Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  As far as Bruce is aware (and he’s done his research), he is the only one who knows Billy Batson’s true identity. He has a sneaking suspicion that J’onn might know, purely based on the mind reading, but he also knows J’onn likes to let them all have their privacy if they want it. So it’s just a suspicion, and he’s no way to prove it, so definitively, he’s the only one who knows that Shazam is actually a fifteen year old boy. (There’s another unprovable suspicion that Clark knows as well, but the previous statement still stands.)

  So when Batman goes down and leaves Shazam as the last one standing, something twists in his gut. He’s close enough to watch as Shazam’s eyes widen when he goes down, close enough to hear the yelps and growls of nearly two dozen alien creatures as they surround the only League member still standing. Batman can see J’onn behind Shazam, unconscious on the ground. The Flash is sprawled at an uncomfortable angle to his left, out cold. Superman isn’t on world with them, and Batman almost calls for him before remembering he’s dealing with a particularly nasty matter on Earth. 

  Batman struggles with the two creatures pinning him to the ground, trying to keep his attention on Billy as he tries to defend the rest of the fallen League on his own. Shazam’s voice calls out to him suddenly, sharp and clear through the snarls of the almost doglike creatures around them. 

  “Batman!” Bruce glances away from the snapping jaws at his throat to find Shazam looking at him, a determined set to his jaw. Somehow, as if through J’onn’s telepathic link that Bruce hates so much, he knows exactly what Billy’s about to do. That twisting in his gut returns stronger than ever, and Bruce wishes they had an alternative. He knows why he’s being warned, he’s the closest to Billy and he’s currently still being set on by two of the alien dogs. But he also understands that Billy is asking for advice, or approval, or some kind of confirmation that this is his only choice. Bruce glances around at the rest of the League sprawled around them, and he looks back to Billy. Shazam is now fighting off six of the creatures, the rest snarling just behind their heels. Batman shuts his eyes briefly, and the feeling in his gut intensifies. He meets Billy’s eyes again, and he nods, hating that he does it despite knowing it’s the only way. Batman watches Shazam stand up straighter, nodding back, before he turns back to the dogs attacking him. 

  Batman instinctually shuts his eyes as there’s a resounding shout of Shazam! followed by a blinding, sizzling streak of lightning. There’s a moment of charged silence before an explosion rocks the ground underneath them, and Bruce has a split second to open his eyes again before electricity surges through him and into the creatures attacking him. An involuntary, bit-off yell slips out between clenched teeth, mingling with the yelps of the animals and the crackling of lightning arcing from one beast to the next. There’s a distinctly young sounding cry of pain, and then everything falls silent. Bruce rides out the stiffness in his limbs, wills them back into motion, breathing through his teeth and trying not to focus on the smell of burnt flesh and ozone in the air. The creatures attacking him have been blasted away, and Bruce rolls over with a groan and begins to push himself to his feet. He sees the rest of the League still out cold but untouched by the magic, and he breathes a brief sigh of relief. He pushes himself up the rest of the way, staggering the few feet over to where he notices, with a stutter in his heartbeat and a screaming ache in his gut, 15 year old Billy Batson hunched over on one knee, cradling a badly bleeding arm and surrounded by carnage. 

  Batman drops to his knees next to Billy, reaching for the wounded arm. Billy whimpers slightly as Batman touches it, and the ache in his gut is a roaring shout. He gently looks it over, jaw clenching at the multiple lacerations bleeding profusely across the boy's bicep, a lucky strike from the claws of one of the beasts after he transformed. Bruce starts to reach for the gauze he carries in his pouch, but Billy pulls his arm away, stifling another cry of pain. 

  “I’m fine, it’ll go away when I turn back,” he grits out through the pain, and Bruce is shocked to realize it’s the first time he’s ever heard Billy’s real voice. It sounds so young, so much like Damian that it twists the ache in his gut into a sharp, agonizing pain. He wants nothing more than to wrap Billy’s arm in a sling and make him sit in bed until he’s long past healed, but he understands. Its faster to simply transform again, and Billy doesn’t want the rest of the league to know. Bruce only knows because he’s paranoid, and he confronted Billy about it to make sure he wasn’t going to endanger the team. But that was all still in theory. He’s never seen Billy as himself until now, and it’s that much harder to stand back and let Billy say the word that will turn him back into Shazam. There’s another blinding flash of lightning, harmless this time, and then Shazam is there again, whole and unbloodied, and Bruce has to force himself to go back to Batman. “Right. There could be more, let’s get the others up.” The shift back to Shazam’s voice is so jarring to Bruce it feels like he just got punched. He shakes it off, knowing Shazam is right. He makes his way over to J’onn while Shazam head to Flash, crouching down next to the Martian and tapping his cheek somewhat harshly. 

  “J’onn. We need to go,” he says gruffly, pleased when J’onn immediately groans back to consciousness. “Up, friend. It’s time to go home,” Batman coaxes, and J’onn slowly rolls to sit up. 

  “It is a good thing you and Shazam make such a good team, Batman,” J’onn says slowly, and Batman lets one corner of his mouth lift slightly. 

  “Teamwork had nothing to do with it.”

