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For the most part, Billy Batson was used to the cold. When you lived in Fawcett City and you were homeless... well, lets just say you had to be used to it. Long winter days and the occasional blizzard were all too normal in the city, but even then, there were a few times when winter caught every single resident by surprise.
Like the blizzard currently hitting the city with as much force as Zeus himself.
More than three feet of the white powder covered Fawcett, more than any other storm has ever dropped on them and with another foot on the way. The wind chill and temperature had long ago reached below zero, and overall, Fawcett City was was dead with no way for its citizens to keep it running. Electricity still managed to keep going, but just barely with no way of knowing when it would go out and for how long. Most people had stocked up on both food and water before the storm hit, but sooner or later they would begin to run out. There was next to no way for anyone to get anywhere, so whenever someone was hurt or needed help, all the police officers and doctors could do was pray.
All of this was very concerning to Billy, so much so that he spent six days straight as Captain Marvel, continuously flying around Fawcett and going as much as he could to help. It was the longest amount of time he's ever spent as his alter self, and honestly, he was starting to worry about the side effects, if there were any. Captain Marvel may have the stamina of Atlas, but Billy Batson did not, and as he flew around in the cold winter snow he could feel the aching mortality of his mortal form trying to bleed through. No matter how much he wanted to stay out, no matter how many calls he got from the Justice League trying to get a hold him, he had to rest eventually. He could potentially die if he didn't.
So that's why at four a.m, when everything seemed to have calmed down slightly, Captain Marvel found a bridge that no one had been taking residence under and transformed back to Billy Batson with a call of the Wizards name.
The effects on his mortal body happened instantly, much faster and harder than the boy expected. Captain Marvel didn't mind the freezing weather, or going without food or water, or without any sleep for nearly a week. Billy on the other hand, did mind. He minded the biting chill that soaked into his poorly covered body, he minded the aching of his stomach and the scratchiness of his throat, and he definitely minded how sleep deprived his was.
Without any warning that he could understand, the boy fell to the cold, cold ground, unable to react to the nonexistent pain, and passed out. He stayed passed out for over twelve hours, and when he finally came to, every nerve was numb. His tongue couldn't form the words to call out the name that could save him, his limbs refused to move in the bitter cold to get him somewhere warmer. All he could do was lay there, wondering if he'd ever be able to move again, wondering if he would ever be warm again.
Billy could hear something in his ear. It was static, much like a radio, but someone was trying to speak through it. Or, maybe they were speaking through it but the boy couldn't understand the words. Either way, he wondered why the sound was there in the first place. He vaguely remembered that he had a comm given to him by Batman so that he could stay informed with Justice League business, but for whatever reason, that thought couldn't translate into information that he could use. All he could understand was the the voice seemed gruff and low, almost angry at him for whatever reason.
"Bil... where... come in," was the only thing Billy could translate from the static, and even then that took a lot of concentration. The voice sounded really familiar now that he thought about it, one of the League members, probably. But none of his fellow heroes had access to his comm, accept... someone. The boy couldn't put his mind together to think of the hero that had the only direct access to his comm, but he knew it was the only one that knew his secret as well.
Billy opened his mouth slightly, his teeth chattering together in the cold. He used all of the energy he had to force his tongue to move, to force his voice to work. "C-c-c-c-c-cold," was the only thing he could manage, mainly because it was the only thing he could think of. Would the League member understand what he was saying? Was his comm even on so that he could respond?
There was more noise, the voice in the static talking again, but this time, Billy couldn't make it out. Whatever they asked was lost on him, so he replied back with the only thing he could. "C-c-cold. It-it-it's cold."
If there was a response, the boy never heard it, because moments later his consciousness was dead to the world.
Bruce Wayne knew something was wrong Captain Marvel never showed up for a Justice League meeting. When he asked about the red clad hero being gone, Lantern mentioned something about Marvel staying in Fawcett because the entire city was in a state of emergency. Sure enough, when the dark knight checked the news moments later, he found out that the entirety of Fawcett City was buried under snow. It was the worst blizzard they've had on the record, and even after four days it showed no signs of stopping.
His paranoia grew when he attempted to contact Marvel, only to find his calls ignored and the hero's comm simply offline. Even when Superman, Wonder Woman, and a few other League members went to Fawcett to help out, no one ever found Marvel, even though there was dozens of reports saying that he was still active in the city.
