Chapter Text
“I need more time.”
Billy Batson nervously nibbled on his thumbnail as he grumbled into his smartphone – one of the few luxuries he owned. On the other end of the line, he heard his best friend, Danny Fenton, sigh deeply.
“Why? Don’t think you can win?” Danny’s voice came through with a crackle of static.
“Of course not!” Billy forced a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though no one was around to see. “I’ve practically got this in the bag,” he declared, the lie sounding even more hollow than he expected. His voice wavered slightly, but he pushed on. “This is just about... fairness!”
“Fairness?” Danny’s voice was laced with disbelief. “How so?”
Billy huffed, pacing in small circles as he tried to muster a convincing argument. “You had months to convince the Justice League you were pregnant, remember? You had practically all summer!” His frustration bubbled over. “And what about me? I have until New Year's Eve! That’s two weeks away. You expect me to pull off something this impossible in just six weeks? I mean, come on!” He stopped pacing, and repeated, “I need more time.”
A long hum came from Danny’s end of the line, a momentary burst of static accompanying it. Billy held his breath, hoping that his friend would see reason.
“You do make a point–” Danny’s voice broke the silence.
“Thank you!” Billy jumped on the words, relief washing over him.
“–but," Danny cut in with an unmistakable note of amusement, "I seem to recall you were the one who thought you didn’t need the extra time. You were so sure you’d get it done before the deadline.”
Billy groaned, slumping against the his kitchen table. “Okay, yeah, maybe I underestimated how hard it would be to trick the Justice League into thinking I’m... you know. My own son.”
Danny chuckled softly. “There it is. I was wondering when you’d admit it.”
“I’m serious, Danny,” Billy muttered, his hand moving to fidget with the hem of his red hoodie. “You had mysterious abilities, ghost taboos, and an actual daughter on your side. I’ve got... well, a half-baked plan that will probably get me in a lot of trouble if it fails.”
There was another pause, and Billy could almost hear the smirk in Danny’s voice when he replied. “Well, I guess you should’ve thought of that before betting against me.”
Billy didn’t bother to reply; he simply waited patiently for Danny to concede.
Eventually, the teen’s exasperated sigh echoed through the crackling speakers of the younger boy’s phone. “Alright, Billy, I’ll bite. What’s your brilliant suggestion, then? How much more time do you need to pull off the impossible?”
Billy’s mind raced. He hadn’t expected to get this far, but he couldn’t back down now. “The... the Spring Equinox,” he blurted out, half-surprised by his own words.
“The Spring Equinox?” Danny repeated, clearly taken aback.
Billy nodded to himself. “Yeah, it’s perfect! It’s all mystical and stuff – like, it’s a balance between light and dark, life and death, right? And that gives me more time. Three whole months.” When Danny didn’t immediately reply, he went on, “Your deadline was Halloween. You called it ‘spooky.’ Why can’t I have the Spring Equinox? It’s poetic or whatever.”
On the other end of the line, Danny was silent for a beat. Billy bit down on his thumbnail again, the tension building in his shoulders.
“You’ve been hanging around the Wizard too much,” Danny finally muttered, the amusement creeping back into his voice. “But... alright. Fine. Spring Equinox it is. You get until March 20th. But after that, no more extensions. If you haven’t won by then, I win the bet. Deal?”
Billy’s face lit up, relief washing over him like a cool breeze. “Deal! You won’t regret this!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Danny muttered, though his tone had a playful lilt. “I expect to see something impressive. Don't think you can slack off just because you bought yourself some extra time.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Billy immediately replied.
“Alright, good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
With that, Danny hung up, leaving the faint sound of static in Billy’s ear for a few seconds before the line went dead. Billy stared down at his smartphone’s dark screen as the reality of his tiny triumph settled in.
A wide grin spread across Billy’s face, and he couldn’t help himself – he broke into a little victory dance right there in the middle of his cramped studio apartment. His arms flailed in awkward circles as he spun around, whispering a triumphant “Yes!” to himself. The relief and excitement coursing through him made him feel lighter than he had in days.
But as his celebration faded, Billy glanced at the clock. His smile dropped into a grimace. “Shoot, I’m gonna be late!” He grabbed his worn-out backpack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder, and dashed toward the front door, nearly tripping over the corner of his mattress. He paused just long enough to grab his keys and check his reflection in the cracked mirror by the door.
His hair, a shaggy mess, stuck out in every direction. “Good enough,” he muttered, running a hand through it to flatten it down, though it did little to help. His red hoodie was a little wrinkled, but it would do.