   They make it back to the Watchtower without a problem, and Batman breathes a silent sigh of relief as soon as they’re back. He doesn’t let Shazam out of his sight as he makes sure J’onn and Flash head to the medbay to get checked out. When the two of them wander off, grumpily on Flash’s part, Batman follows after Shazam. He catches up to him just outside his chamber doors, and Bruce calls his name, softly. 

 “Billy.” Shazam freezes, hand on the access panel to his room, and Bruce walks closer. “Can we talk.” There’s nothing for a moment, and then Shazam nods. 

 “Yeah, sure. Come in?” Bruce nods, and Shazam opens his door and heads inside, Bruce on his heels. The door slides shut behind them, and Shazam sits heavily in the bed, looking up at Batman expectantly. Bruce sighs, tempted to pull the cowl away but leaving it on anyway. 

 “Are you okay,” he says, not attempting to keep most of the growl he usually does as Batman. It seems to startle Shazam, because his eyes widen slightly. He looks away, but nods. 

 “Yeah. Of course. I am now, I’ve got the courage of Achilles,” Shazam says firmly, but Bruce waits, hearing the slightest bit of pain in his voice. “So I’m fine, now. But I wasn’t. Turning back to me, watching the lightning destroy all those creatures, watching it– hearing it hurt you–” Billy stops, staring at his hands. “I know I had no choice. I know that was the best option, as Billy and as Shazam. But without Shazam it… it hurt. It was terrifying. And I don’t feel it, now, but I did. Usually when I turn back to myself after a mission, when I’m home, I’ll remember what happened and feel some of it as Billy. But it’s always detached, and it’s like a secondary emotion. But this time, this time I was me when it happened. And I’ve never hurt someone on my team before and of course it happens when I’m Billy. And Shazam’s not afraid, but Billy is. I don’t want to turn back and feel it all over again, Batman.” Billy is rambling now, and Bruce has stayed still and quiet, feeling the ache in his gut spread to his chest with each new sentence. He takes a step forward after Billy is quiet for a moment, and crouches down in front of him, ignoring the physical ache in his body from the lightning blast. 

  “Billy,” he says again, and Shazam’s eyes meet his. “Do your foster parents know about your powers?” Shazam looks surprised, but he nods. “Do they know about the League?” Shazam nods again. “Do they know what you were doing today?” This time Shazam hesitates, and Bruce waits. 

  “They know I had a League mission. They, uh, they don’t know it was offworld.” 

  “Do they expect you home tonight?” Shazam frowns, and Bruce would almost smile at the childish look on a grown man’s face if it were anyone but Billy. 

  “I guess so, yeah, why?” 

  “Can you call them and tell them you’re staying at a friend’s house for the night?” Bruce wasn’t even sure of this idea until the words were out of his mouth, but now he’s positive it’s the right thing. When Shazam nods uncertainly, Bruce claps a hand onto his knee and stands, grunting. “Good. Call them, tell them you’re staying with Tim Drake-Wayne, a friend you know in Gotham from an old foster home. And then meet me at my quarters, okay?” Bruce doesn’t even wait for an answer, knowing Billy will do exactly as he’s asked. He exits the room slowly, leaning against the wall the second the door slides closed behind him. He takes a moment to breathe, to try to will away the aching pain in his gut and chest, and the actual, physical pain across every part of him from the lightning. When he feels like he can move again, he straightens slowly and makes his way towards his own quarters to gather his things and wait for Billy to come meet him. 

  Almost 15 minutes later, there’s a knock on his door. Bruce grunts as he gets up from the bed he made the mistake of lying on for a few minutes, willing himself to ignore the pain. Billy doesn’t need to feel guilty for something Bruce has dealt with a million times before. He opens the door to see Shazam standing in front of him with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a determined look on his face. Bruce turns and heads back inside, letting Billy follow him in. 

  “Just let me grab my bag, and we’ll go. Your parents take it okay?” He calls over his shoulder as he reaches down to grab his bag sitting on the floor next to the bed. Why didn’t you grab this before, you idiot. He can’t help the groan of discomfort as he forces his body to bend more than it wants to at the moment, hoping that Billy didn’t hear it but knowing he did anyway. 

  “They’re good. They know who the Wayne’s are, so they’re surprised I know one of them and never said, but they’re also proud I never tried to use that to my advantage before,” Shazam says quietly, and Bruce feels a warm rush of affection at the pride in Billy’s voice when he talks about his parents. 

  “You’ve got good parents, Billy.” Bruce rides out another wave of pain as he straightens with the bag in his hand, and he doesn’t miss the frown on Shazam’s face or the furrow in his brow when he turns around. 

  “You’re in pain.” It’s not even a question. Shazam speaks with such surety and despair Bruce almost winces. 

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had worse, trust me,” he says wryly, knowing it’s probably not the best way to comfort Billy but not knowing any other way. Shazam’s frown stays put, but he doesn’t say anything else, and Bruce counts that as a win. Instead he adjusts his grip on his bag, almost nervously, and Bruce wonders just how much Billy’s subconscious feelings control Shazam’s actions. He decided they’ve stood around waiting for long enough. “Right. You ready,” he asks, and Shazam nods. 

  “Yep. Um… where are we going?” Once again Bruce is hit by how childish Shazam still seems. 

