouldn't have hurt him. The magic, his magic, isn't like that.

He hates that they're all looking at him like he's fragile, like he's about to break down and start crying. He's not and at this point, he hates it. He never wanted to be here in the first place. His life was good. Sure, he didn't have parents, but he had a house and friends and he did well in school. He doesn't hate Bruce, but he doesn't really know him well enough to like him.

Dick grabs Billy's wrist at this point (maybe he can sense how close to bursting Billy's temper is?) and drags him off towards the hallway.

"I'll show you my room," Dick says. "I think you'll probably get the guest room next to mine. If you want to, Bruce will probably let you paint it."

Billy manages a weak smile. Now that he's not near Bruce or Dr. Thompkins (no doubt both are still talking about him) he's not as angry. He's just… numb. This kind of sucks and it's not ideal. How is Billy even going to work as Captain Marvel in Fawcett City when he's in Gotham?

"You'll probably have to borrow a pair of my pajamas. Unless you brought any with?"

Billy shakes his head mutely.

"Okay then. They might be a little big on you. I hope that's okay? I'm sure we can get you some more clothes tomorrow or something."

"That's fine," Billy agrees.

"I guess you're tired, huh? I was that way when I first came here too."

There's something behind that. Vaguely Billy knows the story behind Dick Grayson living with Bruce Wayne, probably much better than most other children his age who don't live in Gotham City. But he definitely doesn't know enough to make a complete conclusion. Still, he can guess.

"Here's my room," Dick says, pushing open a door to the most chaotic room Billy's ever seen.

The thing is, it's not really messy, per say, but there's just so much stuff, and it would definitely look less cluttered if it were organized better. There's no doubt about it, however, that he knows exactly where everything is, because as soon as they're inside Dick goes towards a corner of the room, opens one of two dressers, and pulls out a smallish pair of sweatpants and a large white t-shirt.

"Thanks," Billy says.

Dick smiles at him.

"No problem. Here, your room is next to mine. You can change there. If you want to hang out with me for a bit after you change, just come back here. If not go ahead and sleep."

"I'm pretty tired, actually," Billy says. Not a lie, but not the full truth. He needs more time to process. "I think I'll just lay down."

The smile Dick gives him now is sad.

"Make sure you sleep at least a few hours," he says, so much understanding that it physically hurts Billy to hear.

At least he knows Dick understands. One less worry.

Wayne Manor, Gotham City, U.S.A.

October 6th, 2010

When Billy wakes up he panics. Only for a moment, but still. He's not in his room. Instead he's in a fairly plain room that nevertheless looks like it belongs in a palace. He shoots out of bed right away, but before he gets much further than standing, he remembers the last few days. Which honestly explains the unfamiliar room, smells, and pajamas.

It's a good thing he didn't decide to turn into Captain Marvel right away. Okay, Billy likes to think he has more sense than that, but who knows? Maybe not always. Definitely not during a kidnapping. Which this isn't, so that's one less in a long list of problems he needs to work on.

As soon as the adrenaline drains, he's left feeling very sluggish. And hungry. Honestly though, Billy's pretty sure he won't be able to find the kitchen or dining room or wherever it is rich people eat.

He walks towards the door and opens it. He does remember where Dick's room is at least (not hard to forget since it's right next to the guest room he slept in). Hopefully Dick is still there and can guide him to food. Billy is hungry, starving, really.

He pauses for a moment before knocking on Dick's door, and almost changes his mind, because if Dick is sleeping he doesn't want to wake him up. They all had long days yesterday.

That decision is made for him, however, when Dick opens his door wide and jumps slightly at the sight of Billy, who stares back at him with wide eyes.

"Well, this is perfect," Dick says after recovering. "I was just about to check if you were awake."

"Oh," Billy responds intelligently.

"So, breakfast?" Dick raises his eyebrows a few times.

Absently, Billy realizes that Dick is just wearing dark sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair is extremely messy, definitely bedhead. Probably similar to Billy's own. But something about Dick strikes him as familiar. Extremely familiar. But for some reason, he can't quite put his finger on why.

"Sure," Billy agrees. "I'm pretty hungry."

"Perfect. You'll fit right in; I'm always hungry," Dick chirps. Dick seems to very suddenly be trying very hard to avoid looking at Billy's exposed arms. The t-shirt he's wearing is big, but the lightning scars are still visible snaking down his arm. Dick had heard about them, but hadn't seen them last night. After all, Billy nearly always wears a sweater or hoodie.

"By the way, do you know where my hoodie is? I couldn't find it this morning."

"Alfred probably took it so he could wash it," Dick replies, leading Billy towards the stairs. "It should be done later today, but I have some you could borrow if you want."

"That's okay," Billy replies. "I just wanted to check."

After a few more minutes spent in silence (it's not awkward, but it's not exactly comfortable either. It's just kind of there) they arrive in the kitchen, where Alfred is frying something that smells good.

The way here was confusing, and try as Billy might, he definitely won't be able to find the way back to the room he's staying in. This place is pretty much a maze disguised as a mansion. For all he knows, the Minotaur is in here somewhere. Fitting, since his thing is magic, most of it Greek.

"What's for breakfast?" Dick asks cheerily.

"Omelets, Mast Dick," Alfred replies. "I hope you're okay with that, Master Billy. If not, let me know and I'll whip something else together quickly for you."

"Omelets are fine," Billy says. "Thank you very much."

"Of course, Master Billy."

And wow, that's still really weird. Billy will never get used to that, if only because he doesn't really feel grown-up enough to have a title like that. Maybe no one ever does.

When he's given his omelet, piping hot and cheesy covered in peppers and spinach and green stuff, his mouth starts watering. Dick has already begun to dig in and Alfred starts to wash the pan. Bruce is absent.

"He had a meeting," Dick says, almost like he read Billy's mind. "He's trying to take a week or so off, but he needs to let Lucius know so that it can be planned around. He should be back around lunch."

How does that make Billy feel better? Why should he care if Bruce is taking care of him as an obligation or because he genuinely wants to know him? He shouldn't. But he does.

Billy missed having someone alive who cared about him.

It's different when they care about Captain Marvel. It's different from Freddy. This feels less… different. More welcoming. More like home used to.