Then, when he was in the Batcave and analyzing the newest version of Scarecrow's fear gas, he got a notification on the Batcomputer saying that Marvel's comm had suddenly been turned on. Why now after so long, he had no idea, but the dark knight pressed down on the button that would activate his side of the comm, allowing them to communicate.
"Captain Marvel, are you there?" Batman asked, waiting a few seconds as he expected the hero's response.
When none came after two minutes, he tried again, "Captain Marvel, do you read me?"
But once again, nothing. Dread was beginning to pool in his stomach by then, not just Batman's but Bruce Wayne's. Something was obviously wrong here, and the longer it went on the more he started to think something was wrong with Billy, and that made his parental instincts fly through the roof.
"Billy, you need to tell me where you are, now. Do you understand me? I need you to come in," Bruce pleaded desperately, holding his breath when something started coming through the other side of the comm. It took a minute, but Bruce was finally able to understand the word coming from other side.
"C-c-c-cold," was the stuttering response coming from not from Captain Marvel but from Billy Batson. All at once it made sense to Bruce, and before he could properly get a thought through his head he was activating the Batmobile, preparing it to drive. He didn't notice Dick Grayson walking down the stairs with a bowl of popcorn in hand, humming cheerfully to himself.
"Hey B," the eldest Wayne was saying, putting a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "Alfred was wondering-"
"Billy. Are you okay? Can you tell me what's going on?" Bruce unknowingly interrupted, already tracking the comm and uploading the location to the Batmobile. He might as well have been deaf to the questions of Dick, which were many as his watched his mentor furiously typing. That's when they both heard the weak words faintly coming through.
"Cold. It-it-it's cold."
Dick stopped in his place when he heard the voice, how young and fragile it sounded. In the back of his mind he wondered why Bruce was in contact with someone so young, but he had no time to ask before his mentor was basically running to the Batmobile, jumping in and driving out of the Batcave all within 10 seconds. Dick starred, stunned at the events that had taken place in the past few seconds he's been down here.
Slowly, he began walking back up the stairs back to the Manor, thinking to himself that Alfred would need to get a raincheck on that question.
30 minutes after Bruce speed out of the Batcave, he saw Fawcett City in the distance. The reports weren't kidding when they said the city was buried under the white powder, the streets unseeable and unnavigable, at least for a normal vehicle. But the Batmobile was no normal vehicle. The car easily plowed through the snow, moving as swiftly as if could through the snow. It was much slower than Bruce would have liked, but there was nothing he could do but grind his teeth and pray that Billy was still alive, wherever he was. The seconds went by like hours as he made his way towards the comms tracked location, but eventually he came to the location.
Bruce opened the car of the Batmobile, instantly being hit with the wave of cold, biting wind. The Batsuit made him mostly protected, but it still didn't block out everything. He could only imagine how Billy was fairing right now, knowing that the boy owned little clothing as if was and refused anything Bruce attempted to give him. It didn't matter if it was money or even food, Billy always pushed it away and told the dark knight that he could take care of himself.
The Bat grinded his teeth, moving as quickly as he could towards the bridge where the tracker beeped. Once he was under it and partially away from the snow, he instantly saw the body of the young Billy Batson. Bruce ran to the boy, heart pounding in his ears as he turned him over, Billy's lips darkening to a blue color and his already pale skin becoming transparent. Even through the Batsuit's thick material he could tell just how cold the boy's skin was, how death was just around the corner, if not already there.
Bruce ignored the pounding fear in his heart, instead pressing his fingers to Billy's wrist, where a pulse should be. With a great sigh of relief, he found it, but it was faint and slowing gradually as he froze to death. Without hesitation the Bat picked Billy up in his arms, running back to the Batmobile and activating it before he even touched it. He placed the boy in the passenger seat next to him, calling out, "turn the seat warmers and the heat on, despatch emergency blankets."
The next moment the requests were granted, Billy's seat glowing red and Bruce using the thick blanket that was revealed in a hidden compartment to wrap him up tightly, hoping it would be enough until he could get back to the Batcave. There were very few times in Bruce Wayne's life that he felt panicked or fearful, but like every other time, he refused to show it. Instead, he gave another command, "Batmobile, drive to the Batcave and inform Agent A to prepare all the medical supplies we have and to turn up the heat," and hoped to himself that he wouldn't be losing another child.