  “The Cave.” 

Chapter Text

  The moment they step out of the Zeta tube into the Cave, Bruce knows he’s made the right decision. The look on Shazam’s face is brighter than Bruce had seen him all day. And while he knew there were still going to be some hurdles and issues later, right now, seeing that look on his face is worth it. 

  “Welcome back, sir. I see you’ve brought a visitor?” Bruce looks up to see Alfred standing just outside the medbay, still dressed for the day and holding a steaming mug of what is most likely tea. “Should I make another cup of tea?” Bruce glances over to Billy to see him turning slowly in a circle to stare at everything around him. 

  “Thanks, Alfred, I think we’ll be alright.” He taps Billy on the shoulder, smirking slightly when he jumps and whirls around in surprise. Shazam’s face flushes a bright red, and Bruce is amused to see that he actually can. “Come on, Alfred needs to sleep.” He makes his way over to Alfred, taking the mug from him with a quiet thank you. “Alfred, this is Shazam. Shazam, this is Alfred. Alfred is–”

  “Your foster dad! Right?” There’s a brief silence, despite the excited look on Shazam’s face, where Bruce holds his breath. Billy’s not wrong, technically, but even Bruce isn’t sure how Alfred will react to that. And then Alfred smiles, and Bruce exhales. 

  “Indeed, my good man. I am also his butler, but let’s not remind him of that, shall we?” he stage-whispers conspiratorially, and Shazam grins wildly. Bruce groans, and they both grin wider. “Now, will either of you be needing anything? I trust you’re not injured?” 

  “No, we’re fine, Alfred,” Bruce says quickly, before Shazam can respond. “The team still out?” Alfred nods. 

  “They’ve been out for nearly two hours now, I expect them back sometime in the next few hours. They promised no later than 3, sir,” Alfred confirms, and Bruce can’t resist the urge to punch the bridge of his nose. 

  “Hnnn. I wish you would’ve bargained for earlier, Al,” he mumbles, and Alfred’s eyebrow raises just slightly. “Sorry, Al. Long day,” Bruce sighs, and Alfred softens. Billy watches this exchange with a rapt attentive look, and Bruce clears his throat. “Why don’t you go sleep, Al, Shazam and I will wait up for the kids.” Alfred simply nods, but Bruce can see he appreciates the early rest. 

  “I think I shall, sir. Is Shazam staying the night?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind, Alfred. I imagine there’s a room made up already, you don’t need to do anything now?” Bruce hopes Alfred will agree, and not insist he make up a fresh room. To his relief, Alfred nods again. 

  “Of course, I’ll just make sure it’s all in order,” he answers, and Bruce supposes that’s a small victory, anyway. 

  “Thanks, Alfred. Get some rest,” he says in lieu of goodnight, and Alfred smiles softly. 

  “Goodnight, sir.” With that Alfred turns to head upstairs. He makes it ten steps before turning around again, and Bruce nearly sighs. “The room just before the stairs, by the way,” he calls back to them, and Bruce breathes easily. He nods, and Alfred smiles again before turning to walk the rest of the way to the elevator. When the door closes behind him, Bruce turns back to Billy. 

  “You ready to change back?” And just like that, Shazam’s entire demeanor darkens. He clenches his jaw tightly, and then nods. 

  “I suppose now is as good a time as any,” he resigns, and Bruce takes an instinctive step back. “Shazam!” Another flash of blinding lightning, and Billy Batson is standing in the middle of the Cave. “This place really is amazing, Batman.” His voice is so young and small and Bruce is still so unused to it, it stings him all over again. He shakes himself, pushing the cowl back gingerly and peeling off the domino mask. It feels strange, unmasking in front of Billy. Other than Clark, Diana, J’onn, and Barry, no one else knows who he really is. Bruce thinks some day he might tell them all, but the others all still keep their identities a secret (from everyone except him), so he hasn’t said anything yet. But it feels unfair, to know about Billy and have him here and not return the trust. 

  “Oh my gosh,” comes the tiny response. Bruce smiles, turning to look at Billy. “You’re… you’re Bruce Wayne? Bruce Wayne is the Batman?? You’ve got to be kidding me. Oh man, Freddie would flip if he knew!” Billy’s voice is almost shrill it’s so excited, and Bruce is actually glad. He almost says something about keeping it a secret, and then he registers just what Billy said. Would flip. If he knew. There’s a slight note of disappointment to the words, as well, despite the excitement, and Bruce realizes he doesn’t have to say anything at all. Somehow, Billy understands it’s still a secret. Bruce feels an overwhelming fondness for the teenager standing in front of him. 

  “Come on, let’s go make sure your arm doesn’t have any issues.”

  He leads Billy into the medbay, wordlessly gesturing him up into a gurney. 

  “Honestly, Mr. Wayne, I heal when I’m Shazam. It’s fine,” Billy practically whines, and Bruce is suddenly reminded of Tim. He pointedly ignores Billy, instead looking at the torn long sleeve tee Billy is wearing. The shirt is shredded across the bicep, and it’s still covered in dried blood, but there’s no sign of any injury underneath other than a few faint red lines. Satisfied, he steps back, and Billy slides down off the gurney. “See? It isn’t always the perfect solution, but for most little things like that, if I change back to Shazam for a while right away, I heal.” Bruce doesn’t even know why, but that calm statement sets off alarm bells in his head so loud he flinches. 

