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In these four years, Billy’s learned that the Justice Lords like to make a spectacle for everyone to watch, especially the kids. He thinks it's probably because the Lords like the sight of them terrified and helpless.
He always tries to avoid it. He wants to throw up after, empty himself over a toilet.
Billy can’t escape it now. Not when he’s the front and center this time. Not with Wonder Woman’s lasso tightly wrapped around his twelve-year old body, not with the Lords standing tall as Billy heaves with broken sobs.
It hurts to cry. He can’t stop crying. There’s blood soaking his shirt, darker than his jacket, but it’s not his own blood he’s focused on.
Freddy, Mary, and Uncle Dudley.
Their corpses make a pool of red on the Watchtower floor, mangled and disfigured limbs. Billy can’t tell which body part belongs to which. He doesn’t want to. He thinks he heard the other children whimpering and crying when the Lords played around with his family like they were toys.
“A child had us fooled for four years,” Wonder Woman tugs on the rope, disdainful. Billy knows she’s always hated him the most as the Captain, “he should be killed for this mockery.”
“Hold on, Diana,” Superman intervenes. He's smiling. Billy hates it when he smiles. That's when he knows Superman is thinking of something horrible. “That would be a waste, wouldn’t it? I’m sure Bruce can agree. You know how he likes them.”
Batman only inclines his head. His cowl might hide his gaze, but Billy’s been close up to him enough to know when he’s looking at you.
Billy knows it’s bad when Batman agrees with Superman.
He can still get to the Rock of Eternity with Zeus’ lightning if he can manage to become the Captain. He’ll be all alone this time. No Freddy, the only friend he’s ever trusted. No Uncle, who’d protected him after his parents died when no one else would. And Mary. Billy remembers thinking his sister was dead for most of his life.
Now it’s true.
He tries to whisper, to make his broken voice form something. “Shaza–”
A strong hand grabs him by the neck before he can finish the words, tight fingers wrapping around him and clogging up his airways. It makes the Watchtower spin. What comes out is a pathetic and fearful squeak. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes as Superman forces his mouth open and reaches and he can feel his tongue being…being–
Billy screams.
Superman's mouth crashes against his own, but all he can taste is blood and pain.
—
There was a reason Fawcett City managed to escape the surveillance of the Justice Lords for so long.
The Justice Lords left it to the Captain.
It’s the only way to keep the city safe, even if Mary begs and screams at him otherwise. He doesn’t budge, even when Uncle or Freddy try to persuade him too. He’s seen what happened to Coast City under Yellow Lantern, along with what the Flash does to Central City. What the Justice Lords have done to the rest of the world. Billy pretends to be like one of them. Ruthless. Not a twelve-year old. Capable of killing thousands. Of liking it.
It’s hard.
Really hard.
He doesn’t say a word most of the time, opting to keep his mouth shut. If it works for Batman, why couldn’t it work for him?
Protecting his city comes with its own set of horrors. Billy remembers the first time he was ‘gifted’ someone as their punishment after joining the Lords.. He knows about the kids Batman keeps, but he won’t touch Crow–and no one ever hurts Superboy, but Superman let the Lords touch the Clone–which makes him one of the kids that the Justice Lords pass amongst themselves when they don’t feel like sharing their favorites.
Crow was five years older than Billy, and he was shaking despite trying to keep his expression blank. He looked at Billy like he was the personification of hell, like he would touch him the same way Wonder Woman or Superman did and Billy felt like throwing up on the floor right then and there.
He’s not the only one to look at the Captain like that. The other Justice Lords’ assistants look at him with that terrified expression too. Sometimes, Billy wishes that he could de-transform and talk to them.
I’m scared too. He wants to say. But he can only think.
“Maybe later, “ Billy had tried to brush it off, even as his heart rattled against his ribcage. He was lucky Superman couldn’t hear it where he was seated at the front of the table. Billy saw Crow’s shoulders lose some of his tension.