After dealing with the human disaster that was Bruce Wayne and his family for many years, Alfred Pennyworth was used to his Master's odd and sometimes unpredictable nature. That's why went Richard came from the Batcave explaining to him that Bruce jumped into the Batmobile and took off without any explanation, he didn't think too much about it. Yes, it was odd, but for the moment there was nothing Alfred could do about it, especially when most of his energy was focused on Jason, who had finally taken up their offer to have dinner with the whole family.
But the butler's attention was quickly rerouted about half an hour later, when he got a notification from Bruce saying to prepare all the medical supplies they had, and weirdly enough, turn up the heat. Without hesitation Alfred commanded Richard and Jason to follow him to the Batcave, the two seemingly glad to have something else to do than awkwardly make small talk. Or, as Alfred more thought of it, Richard doing his best to make jokes while Jason sits there and stares it him like the eldest Wayne had grown a third head.
"What are we down here for, Alfy?" Richard asked the butler as he watched the older man begin to activate the med bay, which was used way more than he liked it to be. The butler would wonder why he couldn't just have one normal day working for the Wayne's, but with this family, there was no normal. Not unless you counted every single member being some sort of vigilante and regularly getting themselves into trouble 'normal.'
"Master Bruce has informed me to get the medical supplies ready for his return. Seeing as this might be an emergency, I thought it would be best to have as many hands on deck as possible," Alfred informed, pressing a couple buttons into a pad to turn on the heat. It would take a good bit for the Cave's naturally cool temperature to warm, but it would eventually.
Dick hummed to himself as he helped Alfred, wondering if this had to do with the person he heard his mentor talking to. It would make sense, though he still wasn't sure who it was, and why Bruce was walking to them. He thought the older man told him pretty much everything that went on in his life, but he guessed that Bruce still had his secrets to keep.
Jason began helping them as well, his turquoise eyes constantly looking around like he was expecting a trap to suddenly hold him down. Dick felt bad that who he considered his brother still acted that way around them, around those who were supposed to be his family, but at the same time he couldn't really blame the younger man. He went through a lot of grade A shit and came out of literal Hell swinging, so Dick knew there were a few things that would take time to get out of the habit of. But hey, he just thought it was a massive score on his part that he was even able to convince Jason to join them for dinner, along with Tim and Damian. Tim was also on kind of rocky terms with the family after the whole Battle for the Cowl fiasco, but he agreed to come over. In all honesty, Dick was overjoyed and terrified all at the same time.
Less than 10 minutes after setting the med bay up, the Batmobile came speeding into the Batcave, screeching to a sharp stop with Bruce with his cowl down jumping out before it had even stopped. When Jason attempted to ask the vigilante what was going on, Bruce barely looked up at him, rushing to the passenger side of the Batmobile to open the door harshly, scooping into his arms-
-A young boy?
Now Dick was definitely confused, especially since the boy was wrapped up tightly in one of the Batmobile's emergency blankets, something they rarely, if ever, used. Bruce ran to the med bay, as as he got closer Dick could see that the young boy's lips were tinged an unhealthy shade of blue, and was barely breathing. Alfred was helping the dark knight instantly, moving smoothly and efficiently with the years of practice he's had with nursing vigilantes back to health.
It wasn't until 15 minutes later, when there was now an IV in the boy's arm, an oxygen mask on his face and a heating blanket wrapped around him that Bruce relaxed a little bit, stepping back from the boy. Dick was shocked to notice that his mentors hands were shaking ever so slightly, and that solidified the need to know who this boy was, and why Bruce had a contact with him at all.
Jason beat him to it. "Hey B, I know this probably isn't the best time, but who the hell is this?"
Their mentor looked up at them with a blank expression, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he thought deeply about something. He hardly seemed to realize that it was Jason asking this question, the son that he's been waiting for a long time to come back. He probably even forgot about the dinner they were supposed to have tonight, though it seemed now that those plans would be going out the window.
Finally, Bruce looked back to the boy and said, "this is Billy Batson."