  “And you know it’s not perfect how exactly?” He’s entirely too satisfied when Billy freezes mid crouch, hand hovering over his duffle bag on the floor. 

  “Uhh… I got…. stabbed? A couple months after I got my powers,” he mumbles, and Bruce’s blood runs cold. 

  “Go on.”

  “Uhhh hehe well, Freddie and I, we were just having fun, ya know? We were playing with my powers, testing what I could do, just being idiots, really. I changed back in an alley when we were done, and I may have walked into a drug deal.” He pauses, and Bruce feels like he’s frozen, rooted to the spot. Billy grabs a red zip up hoodie from his bag and stands up, turning to face Bruce and playing with the hem of his tee. “I got stabbed, but I couldn’t change because they would’ve seen me, so I grabbed Freddie and we ran. We didn’t stop for like, half an hour, and when we finally thought we’d run far enough, we ducked into another alley.” Billy makes his way back over the the gurney and hops up onto it, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. He’s still fiddling with the hem of his tee shirt, and Bruce wants to reach out and stop him but he still can’t bring himself to move. Billy looks down and continues. “I was bleeding pretty bad, and I knew I needed to change or I–” he falters, and Bruce feels sick. “It was bad. So I changed, and I could feel it healing right away. But I don’t know if I didn’t stay Shazam long enough, or if it was too long before I transformed…” Billy trails off, but instead of finishing, he pulls the hem of his tee up and slides it off. He slips his arms into the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling it around him, but without it zipped Bruce can still see the puckered skin of a poorly healed scar, a jagged line maybe an inch long just below his ribs. Bruce inhales sharply, unconsciously taking a step forward. Billy looks up, a hard to read look in his eyes. “That scared me, that day. But I haven’t felt that scared as Shazam any other time, until today. I’m not worried about being scared after I turn back into Billy. Like I said before, it’s always like, a second hand emotion. But when I’m Billy… I’m scared of being so afraid I can't bring myself to be Shazam anymore.” Billy’s voice is barely more than a whisper, and Bruce’s bones feel like they’re burning. His hands flinch at his sides, as if they want to reach out and hug Billy on their own, but Bruce clenches them into fists. He doesn’t know how Billy would react to that, and he doesn’t want to add anything else to the issue he’s dealing with right now. So he wills himself to unfreeze, willing his stiff and aching limbs to move the couple steps over to the gurney. He forces his body to turn, to sit down on the gurney next to Billy. It’s silent for a moment, the only sound the zipper on Billy’s hoodie as he zips it up around himself. It feels like such a desperate, sad excuse for a hug that Bruce can’t stop himself anymore. He slowly moves to wrap a stiff arm around Billy’s shoulders, giving the boy more than enough time and space to move, to stop him, but there’s no resistance. So Bruce wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Billy leans into it instinctively. 

  It’s as if a dam breaks at his touch. Billy sinks into his side, boneless, and Bruce can feel him shaking against him. Quiet, desperate sobs are muffled and echoed against Bruce’s armor, and he kicks himself mentally for not at least removing the plates. He tries to pull away, maybe remove some of it, but Billy follows the movement and stays burrowed into his side. So Bruce settles into the gurney, and wraps his other arm around the trembling shoulders, feeling the way both of Billy’s arms tighten even more around his waist. 

  “I’m so sorry,” Billy sobs into his armor, and Bruce wants to tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for, but he senses there’s more Billy needs to get out. So he sits, and he listens, and he hugs Billy while he cries. “I’m so sorry. I know you knew what I was doing, and you told me to do it, and I know I had no choice but–” Billy’s voice breaks with a hiccuped sob, and Bruce brings a hand up from his shoulder to rest on the back of his head. “I could see the lightning hitting you, I could hear it and I could hear you yelling, and those animals were yelling and there was so much pain. I know I have to as Shazam, and it doesn’t bother me so much as Shazam, but I wish I didn’t have to cause so much pain. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Batman, I’m so so sorry.” Billy falls into more sobs, and Bruce shushes him softly and gently. 

  “It’s okay. I’m okay, Billy. Believe me, I’m okay. The suit is insulated for things like that, I was prepared. I knew what I was telling you to do, okay?” Billy hiccups again, but Bruce can feel him nodding against his shoulder. “I’m okay. I’m a little sore, but no more than usual after a night in the cowl. I promise. I am okay. You did everything right, and I’m so amazed at how you handle yourself every mission. You did everything you were supposed to, Billy,” he finishes, and Billy’s sobs are now calmed to an occasional sniffle and hiccup. “You understand? You did perfect.” Billy nods again, and Bruce smiles softly. “You okay,” he asks, and this time there’s a loud sniff and then–

  “Yeah. Yeah I’m okay. Thank you,” comes the whispered reply, and Bruce closes his eyes briefly. 

  “You’re welcome, kid. Now come on, let’s get you to bed,” Bruce says, nudging Billy up with an elbow in his side. There’s a brief yelp, somewhere between a hiccup and a giggle, and Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish,” he questions, and Billy stiffens. He quickly extricates himself from glomming onto Bruce’s side, sitting ramrod straight on the gurney. 

