Chapter Text
Billy sat down on the edge of the curb, his head starting to spin again.
“Fuck. My. Life.” He mumbled under his breath, trying to keep the earth under his feet from tumbling out of control.
What the hell was up with all these random headaches?
He pressed his hand up to his mouth, his fingers resting on the bridge of his nose. His other hand, he pressed into the fabric of his hoodie, hoping the shoddy material would help stem the bleeding.
“Billy!” A deep voice boomed from above, and the boy toppled off the curb in fear.
On reflex, Billy scrambled to find a weapon of some kind; finding a shard from a broken beer bottle and picked it up. The edges of the shard were quite sharp, and he almost scraped his own fingers.
“Whoa— dude, chillax. It’s me.”
He looked up to see a middle-aged man, with brown hair and dressed in a bright blue spandex suit with a lightning bolt insignia. The man happened to be also hovering a few feet of the ground, white cape fluttering in the faint breeze.
Okay, that was definitely weird. Billy didn’t know any middle-aged men— certainly not any middle-aged superheroes who didn’t bother concealing their identities and had a costume designed to look like a comic book character from the 80s.
“Um, hello?” He squinted at the unknown man, tightening his grip on the glass shard. “Do I know you?”
The man quizzically titled his head, before dropping to the ground. He arched an eyebrow. "You... Uh, don’t remember me?"
"Do you think I know you if I’m pointing this extremely sharp glass shard at you?” Billy shot back. His hand shook slightly as he held the shard, and he took a few steps back.
The man looked around, then lowered his voice, “Well, it’s me. Freddy.”
”Wait— what?” Billy squawked. “Freddy— um,” his brain scrambled to remember, ”Freddy Freeman?”
The older boy only confirmed this with a small nod.
”Freddy as in my foster sibling?”
His puny foster brother was a superhero? And also the fact he’d never seen the superhero around in New York before? He was learning so much weird and random information today. A secret lair, a brother who was secretly a superhero; what next? How much mind blowing things could he learn in one day? Next, Freddy was going to tell him that Peter didn’t exist, or he, himself was also a superhero.
Fuck. Ow.
Another slew of headaches came, and he squeezed the shard a little too hard and cut his fingers. He dropped the shard of glass and leaned against the building to steady himself. If only the headaches would leave him alone for one goddamn moment.
“What the actual fuck is going on?” Billy asked, pressing his bloody palm against his forehead. "Why are you all acting as if I knew all of this information already? Also what happened to New York?"
"Okay, well first of all, we're in Philadelphia, not New York. And, as far as I’m concerned I don’t think neither me or you have been there." Freddy moved closer to him, looking as though he expected Billy to collapse at any moment.
“We’ve—“ Billy quickly cut himself off because clearly Freddy seemed intent on disagreeing with him like always, “I’ve always lived in New York so I don’t know why you keep talking about Philadelphia— also can you change back to your normal, little form or something? Just— you as an adult in tights doesn’t sit well with me.”
Freddy looked slightly disgruntled by the comment but ended up looking around, and seeing no one, he yelled, “Shazam!”
A huge flash of light, the smell of something sizzling and a loud cracking noise made Billy jump, and he promptly fell flat on his back. As the smoke cleared, it did turn out that, in fact, yes the man in tights was indeed his dear foster brother.
Freddy held out his hand to help him back up, but Billy got up by himself, ignoring Freddy.
“What kind of superhero call is that?” Billy snorted, quickly recollecting himself as best he could. “Shazam? Isn’t that an app that, like, listens to songs and tells you what the specific song is?”
Freddy stared at him, as though he was waiting for something to happen. Billy stared at him back, and his face read hello, why are you staring at me?
“Okay, who are you and what have you done to Billy?” Freddy finally blurted out.
“I am Billy! Billy Batson. What have you done to the Freddy I knew, who was just another weird foster kid?” Billy burst out, feeling anger taking over. He immediately felt stupid for making that comment— he never prided himself as a bully in any way.
Freddy’s mouth fell open at the remark, a tiny angry noise coming out. “Okay, you are definitely not Billy.”
“I am.” Billy insisted, but his voice was now quiet. He felt his face flush.
“I—“ Freddy started, but then seemed to change his mind. “Let’s just get you home.”
Freddy turned back into the man in tights, and freaking flew them back.
The feeling of flying could almost beat the swinging around New York, but swinging around New York meant he could cling as tightly as he could to Peter. With Freddy however, Billy felt like he was about to drop him at any moment.
Freddy dropped him off in the backyard, before backing away and yelled Shazam! again, then turned back into his normal self.
Billy could almost kiss the ground in relief. He felt like he could trust Freddy even less than he had before, from this terrible flying experience.
He ushered Billy into the house, where the rest of the foster kids were waiting for them. Darla rushed over to give him a hug, but Freddy intercepted her.
“This isn’t Billy." Freddy pointed at him. Upon hearing that, Pedro stepped protectively in front of Darla and Eugene. The whole lot of his foster siblings stepped back, until they were a couple of feet away, with Freddy standing in front of everyone else.
"I am Billy Batson. How many fucking times do I have to tell you?" Billy crossed his arms.
“Language.” Mary warned.
“What do you mean?” Darla asked, scrunching up her face. “He looks like Billy— oh no! You’re one of those shapeshifting bad guys?” She let out a small gasp. Billy felt the urge to facepalm.
”I knew something was off about him, when we found him in the cavern.” Eugene muttered, as he peered over Pedro's shoulder, studying Billy carefully.
“Say S-H-A-Z-A-M.” Freddy talked over the two, staring at Billy.
"What, Shazam? Again? Why?" Billy averted his gaze, and stared at his socks. The bright green contrasted against the cheery red of the wooden floor, and he shuffled one foot. He could feel the stares of his foster siblings burning holes into his skin. Emotions were beginning to bubble up inside of him.
"See? Not Billy. This guy has no idea what s-h-a-z-a-m even is!" Freddy exclaimed, waving his hands about. "So, I'm going to ask you this once again; who are you?"
Billy slowly raised his head up, clenching his fist. He was done with these ridiculous accusations.
He stared right at Freddy. "My name," he stated, taking a dramatic pause. "Is Billy Batson."
He took in a long breath. "I live in New York, in a foster home and share a room with someone who is obsessed with the Avengers." Maintaining eye contact with Freddy, he began to walk forward.
"My mother is Marilyn Batson, and I keep running away to try and find her. My best friend is Peter Parker. Um, and I rarely talk to you guys so I don’t understand what’s going on!"
Standing only a step away from Freddy, he spoke. "So, here’s my question for you. Since when have you all been superheroes and have a fucking lair? Why are we suddenly living in Philadelphia? And why do you guys care so much about Billy Batson— me, anyways?"