When Billy felt his consciousness try to swim away from the darkness, he felt warmer than he did before. It wasn't enough to completely get rid of the chill, but it was enough to start slowly thaw out the ice on his skin. Breathing was also much easier to do, but he still couldn't move his body. All around him there were the sounds of voices, but much like before with the static, he could only hear bits and pieces of what was said.
"Batson... irony... please don't tell me.... another orphan..."
"Master Bruce... dehydrated... nearly starving... hypothermia... death..."
"Where did you... why.... how do you know..."
"Friend... League business... Fawcett City..."
That last voice sounded really familiar to Billy, and he was pretty sure that it was the same voice that was talking to him in the static. Now that he could hear it more clearly, he was positive he knew the voice well somehow. The deep, soothing baritone was something he's grown accustomed to over time, though it was really frustrating the boy that he couldn't figure out who it was.
That was all Billy could process in his jumbled, exhausted brain before the darkness consumed him once again.
The boy on the bed shifted slightly, catching Bruce's eye as he intensely watched him, looking for any sign that he was awake. He never opened his eyes, which was probably good seeing as the reports of Captain Marvel in Fawcett City went on for six days straight, which knowing Billy, means the kid went without many of his essential needs for nearly a week.
Dick and Jason had refused to give him more than a minute of peace to sort through his thoughts when their questions were thrown at him. He was more than happy that his second son was back at the Manor with the rest of the family, but at the moment he was so focused on saving Billy that it completely slipped his mind that Jason was supposed to be here.
"Did you say his name was Billy Batson?" Dick asked with a large, teasing smile on his face. "Oh, the irony here is great. Wait, please don't tell me you have another biological child, because I can deal with only one at a time. Or is he another orphan you picked up on the streets? If so, B, I think you might have a problem and we should get you to see a physicist or something."
Bruce sighed to himself. Yes, the irony of Billy's last name being Batson wasn't lost on him, and yes, he's considered many of times adopting the boy so that he would no longer be on the streets, but he knew Billy would never agree to it. He would hate to be away from Fawcett City, and he would probably see himself as a charity case rather than a true son to Bruce. Jason thought something similar when he first came under Bruce's care, but Billy was different from Jason in so many ways, different from all of his children in so many ways.
Luckily, Alfred intercepted before Bruce could figure out how to respond, though it wasn't with something he was particularly happy about. "Master Bruce, Mister Batson's vitals and numbers came back. According to them he is severally dehydrated, nearly starving, and has a rather nasty case of hypothermia. Had the boy been left on his own for much longer, I have no doubt he would have died," Alfred's calm voice informed, though Bruce could hear the strain in layer beneath the calm. Unfortunately, the butler was all to used to dealing with those on death's doorstep.
"Okay look B," Jason jumped in, gaining the man's attention. "I'm all for saving the kid or whatever, but where did you even find him? Why do you know him, how do you know him? Something isn't adding up here." Bruce stared at his second son for a moment, noting the intensity in his eyes, the intensity that was there when he was still Robin. In an odd way, it was nice to know that even through the Lazarus Pit there were parts of Jason that it would never be able to erase.
Quickly coming up with an alibi that wouldn't reveal Billy as Captain Marvel, Bruce replied with, "Billy's a friend of Captain Marvel's. His identity and purpose is kept secret and is used in League business only. Think of him as a look out for Marvel, a way to keep track of what goes on in Fawcett City when he's not around. Marvel asked for me to keep tabs on the boy in case anything happens to him and well... let's just say the blizzard in Fawcett trapped him. I couldn't just let him die."
The three let the new, but false information sink in. Jason narrowed his eyes, as if sensing the lie, but he had no time to call Bruce out on it if he thought so, because in that moment, the door to the Batcave opened up, revealing Tim Drake with heavy bags under his otherwise sharp eyes.
"What's everyone doing down here?" Tim asked, observing the boy in the med bay and everyone crowded around it.
"Hello, Master Timothy. It seems that we have a guess for the time being," Alfred greeted, stepping away from the now stable boy.
Tim looked from Jason back to the boy, his shoulders ever so slightly tensing. "Does this mean we're still having dinner?
Billy awoke still feeling cold.