  “No,” Billy practically barks, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Bruce raises the other eyebrow, and Billy slowly smiles. “Okay maybe, yeah, but I DON’T WANT TO BE TICKLED AHH BRUCE!!!” He nearly falls off the gurney as Bruce reaches over and grabs him by the sides, applying just enough pressure to make Billy yelp with laughter. “Stop, stop, okay okay I’m ticklish, HNNNG!” Bruce smirks as Billy squeals and squirms trying to get away, laughing so loudly Bruce is sure Alfred must be able to hear it. Just as abruptly as he had started, Bruce stops and stands up, and Billy falls back into it still giggling and sighs. “What the hell,” he gasps, and Bruce clicks his tongue. 

  “Language.” Billy sticks up a finger, and Bruce actually lets out a bark of laughter. “That’s the wrong finger, Batson.” Billy sits up, laughing again. 

  “I know, I can’t bring myself to use the real one, I’m so used to being around Darla,” he says softly, and Bruce wants to cry. “That’s my little sister,” Billy clarifies, and Bruce just nods. He knows who Darla is, he knows everything about Billy’s family. But he nods anyway, and Billy smiles. “You gotta meet her some day, she’s a riot,” Billy grins, and Bruce can’t help but smile back.

  “Someday. Why don’t we get you to bed, for now,” he suggests, and Billy almost looks like he might protest, but it’s cut off by a massive yawn. “Okay definitely bed. You go ahead and gather your things, I’m going to get some of this armor off and then I’ll show you to your room.” Billy nods and slips down off the gurney, grabbing his shredded tee shirt and going to stuff it into his bag. “Here, let's just toss that. I’m sure we can find you a shirt if you need one,” Bruce calls to him from the lockers, and Billy glances down at the shirt on his hands and shrugs. 

  “I have another one in my bag, I’ll be alright.” Bruce nods, and Billy tosses his tee shirt into a nearby wastebin. 

  A few minutes later, Bruce is in still in his suit but minus the armor plating and gloves, and he gestures to Billy to follow him towards the elevator. 

  “You have an elevator? Wait are we in your house right now??” Billy sounds incredulous and awestruck, and Bruce doesn’t say anything, choosing to let the house speak for him. They ride the elevator in silence, and Bruce glances over at Billy trying to gauge his mood. He seems calm, much more at ease than he was a short while ago, and while Bruce can’t tell for sure, he thinks he’s dealing with everything a little better now. He knows better than anyone not to expect that everything is magically okay now, but he hopes maybe it’s better . He resolves to keep in regular contact with Billy, maybe introduce him to some of the kids and see if they’ll get along. It might be good for Billy to have some fellow teenagers who understand his life. He told Billy to tell his parents he was friends with Tim, and maybe that won’t even have to be a lie soon. But for now, he just wants to make sure Billy gets some sleep. They can talk over stuff like that in the morning, after an Alfred breakfast and a Wayne family greeting. 

  When they step off the elevator, Billy’s jaw drops. 

  “You have a secret superhero lair in your basement except it’s a cave? Oh man Freddie would cry.” It’s the second time he’s mentioned Freddie getting emotional over something Bruce related, and Bruce raises an eyebrow. As if Billy has eyes in the back of his head, he continues, “Freddie’s a huge superhero nerd. He thought it was the coolest thing when he found out I had superpowers. He loves Superman the most, he’s like, super jealous that I know him,” he throws over his shoulder, and Bruce stops. “Don’t worry, he likes you too. And I won’t tell him who you are or anything about this place. Even if he would cry over it,” Billy adds, and Bruce hums flatly. Billy giggles, and turns around to face Bruce. “This is amazing, Mr. Wayne, thank you,” he continues, his voice nothing but sincere. Bruce notes with some disappointment that he’s Mr. Wayne again, despite being called Bruce earlier around hiccups and shouts of laughter. He wishes Billy would call him Bruce permanently, but he doesn’t push it. For now he’s happy that Billy seems to be coping, and that’s all Bruce wanted. 

  “You’re welcome, now quit stalling and get to bed.” Bruce’s gruff statement is met by mock stern look and a salute. 

  “Yes sir!” Billy proceeds to stand in place until Bruce reaches him, and then he whirls around in almost a perfect about face and begins walking alongside him. Bruce sighs, reminded briefly of Jason when he was Robin. He pushes that thought from his mind before it brings up images of Billy in the same scenario, and keeps walking next to an increasingly tired Billy. By the time they reach the room Alfred had selected, Billy has yawned four times in probably as many minutes. Bruce feels like that might be a record. Maybe. Bruce opens the door and lets Billy inside, and Billy drops his duffle bag on the floor and whistles quietly. “This is amazing. You have such a cool house, Mr. Wayne,” Billy says through yet another yawn, and again Bruce ignores the formal address. 

  “Thank you. Do you need anything else,” Bruce checks, and Billy thinks for a moment. A strange look comes across his face, and Bruce frowns slightly. 

