Billy Batson Angst One Shots

Mama's Boy

The bland white walls that surround him are a stark contrast to his rose-tinged cheeks and nose that'd been chilled from the harsh winter. Billy is well aware of the windburn prodding at his cheeks. It doesn't surprise him not when the cold he feels Is to be expected, he reminds himself he's had worse.

He knows he can handle being cold. The anxiety, as well as the clamminess he feels at his palms though is something entirely different. It's not something he's used to.

It's only natural that he's feeling nervous over something as detrimental as seeing his mother. Billy already knows it's too late to put too much thought into this now, too late to back out now. After all, he'd rabbited off, ran straight to the address Eugene had given him, the address that was believed to be his mother's, elevated off of nothing but pure adrenaline, emotion, and his own impulsiveness.

Admittedly he'd about busted his ass on a few icy patches of the sidewalk getting here as well but that's aside the point. It's not like he let it stop him, Rose and Victor hadn't been enough to deter him from running off and finding his mother frankly he wasn't sure anyone would've.

Shaking himself away from his thoughts Billy walked down the hallway taking in his bearings. Quickly checking the numbers as he proceeded and before long he had the right door, stopping Billy let out a breath as he did so. So, this was it, his opportunity to hopefully reconnect with his mother. Less that meant that this would also be his last chance to back out.

Yeah right, fat chance of him doing that.

Ever so lightly Billy rapped his knuckles against the door of apartment 707. The bold fonted numbers gleam back at him.

The numbers made everything seem more concrete. There was an inability to wrap his head around this. If this was true — if what Eugene had told him had been right then that meant that all of this time his mother had been two bus stops away, only two. He couldn't believe it.

Nobody had answered yet, he wonders if anyone will or if this is another goose chase. The thought nearly has him losing his nerve the second his hand meets the door. With his heart practically leaping in his throat, he tries again.

Knock, knock,

Precipitously Billy waits, shifting his weight between foot to foot nervously. The seconds feel like minutes as he stays put there. It always does. And he finds that he hates this, and detests playing the waiting game as he had done all those times before. Only for none of the people prior to be his mother. He doesn't want to experience that again, doesn't want to feel like a fool.

Acknowledging he'd been met with nothing in return of his presence other than complete silence. A fleeting moment passes by before Billy considers turning on his heel. He isn't able to get to that point because just as the idea crosses his mind, it's crushed —

''Hold on, I'll be there in just a second,''

Startled at the voice Billy doesn't move and true to her word the woman opens the door a beat later. His eyes filter to the side of the woman he's almost frightened to look up in fear of being disappointed, in finding someone that's presumably not Marilyn Batson, again. Regardless he wills himself to look up anyway hesitantly peeking through a thick shield of lashes. He finds that isn't the case.

Effectively his breath is taken away at the sight of the woman, because it's her. It has to be, the blonde looks nearly identical to what he remembers. And sure maybe she looks a little worse for wear than what Billy recalls, no longer as joyful as he'd hoped she'd be. Her hairs coming loose from its pins, her skin a chalky-looking color, and the makeup she wore didn't quite cover up the tired rings lining her eyes. But he's mindful of the concept that it's been years, ten, and he knows age'll do that to a person.