Son of a Gun (Uh- God*)

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Billy's trying to deal with the aftermath of revealing his identity to the Justice League-- when his dad decides to pay everyone a visit.

- - -

Billy Batson, a skinny 12-year-old with what felt like a magnet strapped to his back that attracted trouble, sat alone in the hallway of the Watchtower, staring down at his feet as they dangled off the edge of the bench he sat on. Dread was like a pit in the core of his stomach, making him queasy and wish he could just vanish. He hated this waiting, hating being uncertain of his future.

Though, he supposed it was his own fault he was in this mess in the first place.

He'd kept his identity from the League since he'd joined- nearly 2 years at this point, he'd been at this, and now it was all coming crashing down. The raven sighed, shoulders slumping. He guessed it wouldn't be so bad to be kicked out- he'd managed for the first couple of months he was a hero by himself, he could do it again- though it would be lonely.

Billy let out a breath, chewing on his bottom lip in thought as he glanced at the meeting room. The League had been in there for a long time already- he wished they would just come to a decision already.

The 12-year-old felt a sudden chill run up his spine, making him roll his shoulders and furrow his brow. It was oddly familiar, that feeling. He thought about it for moment, looking around in confusion- there couldn't be a draft, the Watchtower was a multi-million dollar satellite.

There was a sudden crash from the meeting room, making the boy flinch and jump to his feet. That couldn't be good- they weren't fighting, were they?! He had to do something- the League couldn't become divided because of him!

Billy narrowed his eyes at the door and spread his feet, calling out the Wiard's name and summoning the magical lightning he'd come to know so well.

With a muscular form and billowing white cape, Captin Marvel opened the meeting room door, ready to put an end to whatever fight could have possibly broken out-

...only to find a dark, shadowy figure with glowing blue eyes standing in the middle of the table. Wisps of dark smoke trailed off the figure, the lights above flickering. The heroes surrounding the figure had their weapons drawn, chairs shoved back and knocked over.

Captain Marvel stared with wide eyes t the figured as it looked around at the heroes before finally landing its gaze on Cap. He swallowed thickly, not missing the way the others tensed up. Marvel sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"You could- you could at least try and pass for human..." he muttered, dragging his hand down his face and looking at the shadowy figure with a mixture of exhaustion and pleading. "Please...?"

The figure stared at him before seemingly sighing, the smoke draining downward to reveal a man with faded blue hair, arms corded in lean muscle and leather, studs and chains wrapping around the man's legs and shoulders. He wore silver and leather bracers and studded platform boots, his dark shirt was in tatters, and he had multiple piercings in his ears. The man looked like he'd just walked out of a punk rock concert, and kinda owned the look.

The man hopped off the table and glanced around at the heroes with a raised eyebrow before looking back towards Captain Marvel. "You reek of my little brother," he commented, causing Cap to roll his eyes with a smile.

"Yeah, well that's not really my fault."

The man gave him a look before smirking and wrapping an arm around the demigod's shoulder. "So this is the. League that Ares keeps complaining about?"

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