  “Maybe just, um, a hug? Again?” He sounds so hesitant and unsure asking that Bruce doesn’t even think. He simply strides forward into the room and pulls him into a hug, feeling the way Billy immediately melts into it. There’s a muffled Thank you into his shoulder, and Bruce huffs a laugh. 

  “You’re welcome.” He steps away, watching as Billy smiles happily. “Now sleep. Go. Bed. Now,” he demands, shooing Billy towards the bed. Billy laughs in exasperation, but he obeys, walking over and plopping down onto the bed with a muffled sigh. Bruce shakes his head, and turns to leave. He’s almost closing the door behind him when there’s a faintly muffled Goodnight, Mr. Wayne, and Bruce pauses. 

  “Goodnight, Billy.” He closes the door behind him, fairly certain he already hears Billy snoring. Stiffly, he makes his way back down to the Cave to wait for the rest of his kids to come home. (And if he falls asleep waiting for them, well, they don’t need to know that.)

Chapter Text

  Alfred Pennyworth is grateful to have, for once, gone to bed at a decently human hour. It’s strange how when one is young, one can subsist on all nighters and the like, and when one is middle aged it is harder to function without a full night’s sleep. And yet, when one is older still, suddenly one can function on much less sleep simply because they cannot sleep. But still, Alfred is grateful to have been able to get into his bed only just past midnight, thanks to the off-world mission Bruce was on the day before that saw him gone from only 6pm to just midnight. He is grateful Bruce told him he would wait up for the children, and wake him should there be any medical needs. He is grateful to be able to wake at 6:30am this morning feeling more rested than he has in years. Bruce will be up soon as well, he knows. He knows the children were not out too much later than Bruce was, having woken up briefly to hear Damian and Tim softly arguing as they passed in the hall. 

  So he sits in his kitchen for a few minutes, enjoying his tea and the sounds of the house sleeping calmly around him. After a short time, he rises to begin preparing breakfast, humming softly to himself as he cracks eggs and toasts bread and makes coffee. 

  He is not expecting any of the children up for a little while yet, and Bruce always announces his presence by a long inhale and a sigh at the smell of fresh coffee, so he is not prepared for the sound of footsteps behind him. He turns quickly, spatula in hand, to see a small boy of maybe 14 or 15 standing just inside the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Alfred is stunned silent, staring at the unfamiliar child in a red zip up hoodie and jeans standing in his kitchen. He is not surprised, nor is he startled. He has lived with Bruce and the rest of the Wayne household long enough to be surprised at very little. But he is confused, and then alert. The boy, however, looks perfectly calm, if perhaps a bit sheepish. He scrubs a hand across his eyes again, stifling another yawn. 

  “Um, excuse me, Mr. Alfred, but umm… is Mr. Wayne up yet?”

  To the boy’s credit, he’s so polite it immediately allays any and all concerns Alfred may have been harboring. He’s left with nothing but a sense of resignation and slight frustration at Bruce’s lack of communication, but it is not directed at the boy. Alfred is about to answer, calmly ask the boy’s name, when as if summoned Bruce appears in the doorway. 

  “Morning, Al,” he mumbles, voice thick and tired as he breathes in the smell of coffee as always. He’s rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning in a way so strikingly similar to the boy standing just inside that Alfred has a brief, horrifying thought that this one isn’t adopted. He notices the way the young boy glances over his shoulder and watches his eyes widen slightly, his thick, dark eyebrows rising in a very familiar way. Alfred is once again struck by the innate similarity between the two people in front of him, and he questions the child’s parentage once more. He quickly shakes the thought from his mind (though not completely), and decides to test the waters. 

  “Good morning, sir. In future, Master Bruce, I would appreciate it if you would at least warn me next time you take in another child,” he says calmly, forcing himself to say take in and not father. And then he is surprised when Bruce looks at him with as close a look of incredulity as Bruce Wayne will ever give. 

  “Alfred what—” Bruce almost stutters, before seeming to notice the young boy in the kitchen for the first time. His eyes widen the slightest fraction, eyebrows twitching, and Alfred is genuinely starting to think he might be right about the connection. (Just the thought alone is dizzying. He prays he is wrong, for everyone’s sake.) And then Bruce smiles, briefly, and Alfred might almost think he’s laughing. “Oh,” he mumbles, and it is Alfred’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Bruce shakes his head, and he is definitely laughing now. “Sorry, Al. But I’m not taking him in. This is Billy, you actually met him briefly last night.” Alfred’s other eyebrow goes up, and he looks from Billy to Bruce and back, and Billy smiles brightly and waves. 

  “Nice to officially meet you, Mr. Alfred. I’m Shazam, but you can call me Billy,” the small boy–Shazam–Billy says, and Alfred snaps his attention back to Bruce for confirmation. Bruce simply nods once, a small tilt to his lips, and Alfred sighs. 

  “Oh dear. I see. Well, it is nice to meet you too, Master Billy. Would you like some breakfast?” If the boy is surprised at Alfred’s lack of questioning or surprise, he doesn’t show it beyond a quick glance to Bruce. There’s a slight nod, and Billy turns back to Alfred. 