With that, Billy hurried out the door and down the narrow hallway of his apartment building, taking the stairs two at a time. His worn sneakers squeaked on the steps as he rushed outside, where the cold winter air slapped him in the face. He tightened the draw-strings on his hoodie, shivering against the chill, and started the walk to Jack Weston’s restaurant.
He had worked at the restaurant over the summer, and with winter break now in full swing, Jack had asked him to fill in for their busboy over the next few weeks during the busy holiday season.
Billy lived in a fairly run-down neighborhood, the kind where you kept your head down and your belongings close. The sidewalks were cracked and uneven, with piles of trash slowly transforming into small white mountains beneath the accumulating snow. Weeds – now long dead in the winter weather – grew in patches along the edges, poking through the gaps in the concrete. The buildings, once proud and full of life, now sagged with age and neglect. Graffiti decorated every other wall, a mix of faded murals and crude tags, telling the story of a place forgotten by the city’s better-off residents.
As Billy walked to work, the faint smell of burnt wood and something foul reached his nose. He passed by the remains of a makeshift camp – a few crumpled tarps and some worn-out blankets stuffed under a stoop. His chest tightened as his eyes flickered toward the small pile. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Usually, a young woman and her dog were huddled there, seeking shelter from the cold. Today, though, there was no sign of them – only her grocery cart, filled with random odds and ends, its wheels broken and rusted, standing nearby like a forgotten relic.
His own situation wasn’t much better, though at least he had a roof over his head. The studio apartment he’d found was tiny, barely large enough to fit a mattress, a small table with two mismatched chairs, and a fridge that groaned every few hours. The landlord didn’t ask too many questions – not about his age or why there was never a parent or guardian around. Not many people questioned things in a neighborhood like this. If you had the cash, they let you be.
Billy was lucky he could afford it, even with his meager busboy salary. But really, it was Danny who’d helped him. After they became friends over a year or so ago, Danny let him in on a secret: Captain Marvel was earning a stipend for every shift he pulled on monitor duty at the Watchtower. The Justice League paid heroes a small sum whenever they provided national or global support, taking time away from protecting their own cities. That extra income – which he accessed discreetly as Captain Marvel – was what kept Billy from having to return to life on the streets.
Still, the weight of it all pressed on his shoulders as he navigated the grimy alleyways. A flickering neon sign overhead struggled to illuminate its half-lit letters, advertising a dive bar, while a stray cat darted across the street, vanishing into the shadows between two crumbling buildings. This part of town felt a world apart from the holiday cheer.
But the closer Billy got to the heart of the city, Fawcett City began to pulse with life. Christmas was just a week away, and the faint sounds of carols and cheerful chatter began to replace the quiet desolation of his neighborhood. The streets gradually brightened with the warm glow of twinkling holiday lights strung between storefronts, casting a golden sheen on the wet pavement. Wreaths hung on every door, and garlands wrapped around lamp posts like ribbons.
Billy pulled his hoodie tighter around himself, feeling the strange dissonance between the two worlds. It was hard to shake the tension in his gut as he left behind the rougher part of town, stepping into the holiday spirit of the city’s center, where everyone seemed to be going about their day without a care in the world.
Billy tucked his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to warm his frozen fingers as he walked. The scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through the air from a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, blending with the distant sound of carolers singing somewhere up the block.
He glanced up at the festive lights as he passed a brightly decorated store window, the cheerful atmosphere doing little to ease the tension simmering under his skin. His mind was still buzzing from his little victory with Danny, but the looming shift at the restaurant dampened his mood.
“Just get through tonight,” he muttered, repeating the familiar mantra under his breath as he pulled his hood tighter against the biting wind. “Then figure out the rest.”
-o-o-o-
Here’s the thing: Billy had been on track to lose his second bet with Danny. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.
It started roughly three and a half weeks ago. Captain Marvel had been casually showing Danny a selfie of himself (as Billy) and Danielle – better known to the Justice League as Wraith, Phantom’s daughter. Just a fun picture between two teens with far too much responsibility. But then the Flash – because of course it had to be the Flash – zoomed in out of nowhere and started bombarding Marvel with rapid-fire questions, his curiosity getting the best of him, as usual.
In a moment of blind panic, Marvel claimed the boy pictured was his son. He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, okay?
Which, in all honesty, was a very believable lie, no matter what Danny said.
But that didn’t stop it from spiraling into a full-blown bet between the two so-called “immortal allies.” The challenge: Billy had to convince the Justice League he was genuinely Marvel’s son before the year’s end.
