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Billy knew he was being an idiot before he even did anything.Fawcett’s hallways were as crowded as they ever got, now at midday when sophomores were finishing lunch and freshmen were getting ready for theirs. Everybody dawdled at their lockers, chatting and stretching the moment of unstructured time as long as they could.It was a stupid time to pick fights.Billy and Freddy were walking together, like always, threading their way through the crowded hall. Pedro’s locker stood between their bio room and the lunchroom, so they usually stopped to talk to him around now.(Freddy talked, anyway- most days Billy just asked if lunch was any good, and Pedro would either nod or shake his head sagely. Billy kind of liked the routine of the interaction. He hadn’t had many routines in his life to date.)This time, as he and Freddy rounded the corner into the sophomore hallway, Billy saw that the routine was going to be disrupted. Today, somebody else was already talking to Pedro. Pedro didn’t seem to like it.A tall white guy, a couple of years older than Billy, was leaning with one hand pressed up against Pedro’s locker, holding it shut. Pedro was facing the other guy with his back to Billy and Freddy. He had his hands open at his sides, in a stance that looked deliberately nonconfrontational to Billy’s eye. His backpack hung loosely over one shoulder. The other guy poked him in the chest.Billy glanced to the side to see Freddy scowling. He seemed to know who this other student was, or at least knew enough not to like him. Billy quickened his pace to a trot, leaving Freddy a few paces behind and making his way to Pedro.He wasn’t planning on doing anything. He just wanted Pedro to know he had backup if he needed it. They were a team, after all, however new that whole situation may be. Having a team member’s back really was the least he could do.Then the other guy reached out, grabbed the strap of Pedro’s backpack, and yanked it down off his shoulder. Suddenly the hallway was gone. Billy was eleven years old, trying to sleep in an alley, waking up to a grown man tearing his backpack out of his arms.Fighting was stupid then, too, and he’d ended up with cracked ribs for his trouble. That didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared to do it again.Billy broke into a run. He passed an older girl holding a big, sturdy-looking science textbook, and snatched the book out of her hands as he passed. She let out a startled yell, but Billy didn’t really notice. He was just a few paces from Pedro and the other guy.He was close enough that he heard the asshole trying to steal his foster brother’s stuff say, “What kinds of snacks you got in here, lard ass?”Billy swung the textbook up and smashed it into the guy’s face. Really, really hard.A girl screamed somewhere behind him. Pedro, out of the corner of Billy’s eye, adopted a downright comical expression of surprise, eyes wide and mouth ajar.The other guy staggered back a few steps and doubled over, howling. Both of his hands flew up to his face in a futile attempt to stop the blood pouring out of his nose. Billy raised the book again, vaguely aware of the blood on its cover.“Get the fuck out of here,” Billy snarled, brandishing his blunt weapon.Another body crashed into him from the side, slamming Billy into the cold metal of the sophomore lockers. The body pulled back- or maybe ricocheted off, actually, it wasn’t a very controlled impact- and Billy got an eyeful of some other jerk he had seen once or twice in the halls before.Why did assholes always have friends? Who wanted to be friends with these people?“You little shit!” the second guy shouted in Billy’s face. His fist came in fast, connecting with Billy’s jaw hard enough to make his head snap back, but not hard enough to make him see stars.These guys, Billy concluded, kind of sucked at fighting. Neither of them had even tried to get the book out of Billy’s hands.Billy kicked at the second guy’s knee. It wasn’t a very solid hit, but it did make his attacker duck down a little bit, which meant that Billy had a clear shot at his head. He swung the textbook again, like a wide, unwieldy baseball bat, and slammed the guy in the side of the head hard enough to send him to the ground in an undignified heap. No longer crowded up against the lockers, Billy took a step out towards the center of the hall, and-An arm shot out from behind him. The forearm closed in over Billy’s throat, and the rest of the body’s weight bore down on the back of his neck, forcing him to bend forward. The first guy had recovered enough to try and get Billy in a headlock, apparently, but he wasn’t doing it right. Billy still had plenty of room to move his head. So, he did the first thing that came naturally.Billy ducked his chin towards his chest, opened his mouth, and bit down as hard as he could on the arm around his neck. Somewhere over his head, the arm’s owner shrieked.The arm released and