  “Actually that’d be great, thank you,” he says happily, and Alfred can’t help but smile at the way his eyes light up a bit. He stifles another yawn, and Alfred feels something soften in his chest. He glances over at Bruce and he can tell by the man’s posture, the twitch at his lips that Bruce feels it too. He simply cannot help himself, Alfred thinks exasperatedly, but fondly all the same. Neither can I, I suppose, he answers himself, shaking his head briefly. He begins to plate some food for Billy, and one for Bruce as well, as the man makes his way over to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug. Alfred hears the tiny sigh as Bruce takes a sip, and he smiles to himself. He sets a plate down at the small kitchen table, and Billy quietly makes his way over to sit down. Despite his apparent calm and ease when introducing himself, Alfred can tell the young man is still slightly uncomfortable, likely entirely due to the fact that he is now sitting in Batman’s kitchen eating breakfast in his civilian clothes. Or rather, civilian form, Alfred corrects. But he does sit down, and he lets out a happy little sigh at the sight of the food in front of him, once again causing Alfred to question Bruce’s honesty in this scenario. Or perhaps he just doesn’t know? But it’s absurd either way, he’s simply seeing things that aren’t there. It’s not as if it would be unheard of, however. Alfred shushes his brain, scolding back the rebellion of his thoughts, and goes to sit at the table across from Billy. The young man across from him hums softly as he takes a bite of eggs, and then Alfred sees him open his mouth for a brief moment before it shuts with a snap. Alfred has raised enough teenage boys to know the child wishes to ask for something but does not want to impose. So he simply says, “can I get you anything else, Master Billy?”

  Billy’s head shoots up to meet Alfred’s eyes, and he looks startled for the first time. 

  “Uh... well, could I have some coffee? I don’t know if there’s enough, it’s okay if there’s not–” Alfred cuts off his now-nervous rambling with a wave of his hand and a tutt. 

  “Nonsense, my boy, of course there’s enough. Master Bruce, would you pour young Billy a mug of coffee?” Bruce looks up from his spot leaned against the counter, and Alfred can see the words he wants to say. You’re too young for coffee, it’s not good for you

. Alfred bites back a smile as Bruce bites back his words, and turns to grab another mug and pour some coffee into it. He really cannot help it, Alfred chuckles to himself. Bruce makes his way over to the table and sets the mug down in front of Billy, and the boy’s eyes widen again just slightly as he slowly takes it, gaze locked on Bruce with what Alfred thinks is a tiny bit of hero worship. Bruce sits down at the seat to Billy’s right, where Alfred has already set the other plate, and if he notices the look of awe and admiration in Billy’s eyes he doesn’t react. 

  For a moment there’s nothing but silence, and then Bruce takes another sip of his coffee, and it’s like the tension dissolves immediately. Billy relaxes into his chair and takes a sip of his own coffee, and Alfred nearly chokes on his own tea when both of them let out identical sighs of contentment as the coffee hits their taste buds. He’s grateful his mouth is empty a second later when the quiet moment is shattered by a very loud, very profane Jason Todd choosing that moment to walk into the kitchen. 

  “Shit!” Alfred whirls around to glare at Jason’s gaping face, but the older boy ignores him entirely. “Another one? Gorram, B, does Dames know he has an older brother?” If looks could kill, Alfred is certain Jason would be dead from the look he is giving him right now, but Jason doesn’t even seem to notice, or care. He’s simply staring back and forth between Bruce and Billy, no doubt seeing the very thing Alfred has seen all morning. The similarities manifesting now in the identical way Billy and Bruce are holding their mugs, the handle facing away from them and both hands threaded around it, both sets of elbows braced on the table. Alfred has no doubt Jason also witnessed the perfect synchronization of content sighs, likely what prompted the exclamation from the young man in the first place. There are more things that might imply a blood connection between the two, such as the heavy brows and the hazel eyes, the sharp jaws and wide smiles (or the potential for them). But it’s mostly the mannerisms, the uncanny way they both sit up a bit straighter in their chairs, the way they shift slightly, looking at Jason with identical looks of confusion. Billy breaks the mirrorization first, turning a confused look to Bruce, who is still staring at Jason. 

  “Uhh, what?” Billy’s voice cuts through the silence, and Jason seems to come to his senses. He shakes his head, stalking towards the empty chair across from Bruce. 

  “Sorry, kid. But, no offense, who the hell are you? Because to me, it looks like Bruce fu–” Alfred clears his throat sharply, and Jason flinches, quickly changing tracks. “Uh, well, it looks like Bruce has another bio kid.” 

  Billy’s eyebrows skyrocket as Bruce’s mug hits the table with a sudden clunk, splashing coffee slightly onto the polished wood. Alfred frowns, and Bruce has the decency to look somewhat chastised before focusing back on Jason, who also looks somewhat demure at the look on poor Billy’s face. 

  “What,” Bruce nearly hisses, and Alfred wants to reach out and shake him when Billy stiffens slightly. “He’s not– I didn’t– he doesn’t even look like me!” Bruce is almost sputtering, and Alfred would laugh if it weren’t for the boy sitting across from him staring into his mug, jaw clenched so tight Alfred swears he can hear his teeth grinding. Jason simply snorts in reply, throwing his hands up. 

  “Are you serious? Bruce, look at him! He’s got your eyebrows, your stupidly sharp jawline, he even drinks his damn coffee like you! If he’s not yours, where the hell did he come from?” 