At first, he had figured it wouldn’t be that hard. After all, who knew Billy better than Billy himself? All he had to do was spin the narrative – drop some hints, show a few pictures, and let the Justice League’s rumor mill handle the rest. Simple enough.
Since then, Billy (as Captain Marvel) had been weaving the story into conversations – sometimes subtly, other times not so much. It turned out that speaking in the third person about himself was oddly effortless. Marvel painted the picture of a doting father who knew his son inside and out. From school grades to favorite foods, he had an answer for every question, creating the image of a superhero who, despite his world-saving responsibilities, was deeply invested in his child’s life.
But, he had severely underestimated the sheer magnitude of the task.
Though Marvel had strategically shown off pictures and slipped in anecdotes about his so-called “son,” the questions about Billy and his family were piling up. And it was all thanks to Flash, who spread the rumor faster than light itself.
Whenever he visited the Watchtower, heroes would flock to him, peppering him with questions. Some were more skeptical than others. “Why now? Why start talking about your son after keeping him a secret for so long?” they’d ask, eyebrows raised in suspicion.
He always had his answer ready: “Well, if Phantom can reveal he has a daughter, why can’t I reveal I have a son?” It seemed logical enough. Ellie had only recently been introduced to the hero community. So why couldn’t Captain Marvel have kept his own child a secret for similar reasons?
The follow-up questions were trickier. “What about Batman and Robin, or Superman and the second Superboy? They revealed their father-son duo ages ago. Why didn’t you?”
His response was simple, but carefully thought out: “Billy isn’t a hero or even a hero-in-training. Revealing his existence earlier would have jeopardized his safety.” It was a perfect deflection.
But then they’d ask, again, “So why now?” And that’s where he had to get creative, always circling back to Phantom’s reveal, framing it as a moment of solidarity between immortal, cosmic beings.
But despite all his smooth talking and mastery in third-person storytelling, Billy knew words alone wouldn’t win this bet. He needed more than convincing conversations and carefully curated family photos. He needed proof.
Which led to the infamous “playdate” – Danny’s annoying name for it, not his. With his friend’s help, Billy joined the two ghosts as they traveled to Gotham under the guise of a friendly meet-up with Nightwing and Robin. Of course, things had quickly gone sideways when Solomon Grundy crawled out of a grave, resulting in a minor (read: major) altercation.
Billy had limped away injured, but in his mind, it was still a win. The Bat-Family seemed to like him, he’d dodged most of their awkward questions, and, best of all, he’d secured an invitation to the Batcave – though, to be fair, he had been unconscious at the time, which kind of lessened the impact.
Still, progress was progress.
So if things were going well, why was Billy on the verge of losing the bet? The answer was simple: time.
Danny had spent several months pulling off his elaborate fake pregnancy. By the time Ellie was officially “born,” most of the Justice League had already bought into the ruse. He had the luxury of time – gradually laying the groundwork, building trust, and letting the story unfold naturally.
Billy? He had a measly six weeks to convince the entire Justice League of an even wilder tale: that he was Captain Marvel’s secret son. It was an impossible task, really, and as he felt the deadline looming ever closer, he felt the pressure mounting.
That’s why he needed more time. Hence, the phone call with Danny.
The Spring Equinox was his last-ditch attempt at salvation, a shot at extending the bet long enough to pull off the impossible. Because if he didn’t... well, he didn’t even want to think about what losing to Danny a second time would mean.
As Billy finished wiping down the last set of tables at Jack Weston’s restaurant that night, he took a moment to glance around at the bustling diners. Their laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a cozy atmosphere that felt worlds away from his chaotic thoughts about the bet.
In a far booth, he spotted a father and son sharing a moment of joy over mugs of steaming hot chocolate. The father had a whipped cream mustache, eliciting uncontrollable giggles from the young boy.
It was then that a simple yet outlandish thought popped into his head. The idea was crazy, but if he could pull it off, the bet would be in the bag.
What if he used magic to split himself and Captain Marvel into two separate beings?
Billy’s heart raced at the thought. He pictured himself making an in-person appearance alongside Marvel. As two different people, they could directly interact with the Justice League, reinforcing the narrative he desperately needed to win. Not only would this approach lend credibility to his story, but he could have fun with it, showcasing the father-son dynamic he’d always envisioned having with his dad.
As he finished clearing the tables, each dish and glass setting him one step closer to this bold plan, he felt a surge of excitement. If he could pull this off, it wouldn’t be just a shot in the dark; it would be his golden ticket to convincing everyone that he was, without a doubt, Captain Marvel’s son.
With renewed determination, he began to formulate a plan, realizing that magic might just hold the key to turning the tide in his favor.