Even with the thick blanket that he could feel around him, the steady flow of heat gently brushing over him, the boy still couldn't get the feel of frost out of his blood. It made him shiver uncontrollably, so much so that when he opened his eyes the ceiling couldn't come into focus for many minutes. Once he could actually see the ceiling (which was a lot higher than he first thought) Billy slowly pushed himself up. It was a bit of a challenge due to the blanket and something poking him in the arm (a needle, after looking down) but he eventually was sitting up. His lungs heaved from the amount of effort put into the small actions, causing Billy to cough roughly.
Once his cough was subdued, the boy looked around him, trying to figure out where he was. The area he was in was large and open, and while he was in some sort of medical area there was much more than just that. From where he was sitting he could see a sleek looking car, many gadgets and giant computer, and even what looking like a huge... penny?
"Where am I?" the boy whispered to himself, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. He didn't think it was a hospital, and he definitely didn't think he was in Fawcett City anymore. He didn't think he was in danger though, seeing as the ones who found him obviously somewhat care about his health.
The boy stared at the needle in his arm for a few moments before deciding to take it out, not entirely sure what it's purpose was. The only needles he's ever really seen were the ones that were discarded on the streets, usually thrown there by druggies. Pulling out the needle, Billy winced at the pain, not liking the sharp feeling at all, quickly finding a bandage to put over the small hole in his skin.
With that, the boy tested out his strength by attempting to stand up, finding his knees wobbly and muscles shaking. Instead of sitting back down like he probably should have, Billy just gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a step forward. He didn't know how much time had passed, but it couldn't be enough that Fawcett City didn't need his help. He would have to find the ones that helped him and ask where the exit was, even if logic was trying to tell him he was in no shape to help.
After finding the strength to walk slowly without assistance from nearby objects, Billy went on finding a way out of this place, or at least someone who could show him the way out. He could see a long staircase that lead to a door, and without any other option in front of him, the boy tightened the blanket still around him and shuffled towards it. As he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, Billy took note some of the odd gadgets around him, noticing that many of them had symbols that had something to so with a bat. After seeing the bat many times, the realization of what they meant struck the boy in the face, causing him to stop abruptly.
"Holy moley, Batman saved me from the snow," he said to himself in awe, eyes widening. "Holy moley, this must be the Batcave!" he exclaimed, the high ceilings and dark look of the place suddenly making sense. He slowly looked up the stairs, suddenly wondering if that was the entrance to Batman's house. He didn't know who the dark knight was, and he was afraid of making the vigilante mad if he entered uninvited.
...But Billy was also really cold, and really tired, and he didn't really want to be alone in the Batcave. It made him feel really small and vulnerable without knowing the place and not knowing where he could hide if he felt scared. So with grim determination, the boy started climbing the stairs, steadily going up them one at a time.
He didn't know how long it took, but he knew by the end of it every muscle in his body was quivering and he was sweating even though he still felt so cold. His lungs could barely keep up with the amount of oxygen his body needed, and the edges of his vision were ever so slightly blurred, like he was looking through water. The boy could collapse at any moment and he knew it, but he forced himself to keep going, pushing with all the strength he had on the door.
When it didn't give in at first, Billy thought it was locked, but with a stronger push it slid open easily, revealing a library behind it. Gasping, Billy dragged himself forward and out of the Batcave, immediately noticing the difference in temperature and the carpet below his feet. Somewhere in the library, the boy could hear the muffled sounds of someone moving, though he couldn't tell from where. His mind was too fuzzy to care anymore, and the reason why he was there was faded from his head.
Billy had barely taken a step forward when someone appeared in his vision, creating a large shadow over him. The boy tilted his head back, trying and failing miserably to suppress the new wave of chills running down his body. The man in front of him was really tall, like, almost the tallest person he's ever seen tall. His hair was dark and curly, but what stood out most to Billy was the shock of white hair that ran down the middle of the man's bangs, the color nearly glowing in the dim light of the library.
The man slowly knelt down so that he was nearly Billy's height, his greenish blue eyes soft as he studied Billy. The boy didn't say anything, not sure if he had the strength or the capacity to do so. The man didn't seem to mind though, and with smooth movements he picked Billy up as easily as you would a piece of paper, holding him snuggly against his body. Billy instantly melted into the hold, finding that the man was really warm, like, standing next to the furnace warm. He gripped onto the man's sweater as he began walking, burrowing his head into the warmth. A few moments later, the man stopped, slowly sitting down and shifting Billy into a more comfortable position. From the boy's place against the man's chest he could see the faint flickering of a fire, the orange light creating another layer of warmth around him.
