Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clark felt like his head was going to explode. 

In front of him, laid out on one of the med bay cots, was a little boy. The bed itself dwarfed him. He was tiny, painfully small, Clark’s brain supplied him with a sickening estimate on the boy’s height and weight. A kid. 

Captain Marvel was a kid. 

Clark ran his hands through his hair and kept on staring, not glancing up when Bruce and Wally entered. Wally had been the closest to Marvel, and he seemed to be taking this news the hardest. There was a certain level of betrayal there, of hurt at not having been trusted with this secret, but Clark could sense the guilt in him, at not being enough, not being safe enough, trustworthy enough, good enough for Marvel to have confided in him. 

Everyone in the League, probably including Marvel himself, would tell Wally that that’s a load of horseshit. Everyone in the League also knew that Wally wouldn’t really believe them. 

Bruce and Wally sat down on the boy’s other side. Technically, they had a rotating watch schedule, but Clark hadn’t gotten up since they’d brought him here, and no one tried to force him. He thought back to the moments before Marvel had collapsed, out on a hellish battlefield, the fighting silenced by the explosive power of the Captain’s transformation. 

Clark had run to him, seeing the flash, not knowing if he needed to congratulate or save Marvel, and instead found this little boy, leaning on the smoking corpse of the enemy Clark had already forgotten the name of. He’d knelt down, recognizing his friend in the boy’s soft features, and gently patted him over to look for injuries. 

“Marvel? What- What is this? What happened?” 

“The power of the gods,” Marvel had slurred, struggling to focus on Clark’s face. Clark fell into one of the automatic lines he used for civilians, especially when they asked questions about God. It was the wrong thing to do; he knew it the moment he said it. 

“God gives people trials. He breaks people down to make them stronger.” It felt bitter to say, coating his mouth in ash. Clark didn’t believe it one bit, but he’d seen it offer some comfort before. Captain Marvel’s expression was heavy and pained, the weight of someone much, much older. 

“He could’ve been a little gentler.” 

Clark caught him when he sagged into unconsciousness, noting symptoms of exhaustion, shock, hunger, and froze up, not knowing how to react. His brain was running a mile a minute, telling him what to do, and his arms just tightened around the boy like he could protect him from the pain. 

Bruce laid a hand on Clark’s shoulder, startling him out of his reflections, and Clark glanced over at Wally to see him staring at Marvel with the same intense look. 

“I checked in Fawcett, facial recognition.” Bruce paused, looking over at Marvel, jaw tight under his mask. 

“Batman?” 

“He’s ten,” Bruce breathed, and Wally and Clark both looked up at him in shock. 

“Ten?! Our powerhouse is a ten year old?!” Wally exclaimed just as Clark snapped at Bruce, “That’s not what a ten year old should look like, dammit.” 

Both men looked at one another, expressions tight with worry. They were both right; their team’s heaviest hitter shouldn’t be a kid, shouldn’t be able to be a kid. Their team’s heaviest hitter also shouldn’t look two years too young and twenty pounds underweight. Bruce dragged his chair around to sit beside Clark. 

All three sat in relative silence for a few long moments. 

“The power of the gods,” Clark recited. Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s what he said to me,” Clark explained. “I… I told him that God breaks people down to make them stronger, and he told me he could’ve been gentler.” Bruce nodded slowly. Wally closed his eyes. 

“ We could’ve been gentler,” Bruce breathed, practically to himself. Clark was inclined to agree. He could think of all the times he’d seen Bruce shout at Marvel for an irresponsible move on the field, all the times he himself had gotten snippy with the man for being too flippant or unserious. How dare a child act like a child? How dare they scold him for it? 

Captain Marvel’s breathing changed, but he didn’t open his eyes, and Clark let him be still for a few moments longer, not alerting the others. 

The boy shifted, opening his eyes slowly, squinting at the lights. Wally was at the door in an instant, dimming them, and Marvel mumbled a quiet thanks. His voice was raspy; Bruce half-stood to offer him a paper cup of water. 

Captain Marvel sat up gingerly, the sheets hushing underneath him as he accepted it and drank it slowly, draining it completely before setting it on the table beside him. He kept his gaze in his own lap, folding his legs to sit up more comfortably. 

“Do I have to leave?” he asked quietly. Clark and Bruce traded a look; they’d already made a decision, practically without needing to discuss it, but the rest of the team probably wouldn’t like it. 

“No,” Bruce responded softly, and the boy glanced up in surprise. To Wally’s credit, he hardly reacted to Bruce’s answer, keeping his gaze fixed on Marvel’s face. 

“We can’t stop you from using your powers,” Clark explained, drawing the boy’s attention. “And we think we can help you more if you’re in the League, be better support for you.” Marvel nodded slowly. All three adults looked between one another, a silent agreement settling, and Wally leaned forward, resting his elbows on the foot of the bed with a smile. 

“You already know my name is Wally. Wally West.” 

Bruce leaned back, frowning under his cowl, but still continued. “My real name is Bruce Wayne.” 

“And I’m Clark Kent.” 

Captain Marvel stared at all three of them in shock, face pale, before straightening. “I’m… My name is Billy Batson.” 

Clark and Wally’s eyebrows flew up in delight. “Batson?” Wally asked incredulously, jerking a thumb at Bruce. “Like the bat’s-son ? You’d better warn your parents to watch their back, man, we all know how he is with kids.” 

Bruce huffed, crossing his arms and looking aside, hiding a smile as Billy laughed softly. 

“Don’t worry, my parents won’t care. They’re not worried about much these days.” 

