The Marvelous Adventures of the Superbat Family

The Truth Revealed

The boy in front of them was small and didn’t look to be any older than eight.  He had shaggy black hair and wore a too big red sweater and faded jeans with holes in the knees and white sneakers.  He was dirty and had a myriad of bruises on his face and his blue eyes regarded them warily.

“Hello,” Batman knelt so that he was at eye level with the kid.  “I’m Bruce and this is my friend Clark.  What’s your name?”

“Billy,” he said at last.  “Billy Batson.”

Clark snorted and grinned at Billy who kept eyeing the door as if he wanted to run away.  Which, when Clark thought about it, was probably what he wanted to do.  Facing Batman and Superman with magic powers was one thing but without?  That was a whole different story.  With that thought he sat on the floor next to Bruce so he had to look up to see Billy’s face.  “It’s nice to meet the real you.”

Billy eyed him skeptically and Clark wanted to find whoever had damaged his self-esteem and give them a bloody nose but more than that he wanted to beat up everyone responsible for Billy’s current situation.

“So how old are you?” Bruce asked.  Billy’s age was a little difficult to pin down due to his small size and baggy clothes.  He had a sneaking suspicion that all of Billy’s ribs were visible and had to force himself not to grab the boy and take him straight to Alfred so the butler could feed him.  Clark was obviously fighting the same impulse and they were both putting a lot of effort to not let Billy see how upset they were by this turn of events.  While he wasn’t surprised that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.”

Billy bit his lip then quietly said, “Ten.”

“Well at least you’re more mature than Flash and Green Lantern,” Clark was only half-joking.

Bruce smirked.  “It’s sad but true.  I don’t suppose you would mind telling us how things got to this point?”

“Do I even have a choice?” Billy muttered.  “Fine, I’ll tell you everything.  I was four when my parents died; at least that’s what my social worker told me.  Uncle Ebenezer said they abandoned me but I didn’t pay him any mind.  After I lost my memory when I was five I was put in foster care.  Not all of them were bad but none of them wanted me so I kept moving.  My last home was actually pretty bad so I ran away.  I didn’t want to go back into the foster system so I just…stayed away.”

“How old were you?” Clark asked gently.  He wished, more than anything, that he could go back in time and take in Billy before his uncle got hold of him and turned him into the wary, untrusting child in front of them.  Clark imagined he had been a happy child with bright eyes and a sunny smile, not sunken cheeks and a hoarse cough.

Billy frowned, his brow wrinkled in thought.  “Seven?” he said hesitantly.  “Maybe eight.  Anyways it wasn’t long after that that I met the Wizard and he gave me magic powers.  You guys know everything else.”

Clark had to bite his tongue to keep from cussing out the Wizard.  What kind of person handed magic powers to a homeless child then left said child to fend for himself?  It couldn’t have been that difficult for the Wizard to find a decent magic user to take care of Billy.  Then there was the matter of Billy being in the Justice League.  While it was true they didn’t have an age limit he didn’t approve of children fighting crime (Robin was a reluctant concession but only because Batman was almost always with him) so he definitely wasn’t very happy about this development.  Robin patrolling Gotham was one thing but was quite another.  Billy had battled Darkseid and spent weeks in space.  He had fought countless monsters and seen things that would have petrified Robin.

Batman's scowl was unusually grim and he looked as pained as Superman felt.  He needed to find someone to yell at (and maybe hit) and fast, preferably before Billy realized how upset the two were and thought it was aimed at him.  The boy was skittish enough; they didn’t need to add to it.  “Robin’s about twelve,” he managed to smile.  “I’m sure he’d love to meet you and so would my butler Alfred.”

“Yeah my folks would be thrilled to meet you too,” Clark added.

“I-I,” Billy was starting to look panicked, his breathing getting heavy.  “I gotta go.”  Before anyone could react he had turned and ran out of the room, the sound of lightning following.

“No,” Bruce grabbed Clark’s arm.  “Let him go.  We obviously overwhelmed him and if you go after him now it could just make things worse.  He has monitor duty tomorrow – we can just talk to him then.  Until then I have something else we can do that should still prove to be quite satisfying.”

Clark looked at him skeptically.  “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could pay a little visit to his uncle and see about getting his stuff back,” Batman's grin was feral.

“That does sound like fun,” Clark agreed.  “I want to yell at someone right now and he seems like a good target.”

Ebenezer Batson’s day had been uneventful so far so he was expecting the rest of his day to be the same.  He was sadly disappointed, however, when Batman appeared in his living room, Superman right beside him.

Ebenezer gasped and tried to stand but his legs gave out and he fell back into his chair, one hand clutching at his chest.  “What – what do you want from me?  I don’t have any money if that’s what you’re after.”

“Really,” Batman's voice dripped with disbelief.  “Already spent all of Billy’s inheritance?”

Ebenezer froze, a feeling of dread trickling up his spine.  He hadn’t thought about his ungrateful nephew in years.  “What sort of lies has that brat been spreading about me?” his voice was shaky and shrill, nowhere near as strong as he would have liked it to be.

Batman growled and Superman took a step forward.  “Your heartbeat tells me that Billy was telling us the truth.  Now either you return everything you stole or I let Batman have his way with you.”  Superman very deliberately moved so that he was no longer standing between the two and Ebenezer gulped.