Billy sighed happily, and with the man's hand carding gently through his hair, he fell asleep easily.
When Bruce walked into the library later that night, he did not expect to see Jason and Billy together on one of the many couches around the fire, both fast asleep. The vigilante couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, especially with Jason's face more relaxed than Bruce has seen it it well... years. For once there were no hard or tense lines in his face and shoulders, the young man sleeping easily with Billy by his side. He always did have a soft spot for kids.
From next to him, Damian appeared to observe the two as well. "-tt-, is that the boy Drake and Pennyworth spoke of?" he questioned, also seeming surprised on how calm Jason was. Bruce simply nodded wordlessly at his son, turning them both around to walk out of the library. Damian went without protest, even if he did glance over his shoulder to look at the duo once again.
The next time Billy opened his eyes, the man was gone. The thought made him sad, even if he never knew who the man was or why he was there in the first place. The blanket was still tucked around him, and he noticed that he was considerably warmer than before.
The boy sat up, rubbing at his eyes to chase away the last imprents of sleep in his mind. His nose picked up on something that smelled delicious, and a moment later his stomach growled fiercely, reminding the boy just how long its been since he's actually has something decent to eat. Even before the blizzard Billy struggled with eating regularly, and many times he's gone up to three days with only a granola bar to keep him going. He didn't mind much anymore, but clearly more than six days of nothing in his tank was starting to get to him.
Billy stood up from the couch, following the smell that promised food out of the library, quickly finding himself in what felt like a maze of hallways. The boy wondered if that meant he was in a mansion or something, and if that was the case, did that mean Batman was rich? It would make sense, seeing as the vigilante had so many gadgets that were constantly being replaced, along with the fact that Batman was where most of the Justice League fundings came from. In fact, now that he thought about it, it wouldn't make sense for Batman not to be rich.
Just as Billy thought he was lost in the seemingly endless hallways, he came across what he could only assume to be the kitchen. It was huge, bigger than some of the abandoned apartments that the boy has taken shelter in, and way fancier than anywhere he's ever stayed.
Yep. Batman was definitely rich.
There was an older man behind one of the stoves (yes, there were multiple stoves) flipping and scrambling eggs. His hair and mustache were white, and even from a distance Billy could see the warmth in his dark eyes as he smiled. He was talking to someone, though he spoke so lowly that the boy could not make out his words.
There was a cheerful bark of laughter, and a split second later a different man was running across Billy's field of vision. The boy couldn't get a good look at him, but the laugh sounded familiar, along with the voice that was saying, "see you both later! Sorry I can't stay," before leaving the kitchen. Less than a minute later, there was the sound of a door being closed, and Billy guessed that the man was now gone.
The older one was continuing to cook, never once looking in Billy's direction, but nevertheless he had the feeling that the older man somehow knew he was there. Call it instinct, call it superstition, but Billy thought that this man probably knew he was there from the moment he arrived. Surprisingly enough, the thought didn't make Billy feel uncomfortable.
The boy stepped forward, one foot at a time until he was fully in the kitchen and no longer hidden by the shadows. Only then did the older man look up, smiling warmly at Billy. "Ah, Master Bruce, it seems that our guest has finally decided to wake up," the older man spoke with a British accent, and Billy instantly liked the sound of his voice. It reminded him of a kind grandfather, even if the boy has never had a grandfather. But of he did, he'd like to imagine him sounding just like this man.
"Billy?" frantically asked a deep voice, one that Billy recognized as the one who spoke to him over his comm when he was still in Fawcett City. The one that only Batman had access to. Meaning that voice had to belong to-
The boy walked further into the kitchen, seeing a man with dark hair and blue eyes rushing in. When his eyes landed on Billy, there was no doubt in the boy's mind who this man was.
"Mr. Batman?"
Everything that happened after that was almost dreamlike whenever Billy looked back on it. Sure, he remembered what happened, but it still didn't feel like the events did, like he was somehow making them up.