“Hey,” Yellow Lantern raised his hand mockingly, and Billy almost jumped out of his seat, “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
The Justice Lords chuckled, like it was funny. Which meant Billy had to laugh too. Crow’s gaze stayed pinned to the floor, and Billy counted a hundred sorries in his head.
He counts that every time he has to laugh at someone’s pain.
By the fourth year, he’s thought of the word thousands.
—
It was all for nothing.
Billy can still hear his family screaming in his sleep well into the first week. He wonders if it’ll be stuck in his nightmares forever. When he’s not passed out, the Justice Lords take turns with him. His face pressed against the floor, the wing, or the wall as large hands hold him down.
He thought that hearing what they do to the other kids would make him more prepared.
It doesn’t.
—
Batman and Superman seem to like him the most. Especially Batman.
It’s not a surprise when all the children he keeps have black hair and blue eyes. Billy is still crying when Batman is finished with him, even in the comfort of a mattress now that he’s being kept at the Wayne Manor until Superman or someone else wants their turn.
Billy’s not prepared for that. He’s never prepared for that. Because at the very least, Batman is human.
He stays there, curled on the bed and hiding under the blankets even as night comes. He managed to clean himself up just a bit after Batman left, but he can still feel the phantom stickiness.
Billy wishes he had Tawny. When he was still the Captain, holding Tawny would remind him of his family when he was afraid. His stuffed tiger is probably in some dumpster now along with wherever the Justice Lords dumped the rest of his stuff. He even misses hearing Zeus' voice in his head.
Billy flinches when he hears the door creak open. Batman should be gone for now, doing whatever Justice Lord stuff he did. Did Superman come to collect him? His breaths start faster now, and he can’t even beg. They took away his ability to. Where there used to be a tongue is a flat plane of nothing.
The door swings open. He almost mistakes him for Batman, curling inwards before a flash of recognition courses throughout him.
It isn’t Batman. It’s Crow…Damian?
Damian stalks inside the room, and Billy flinches a little. Why would Crow visit him? Billy kind of expects Damian to glare at him. Or yell at him. Or hit him. He’s probably really angry at Billy for scaring him that one time they first met.
But Damian doesn’t do any of that. Damian stares at him for a moment, an odd expression on his face. Like he’s recognizing something he didn’t realize was there. Billy doesn’t realize that Damian’s holding something, until his hands finally come into view.
Tawny? He mouths, the sight of his stuffed tiger making his eyes water. It’s stupid to cry over a stuffed animal, but he can’t help it. Billy thought he was gone.
Damian clears his throat. “I managed to grab it before the Justice Lords destroyed your belongings.”
Billy cradles the tiger in his arms like a treasure when Damian gives it to him. He would thank him a million times over if he could speak. Infinity, even. He looks up, thinking that maybe he can mouth it before seeing that Damian is still staring at him like he’s seeing someone else.
But who–
There’s a noise behind the door. Someone hisses. “You’re pushing me!” It doesn’t sound like an adult. In fact, the someone sounds like they’re around Billy’s age.
“Am not, Jay.”
“Are too, Dickie!”
The door swings open again as crowns of black hair come into view. Billy counts one, two and three. Tim, Jason and Dick. Billy’s only ever met them as the Captain, but he’s always liked them. He’s pretty sure they tried their best not to look when his tongue got pulled out.
“Are you okay?” Tim says. He’s older than Billy, maybe by two years. “I mean, you’re not okay. I mean–”
Jason elbows him, before Dick rushes forward. Billy blinks. Dick is smiling at him from beside the bed. It's the first nice smile Billy's seen since then. “Do you want company? Helps make the bad-touch-hurt go away.”
Without thinking, Billy nods.
Before he can make any other movement, the bed dips as weights climb on top of it. Before Billy knows it, he’s being surrounded by bodies. It’s the first time since then that he’s had so many people near him that don’t want to touch him badly. He could almost cry. Damian sits at the edge, like he’s their guard. Billy hears whispering, something about how they need to patch him up, but he’s still tired enough to close his eyes.
When he falls asleep between them with Tawny tucked in his arm, it’s the first night Billy doesn’t hear screams.