Billy righted himself, standing up hard and fast, angling his head back just a little and he went. The back of his skull smacked against something warm and wet. Bingo. Another wounded howl from the guy trying to hold onto him. Billy whipped around see dick number one’s bloody face- now even gorier than it had been, what with the second impact to his probably broken nose- crumpled up in pain. Tears ran down his cheeks.This was the part where Billy was supposed to grab his stuff and run for it. He glanced down at the ground for his backpack, and his hand flew to his front right pocket, where he kept his compass.Wait. Shit. That wasn’t right. His backpack was on his back, and the compass was with his- it was gone now, had been for two months.Reality rushed back in when two large, gentle hands settled on either side of him, lightly gripping his arms.“Billy,” Pedro said quietly, at his back. “Billy, it’s okay. Calm down, man.”They were in the hallway. In the very crowded hallway, at school, where Billy had just bitten someone like a rabid dog.“Oh, shit,” Billy breathed. Heat rushed up to his face.People were staring at him. He looked over his shoulder. Pedro still had his hands on Billy’s arms, not holding him so much as steadying him from behind. He wasn’t staring at Billy, at least. He was looking down, at the guy Billy had clobbered over the head, with a stunned look on his face. The jerk in question was still on the ground, holding his head and groaning. A ring of other students surrounded them, whispering to each other.Right then, Freddy successfully muscled his way past the younger boys blocking him from view. His jaw dropped.“Holy shit,” he gaped, taking in the bloody mess of asshole number one’s nose. He looked up to meet Billy’s eyes with a look of awe. “Dude, you never told me you knew mortal fucking combat.”And of course that was when the vice principal appeared.“What on earth is going on here?” Mrs. Monaghan yelled, shrill and horrified. The ring of students surrounding them parted at the sound of her voice and dispersed, leaving Billy, Pedro, and Freddy suddenly very visible. Mrs. Monaghan, a tall and severe woman of around fifty, locked bespectacled eyes on Billy and pointed a bony finger at him. “Mr. Batson! My office! Now!”Pedro and Freddy both started talking at once.“Those assholes started it-” “It wasn’t his fault-”“How come you never see it when they Byers beat the shit out of me, but once a foster kid throws a hit at a bully you’ve got super speed, huh?”“Not helping, man-”“This is profiling!”“Quiet!” Monaghan snapped. “Mr. Freeman, go on to lunch. Mr. Peña, escort these two to the nurse’s office. Mr. Batson, with me. Now.”Billy nodded mutely. He made to follow Mrs. Monaghan, mind blank.He had only gotten a few steps, though, when Freddy’s unmistakable gait caught up to him and his best friend snagged him by the elbow.“Hey,” Said Freddy, quiet and urgent under Mrs. Monaghan’s disapproving glare. “Don’t freak out, okay? Victor and Rosa aren’t bad about this stuff, I promise.”Billy felt the floor drop out from under him.
Victor and Rosa.
Of course, they had to call his guardians. Billy had just beaten the living hell out of two students in the middle of a busy hallway. He was definitely suspended, maybe expelled.Whatever Freddy saw on his face, it must have looked bad, because he started babbling even faster. “Okay, it looks like you’re freaking out now, and I just told you not to do that, and I know you haven’t known them that long but trust me, they’re just gonna like, talk about being disappointed, you know? You’ll be fine, I promise, they won’t-”“You will be in the lunchroom in the next ten seconds or you will spend the evening in detention, Mr. Freeman,” Mrs. Monaghan interrupted.“That’s an ableist and unrealistic standard,” Freddy called back, seemingly out of habit. He gave Billy another meaningful look, teeth worrying his lower lip. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated, and then let go of Billy to head for the cafeteria.Without Freddy’s hand on his arm, Billy felt unanchored, overwhelmed by vertigo. He walked close behind Mrs. Monaghan anyway, and sat numbly in the chair in front of her desk when she directed him to do so. His hands felt cold as he watched her pick up the office phone and dial Victor’s number. The reality of the situation had fully reasserted itself through the adrenaline haze that had overtaken him several minutes ago.He couldn’t stay with the Vasquezes anymore.
“Hey Billy,” Victor called. “Will you come to the grocery store with me, bud? I could use an extra set of hands.”
Billy looked up from his phone where he was sprawled out on the couch, startled. Was that a thing people did in this house? Help Victor and Rosa with errands? Now that he thought about it, he had definitely seen Mary helping Rosa unload bags of stuff from the store. Weird. Most check-collectors didn’t like to bring him anywhere other than school, not with his history of bolting.