Bruce Wayne, that really rich guy from Gotham that the boy sometimes saw of T.V when he had one, was Batman.
That... at first Billy honestly didn't know what to think about that. He never expected the dark knight to be such a well known and public figure, always assumed that he was just as broody in real life as he was under the cowl. But Billy had the feeling that the Bruce Wayne he saw and heard about on T.V was faked or exaggerated, maybe by the media, but maybe even by Bruce himself.
After everything, Alfred (who is Bruce's butler because duh, rich) told him to sit at the table and breakfast be served shortly. The chairs were so tall that Mr. Wayne had to pick him up to sit on one, his feet dangling high above the ground. The boy thanked the man, blushing slightly as his stomach gave another large growl. Mr. Wayne just chuckled at the sound, commenting that it sounded like Billy hasn't eaten in a week.
Billy blushed harder at that. "Well... that may or may not be true..."
Mr. Wayne raised an eyebrow at that, sitting down in his own chair, which already had a coffee waiting for him. "I assumed that was the case when the reports of Captain Marvel working in Fawcett City went on for more than five days straight," the man said quietly, giving Billy a pointed look. The boy squirmed under his intense gaze, shocked with the new information. But then again, this was still Batman we were talking about here. Of course he already knew everything.
"Do... they know?" Billy asked just as quietly, glancing back at the butler who was prepping bread for toast.
Mr. Wayne sighed, running his fingers through his short hair. "I imagine they're all a little suspicious, but I have little doubt that Alfred already knows. Despite what they say about me, most days I think it's him that's the World's Greatest Detective." The man tilted him head to the side, as if hearing the boy's unspoken question. "You have no need to worry about your secrets, Billy. I trust Alfred with my life, and he's saved it many of times." He's saved yours as well remained unsaid.
It was then the butler brought on the giant breakfast he had prepared, most of it going to Billy. Without even realizing it, the boy ate two stacks of pancakes, multiple bacon and sausage strips, six pieces of toast and three glasses of milk before he stopped. For the first time in a very long time, Billy was pleasantly full, no traces of hunger left behind. He blushed again when he noticed Mr. Wayne smiling at him, suddenly feeling embarrassed that he had pigged out in front of the billionaire. But if that man minded, he never said anything, only sipping his coffee silently.
Somehow both Alfred and Bruce managed to convince the boy to stay at the Manor for a few more days so they could make sure he made a full recovery. Billy insisted he was fine the entire time and that he needed to go back to Fawcett City to help, but Bruce was quick to remind him that many of their fellow Justice League members were doing that already, and that he needed his rest. It took some persuasion, but he finally gave in.
He was still in awe about being in a billionaire's house, and how big it was. Billy was grateful for Mr. Wayne letting him stay, but he still felt so... out of place. He couldn't sleep on the bed given to him because it was too soft, too suffocating. He felt almost guilty using the bathroom to clean himself, thinking about the dozens of kids he knew that haven't had a both in years. This wasn't his life, even if he did enjoy the hot chocolate Alfred would make, even if he did start to make friends with Damian Wayne, Bruce's son and if Billy had to guess, Robin.
He had to go back home.
That's why three days later, when there was no trace of any illness left in his body, Billy finally put him foot down to get back to Fawcett City. Sure, Mr. Wayne insisted he take warm clothing and tried to sneak some money into one of the pockets (which he refused, just like all the other times) but they let him go. The boy bid farewell to Alfred, and just before he called on the name that would grant him the power of gods, Mr. Wayne put a warm hand on his shoulder.
"You know my door is always open for you, right Billy?" he questioned, squeezing the boy's shoulder comfortingly.
Billy smiled brightly at Mr. Wayne, telling him, "I know." Then, with a much more serious tone, he said, "thank you for saving me. I... I probably would have died if you hadn't come and find me. You have no idea how much it means..." Billy blinked the unexpected tears out of his eyes. "It's been... a long time since someone's cared about me like that."
The look on Mr. Wayne's face turned sad, and he hugged the boy fiercely, as of to make up for all the years of loneliness he's been through. When he pulled back and stepped away, he gave Billy a smirk. "Now go be a hero."
The boy didn't need to be told twice.
"SHAZAM!"