  Both sets of Wayne eyes (the known, legal ones) turn to look at Alfred, and he sighs in exasperation. Jason raises an eyebrow expectantly, and Bruce’s face is a perfect mix of confusion, frustration, and shame. Alfred takes pity on him, a little bit, but mostly on the young lad in the center of this debacle. 

  “I must say, sir, he does look and act remarkably like you. However,” he continues, holding up a hand to Jason who quickly snaps his mouth shut, “young Billy here is a guest, here on…” Alfred trails off, looking to Bruce. Alfred is not aware if either Bruce or Billy want others to know of his alter ego, so he leaves it up to one of them to speak up as they see fit. Bruce turns to Billy, and the young boy looks up from his coffee slowly. 

  “I’m okay if you are, Mr. Wayne,” he says quietly, and even Jason seems to soften. Bruce clearly wants to correct the boy for addressing him so formally, but Alfred is pleased and proud when he simply lets it be. 

  “Jay, this is Billy Batson. Billy, this is my son Jason, also known as Red Hood. Jay, Billy is Shazam, I let him stay the night after a… particularly unpleasant mission last night.” Alfred notices the way Billy’s eyes dart back to the mug in his hands, hands that hold it so tightly the knuckles have gone white. Bruce notices too, and immediately sets a hand on Billy’s shoulder. The boy tenses briefly, before melting into it. His eyes close, and he exhales loudly, before looking back up at Jason. 

  “Nice to meet you, Jason. You’re… you’re Red Hood? That’s amazing,” Billy breathes, and Alfred doesn’t miss the way Bruce squeezes his shoulder slightly and looks relieved as he watches Billy closely. Alfred realizes something must have happened offworld last night, something that Bruce felt traumatized the boy enough to bring him to the Cave and reveal closely guarded secrets. Alfred feels a rush of pride for his son, and a rush of affection for this boy sitting across from him. Jason must sense enough to get a decent picture of the circumstances, because he smiles widely, but Alfred can see the sadness in it. 

  “Kid, you’re Shazam?! That’s insane. You’re a League member? Dude you’re like, 12, that’s impossible.” He gestures wildly with his arms, and Billy’s face darkens comically. 

  “I’m 15,” he mumbles, and Bruce lets out an undignified snort. Jason shoots him a surprised look, and Bruce just shakes his head in exasperation. “I’m 15,” Billy says again with more confidence, “but becoming Shazam turns me into an adult. Like, I still have all my same thoughts and ideas and memories, and I’m still a kid but being him makes me smarter. I think all the same things I think as me but I also know strategies and plans and the best things to do in certain situations. So really, my age as Billy doesn’t matter when I’m Shazam.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice, and Alfred gets the distinct feeling he’s saying this more for Bruce’s benefit than Jason’s now. “I may not be brave as Billy, but I have the bravery of Achilles when I’m Shazam” he adds on, and Alfred has no doubt this is directed at Bruce entirely. Something happened to Billy as himself, Alfred realizes, and he immediately understands why Bruce let him into the Cave and their life. Bruce’s jaw tightens, and so does his grip on Billy’s shoulder. 

  “I know, Billy. I know. I’m not going to bench you, if that’s what you’re worried about, okay? I know you can handle things as Shazam. It’s why you were able to make the decision you made yesterday. It’s not you as Shazam that I'm worried about.” Bruce’s voice is soft, as if he’s speaking only for Billy to hear, and Alfred aches to realize he was correct in his assumptions about what happened. Jason seems confused, but he seems to understand the personal nature of the moment, and doesn’t say anything. He meets Alfred’s eyes, and he’s not entirely surprised to see the same ache he feels echoed there. There’s a quiet sniff, and Alfred looks back to the other two to see Billy wiping a hand across his face. Billy nods, and Bruce squeezes his shoulder again before letting go. “Come on, finish your food, I want to show you some things before you head home,” Bruce says louder than before, lightly tapping the table next to his plate. Alfred and Jason share a look, and Jason mouths something that looks a lot like Bat Dad before grinning wildly. Alfred snorts, watching as Billy smiles and nods, digging into his food despite the fact that it’s probably now cold.

  When the rest of the family trickles into the kitchen over the next half hour, Alfred makes fresh batches of food and coffee and listens to Bruce and Billy explain the situation again. He briefly tenses for the explosion from Damian when the younger boy finds out Billy is a member of the League and Bruce is aware, but he is pleasantly surprised when there’s nothing but a quiet muttering and a brief sulk before even Damian can’t help but join in the conversation with Billy and the rest of his siblings. Alfred smiles softly as he works, listening to the laughing and the stories as the kids all revel in having another one their age to understand and be understood by, and once again Alfred feels a rush of pride for Bruce, for bringing him here to let him experience this with kids his age, for knowing what the boy needed and giving it to him unbidden. 

  God our creator, we thank you for the gift of this child, entrusted to our care.

  Alfred knows Billy is in good hands, in both his personal life (he smiles as he listens to Billy tell Tim about his little sister, and his foster parents) and his cape one (he listens to Bruce explaining how he hopes to teach Billy self defense, just in case). 

  God our creator, we thank you for the gift of this child, entrusted to our care.