“Sure,” he said, trying to sound casual. Like he went grocery shopping all the time, and could definitely be trusted not to steal shit or vanish without a trace once they got there.
Then he reminded himself that he absolutely was not going to steal shit or vanish without a trace, because he wanted to stay here. That part still felt strange.
It took him a minute or two to find his boots and jacket, but Victor didn’t seem to mind waiting for him. He just sort of stood by the door, relaxed, not even impatiently checking his phone. When Billy approached the door, buttoning up his jacket as he went, Victor smiled easily.
“Thanks, pal,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “You want shotgun?”
When they got to the store and Victor pulled out the list, which covered four sticky notes, it made sense to Billy all of a sudden why kids in this house helped out with errands. It turned out a house with eight people in it needed a fuckton of food. Victor steered the cart and asked Billy to go grab things from different parts of the store while he made his way up and down the aisles. Easy stuff- a box of Cheerios, some soy milk for Darla, the biggest pack of toilet paper they sold, that kind of thing.
Billy found it very odd to be sent out of sight in a public place, by someone that seemed totally assured that he would come back every time. It was even weirder that he actually did come back every time, and didn’t slip anything into his pockets while he was moving around the store on his own. If his social worker could see him now, she might have fainted from shock.
“What’s your favorite snack for after school?” Victor asked while they were in the chip aisle.
“Uh, flamin’ hot Cheetos,” Billy decided, after a moment of consideration.
“Good choice,” Victor said with a nod. He took the pencil out of his pocket and crossed something out on the third sticky note of the shopping list. “Go grab us a bag.”
Billy blinked a few times, not moving at first. “Is that- on the list?” he asked.
“Yep,” Victor answered. “Right there in black and white.” He held out the sticky note in his hand, and Billy leaned in closer to read it.
The last item to be crossed out, still legible under the strike mark, read, “snacks 4 Billy.”
Billy retrieved the Cheetos and studiously ignored the weird feeling in his chest.
Getting all the groceries into the car took several minutes with both Victor and Billy working at it, and it occurred to Billy that Victor definitely could have asked more than one person in the house to go with him. It was a Sunday, nobody was doing homework except for Mary. He was pretty sure Freddy and Eugene had been playing a video game together upstairs. Why was he the only one that Victor asked?
Victor might have been a mind reader, or maybe it was actually really obvious the whole time and Billy was just slow. Either way, when they climbed back into the car, Victor pointedly didn’t start driving. “Confession time, bud,” he said. “I really did need your help at the store, but I also asked you to come with me so we could talk about something in private. Is it okay if we hang out in here with the heat going for a couple minutes?”
Billy froze. He mentally raced through possible reasons he could be in trouble. Had Victor found out about the superpowers? Was he mad? Did he know about Billy’s mom, how Billy had run away with no plans to come back as soon as he had her address in his hands? Had his social worker called?
“Relax, Billy, you’re not in trouble,” Victor gently interrupted his spiral. “It’s just something I wanted to talk about without Eugene yelling at the laptop in the background, you know?”
Slowly, stiffly, Billy nodded. Maybe this was normal, too. Maybe kids who stayed in the same house for more than a couple weeks had private talks with their guardians all the time. It seemed doubtful, but Billy wasn’t exactly an expert.
“You know we talked to your case worker, Emma, before you came to stay with us, right?” Victor asked. Billy nodded again, just as stiff as before. “She gave us the rundown of where you’ve been for the past couple years.”
Billy wondered if this was the “don’t-you-dare-try-to-run-away” talk he’d been expecting back when he first got here. A month into his stay was pretty late in the game for that talk, though. He watched Victor’s face for any indication of where this was going. He didn’t find any. Victor looked calm, but also kind of- blank? Like he was trying not to give anything away with his expression.
“Twenty-three is a lot of foster homes,” said Victor carefully.
Oh. That. Billy relaxed a little. He had been scolded for wasting opportunities a hundred times. It wasn’t his favorite subject, but it was fine. He could handle that.
“Now, I moved through six foster homes when I was growing up,” Victor went on. “And out of those six, there were a couple of really bad ones. I figure, if you’ve been to four times that many, you must have seen some of the worst ones out there.”
Nope, never mind, Billy still had no fucking clue where this was going, and it was starting to freak him out. He dropped his gaze to his hands. Apparently, he’d been picking at a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve without realizing it. Did Victor want to hear the horror stories? Was he going to tell Billy about his? Out of the corner of his eye, Billy darted a quick glance at the lock tab on the passenger door. It was unlocked. That made it easier to breathe.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Victor went on quickly. “Not now, not unless you want to. My only thought is, since I don’t know how it worked in all the places you’ve been before, I really want to make sure you understand how things work here with our family. Does that make sense?”
“Um.” Billy swallowed. “Like. You mean what happens when I mess up?”
“Yeah, buddy. That’s part of it.”
Billy sucked in a deep breath and released it. “Okay,” he agreed. “What happens when I mess up, then?”
Victor was looking right at him, doing that approaching-a-spooked-horse thing he did with his eyes sometimes. “It’s really, really important for you to know,” he said, slow and clear. “That no matter what you do, nobody in our house will ever hurt you. That means no hitting, no shoving, no throwing things, nothing that would hurt. We won’t ever take away your food or your bed. We won’t ever lock you into or out of any place you don’t want to be. And we won’t ever get rid of any of your stuff without your permission.”
Was Billy shaking? He thought he might be shaking. He nodded anyway. Victor returned the nod and kept talking.
“When you make mistakes, most of the time we’re just gonna wanna talk about it. If it’s something big, like sneaking out and missing school, we’ll probably ground you. That means you come right home after school, and stay home to do chores and homework if it’s a weekend. And that’s it.”
"What would. Uh,” Billy swallowed again. He having such a hard time talking, which was incredibly stupid. Victor was being the exact opposite of scary right now and it still made him want to bolt. “What would make you kick me out?”
“Nothing,” Victor replied, sounding surprised.
“That’s bullshit,” Billy blurted. The he realized what he had just said and cringed. He wasn’t supposed to be an asshole to Victor. He liked Victor. “Sorry.”
“You’re okay, Billy,” said Victor softly. Spooked horse mannerisms still in place, Billy noted. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just- that can’t actually be true?” Billy was trying so hard to say this without cursing he thought he might burst a vein. “What I tried to burn the house down? What if I killed the president and went to jail forever?”
Victor laughed. “Buddy, if you kill the president, I’m gonna have way too many questions to be mad about it for a while.”
"It can’t be nothing,” Billy insisted. “Come on. I’ve been through twenty-three homes. There’s always a limit to what you can put up with.”
Victor gave him a look that seemed to have a dozen different emotions in it. Eventually he nodded. “You’re right that everyone has limits,” he conceded. “How about this- we will never, ever kick you out as a punishment.”
“But?” Billy pressed. He was pretty sure he was being an asshole, and he felt bad about that, but right now it felt extremely important to find out what the limit was. If he was going to stay here, in the long term, he needed to know what would get him bounced back out. If he knew what it was, he could avoid it. If he didn’t know, he was going to be on edge literally all the time.
"The only reasons we would ever talk to one of our kids’ caseworkers about finding a different placement,” Victor said, “would be if there was a better placement available with a relative-”
That one was off the table.
“-if there was an important need we really couldn’t fill, like needing to be outside of a city in order to be safe-”
Also irrelevant to Billy.
“-or if there was some reason that it wouldn’t be safe for one kid to be mixed in with the others.” Victor finished. He eyes Billy again. “Does that make sense to you?”
Yeah, it did. Billy had seen kids like that before, that just couldn’t handle being mixed into a group home without losing their shit. A memorable placement had put him with a nine-year-old that starting kicking and scratching anyone that made any sudden moves near her. It was sad, but there wasn’t much that could be done except move her someplace without other kids to startle her.
Billy breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds okay.” Another thought occurred to him and he abruptly sat up straighter. “It’s the same deal for all the other kids too, right?” He could hardly bring himself to imagine Victor hurting Freddy, but he still wanted to make sure.
“Billy,” Victor said seriously. “If you ever see me do anything to Freddy or Darla or any of the others that you think would hurt them, you have my permission to kick my ass.”
Good. Billy sagged back down. He could handle that, then. All he had to do to be able to keep Freddy and the others was not run away.
That, and not act like a total fucking psycho.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Victor actually got to the school in about thirty minutes, which meant he must have started driving literally three minutes after he got the call. Billy nonetheless felt like he had been sitting in Mrs. Monaghan’s office for an unmeasurable length of time. He bounced his leg and glanced at the clock every fifteen seconds or so, not even sure if he wanted it to go faster and slower. If he wanted to get this over with or drag out whatever time he had left before the inevitable.Either way, Victor arrived thirty minutes after Mrs. Monaghan hung up the phone, and Billy sank down in his chair at the sight of him. He wished he could sink into the floor.Victor stepped into the vice principal’s office, reached across the desk to shake Mrs. Monaghan’s hand, and turned a scrutinizing gaze on Billy. Billy’s face burned.“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Vazquez,” Mrs. Monaghan began.“Where’s his ice pack?” Victor interrupted, his deep voice level as always.“I beg your pardon?” said Mrs. Monaghan, taken aback.“My kid has a bruise the shape of a fist on his face,” said Victor. “I want to know where his ice pack is.”Billy reflexively reached up to touch his jaw. He’d kind of forgotten that he got punched, but now that he remembered, his jaw did feel pretty swollen.Mrs. Monaghan stared at Victor for a moment. “Mr. Vasquez,” she tried again. “Billy started a very rough fight with two other students. The nurse has informed me that one of the students Billy struck was very lucky he didn’t break his nose. He also claims that Billy bit him.”“I see,” Victor said. He had his poker face on, for some reason, and Billy couldn’t pin down a single emotion in his expression. “Is it school policy that injured students don’t receive attention from the nurse, if they’re suspected to have started a fight?”Billy looked back at Mrs. Monaghan. She did not have a poker face on. Her eyes had widened in surprise, and the corners of her mouth curled downwards in a look of distaste.“No,” she said, “that is not the school’s policy, just a temporary delay. We couldn’t send Billy to the nurse while she was already looking after the other two boys.”“So, what you’re saying is that nobody has looked Billy over?” Victor asked. “After, based on what you told me over the phone, was a very rough fight? With two, older students?” When Mrs. Monaghan didn’t respond, Victor pressed further. “No concussion check? Has anyone even asked him if he’s hurt anywhere else?”God damn, Victor was good at this. Billy wondered if he had ever sued anyone. It seemed like he would probably win.Mrs. Monaghan was frozen. Her eyes flicked over to Billy’s face, so he adopted his best tragic orphan look. He knew it was effective, because he’d used the same look to get out of a shoplifting arrest once and it had actually worked.“My shoulder is pretty sore,” he offered. It wasn’t even a lie; he’d been shoved up against the lockers pretty hard when the second guy tackled him. If he happened to tell the truth in an especially pitiful tone of voice, so be it.Mrs. Monaghan opened her mouth and closed it again before she spoke. “Given the extenuating circumstances,” she said in a strained voice, “with regards to his recent placement in your home, the school can offer some lenience. One week’s suspension, starting today.”Victor held her gaze for a long moment. He was mad, Billy realized, and not just at him. “I’m sure Billy appreciates that leniency. Don’t you, Billy?”“Yes,” said Billy quickly. “I definitely appreciate that, because fighting is wrong and I shouldn’t have done it and I’m very sorry for what I did.”Victor nodded his approval. When he spoke again there was something steely about his tone. “Is there anything else we need to discuss, or can I bring my foster child home now? I’d like to check whether he’s seriously hurt, and get him and ice pack.”Mrs. Monaghan winced. “No. There’s nothing else we need to discuss.”“Good. Come on, Billy, let’s get you something for that bruise.” Was that it? That couldn’t be it. Billy stood up slowly, keeping an eye on Mrs. Monaghan as he did for any indication that he should stop. She didn’t even look at him, she just watched Victor open the door and hold it. She didn’t make a sound as Billy took a step towards the door. Still no objection as he approached the threshold, and then Victor’s big, gentle hand was resting lightly between Billy’s shoulder blades, and they were on their way out of the office. Billy was so surprised to be stepping into the lobby so soon that he didn’t even think to shrug Victor’s hand away.The van was parked right in front of the school, in one of the spots marked for twenty minutes or less. Apparently, Victor knew going in that this was going to be quick. The sheer confidence of it blew Billy’s mind.Victor stopped him before they got in the van.“Are you alright?” he asked seriously. “Anything hurt worse than a bruise?”“I’m fine,” said Billy. “Really. