don't wanna fly, if you're still on the ground

Untitled Story Part

Billy can freely admit that he is an asshole most days, and for most of his life, he was: okay with it. It made it easier for others to not get attached, and it was easier than being vulnerable and honest. But now that he is beginning to care about people, gross, he tries to be a better brother, a better kid, and a better person. And one part that comes with it is making up for his mistakes and when he hurt others. He doesn't have much to give except for weird divine powers. Some people have words of affirmation as a love language; he has crazy magic lightning.

Something about turning into a divine being gives you a hell of a confidence boost. Billy feels safe enough to be the kid he was denied after living on the streets. And he knows his siblings feel the same way. He sees it in the way; their shoulders stop slumping as kids after spending time Shazaming. That their smiles are bigger and more frequent, and their voices louder. While life with the Vasquez is good, there is no way to beat feeling magic in their blood. After years of being looked down upon, it's nice to become a better version of themselves, the version they dream of being. And little by little, the version they are becoming without the magic.

Darla is just as sweet and playful, but now her creativity shines, and her energy level matches who she is. Mary is less unsure of herself, and her competency is backed up by lightning. Eugene's deviousness shines, but that's fine. What 12-year-old has good morals? Billy certainly didn't. And besides, it never enters a no-no zone. So, it's probably fine.

But out of all of them, Pedro and Freddie seem to need it more. And in a twist of irony, they're the ones he knows most (Freddie) and least (Pedro).

Pedro becomes more confident. He stands taller, not because of the enhanced height, with his head held high to the sky. Pedro takes charge even with a silent demeanour. If Billy didn't see his transformation before his eye: he wouldn't recognize Pedro.

Freddie just belonged in the sky. He belonged there more than he ever did on earth. Freddie had wanted a superhero life for a long time, so it was no surprise he was a frequent flier. His joy was infectious, and his discipline was irritating.

Even though Billy was trying to do better, he still didn't know how to bring up his concerns that they were escaping life without looking like a hypocrite. So he doesn't and tries to be more casual about inviting them more frequently to superheroing.

But Freddie sees right through his bullshit.

"You know you don't have to do all of this?" Billy heard Freddie's voice from the bottom bunk carried in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" Billy groggily asked back, woken from a half-sleep. Pretty confused and startled.

"Billy cut the crap. Is this like a pity thing or a remorse thing?" Freddie's voice cut him to full awakeness.

"Doing what?" Billy was exasperated; he had no idea what Freddie was referring to, and the nighttime wasn't helping with clarifying shit.

Billy heard Freddie give an exasperated groan. 'Like me too,' thought Billy.

"Just jumping at the chance to make us happy, you know, do our chores, or say yes to powering up whenever we ask."

"I don't do that," Billy said in a lying voice.

"Sure. Just know you don't have to do that if you don't want to. You don't have to worry about driving us away if you don't." And with that, Billy heard the snores of a sleeping Freddie.

It seemed that Freddie caught on to one reason, but not the one he was worried about. He didn't suspect Billy was concerned about their escapism, which was good since he still didn't know how to bring it up.