Wally smiled in confusion, but Clark recognized an odd tone, and Bruce seemed to as well. 

“Billy, do your parents know about this? About Captain Marvel?” 

Billy flushed, pressing his lips together. “No, they don’t know.” 

“Why not?” 

Billy mumbled something only Clark caught, and he stiffened in surprise. Bruce and Wally looked to Clark expectantly, who cleared his throat. 

“Billy.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Please tell me you have some adult you’re living with.” 

Billy pressed his lips together and said nothing. Bruce leaned forward. 

“Billy, where are you living?” 

Still the boy stubbornly didn’t respond. Clark tried to convince himself he didn’t notice the glint of excitement in Bruce’s eyes. 

“Clark, I need to make a call, give me a second.” Clark sighed, pressing a hand over his eyes. Billy and Wally shrugged to one another as Bruce stood, pacing to the other side of the room and pulling out his phone with his own logo on the back. 

Whoever he called picked up on the first ring, and Clark, Billy, and Wally listened unabashedly to his conversation. 

“Yes. I- No, Alfred, I’m fine.” 

“Alfred?” Wally hissed, leaning over Clark. 

“Everything’s fine, I just- yes, I’m fine I just said that, I promise. I need you to check if we ca- no , let me finish , do we have room for another kid?” 

There was a long pause, and only Clark could make out Alfred ranting irritably about Bruce’s talent for picking up strays as though he wasn’t just as attached to the many children in the manor. 

“No, no, I understand, just- do we? I don’t even know why I’m asking, of course we do.” Bruce paused, taking a steadying breath before flashing his Brucie grin. “By the way, the kid is Captain Marvel.” Alfred’s shocked exclamation was cut off when Bruce ended the call, and he pocketed the phone, returning to the group as he wrestled his expression back to neutrality. 

“So Billy,” Bruce began, and Billy leaned back in confusion. Clark noticed Wally doing the same and bit back a laugh. “How would you feel about commuting to Fawcett?” 

“I-I don’t know,” the boy tried, exhausted brain trying to find some way out of this impromptu adoption. “It’s important for me to be in Fawcett, there’s a lot of things I have to be physically present to respond to.” 

Bruce nodded like he’d expected this. “Right, I understand. Well, when we get back to the manor we can sit down with Alfred and pick out a property you like in Fawcett.” 

Billy sputtered, trying to refuse, but Bruce just stood, patting his head and pulling his phone back out to send Alfred a text. Wally lost his battle against his own laughter, doubling over, and Billy smacked him on the shoulder. 

“This isn’t funny!” and Clark found himself laughing as well, the boy’s shrill voice finally piercing the absurdity of the situation. 

Bruce was at the door, pulling it open to address the rest of the League, and soon Diana and Zatanna were rushing in, pulling Billy into crushing hugs while scolding him for being reckless. Arthur entered laden with food, a tray full of a well-balanced mix of fruits, cheese, and junk food out of Wally’s stash, and Billy visible perked up at the food. Of course, both Bruce and Clark noticed, and frowned down at the boy. 

“Billy, if you’re living alone-” this elicited a few shocked gasps from those who hadn’t heard before, “-how are you handling rent and food?” 

Billy pursed his lips, accepting the tray Arthur was offering him. 

“...I mean, sometimes I steal food from the Watchtower kitchen…” 

The room exploded in exclamations, Wally and Diana both standing to check if there was anything actually nutritious for Billy to eat in the kitchen, Clark launching into a practiced lecture on the importance of regular meals, while Bruce pulled his phone back out, tapping out a quick text to Alfred, probably telling him to double-check that the manor was well-stocked. 

Billy waved his hands in front of his face defensively. “Nonono, it’s fine! I don’t need to eat when I’m Captain Marvel!” 

Clark crossed his arms sternly. “Does that mean you only eat at the Watchtower when you don’t need to? So you hardly actually eat when you’re in this body?” 

Billy flushed, sputtering, but Zatanna cut in as well. 

“And I highly doubt that food transfers over to sate this body.” 

Clark nodded in thanks to her and redoubled his lecturing, watching the boy shrink in on himself, though his shame at being scolded didn’t stop him from digging into the food in front of him. 

By the time Bruce declared Billy clear to leave the med bay, the team was starting to settle into the idea of Marvel being a kid, grilling him on things like his favorite superhero (outside of the League, of course; if Billy picked one of them as a favorite it would start a civil war), his favorite foods, and what he liked to do. He had depressingly little information for them, having spent most of his life without the time or safety to try most things, but both Bruce and Arthur insisted on supplying him with anything he could want. Billy, in return, swore never to express an opinion ever again, before immediately gasping in delight when Wally emerged triumphantly from the kitchen holding the last bag of Nerds Clusters. 

Bruce whipped out a notepad to write down the name of the candy; Arthur pulled out his phone. 

Nobody outright objected to Bruce offering to take care of Billy, knowing the man would offer no satisfying explanations as to how exactly he would manage taking care of a kid with all of his League duties and managing Gotham, but with what they knew about the many other Gotham vigilantes, he wasn’t exactly unpracticed in child-rearing. 

Billy was released into Bruce’s custody after each member of the League extracted a promise that Billy would still be attending meetings, and would still be at the Watchtower at least sometimes so they could all see him and make sure he was alright. Vows made, Bruce finally led the boy to the Zeta tubes, and Billy looked forlornly over his shoulder to Clark. He looked up at Bruce and said in a low voice, “Do I have to wear a black costume now?” 

Bruce laughed, really laughed, and Wally crossed himself as the pair disappeared toward Gotham.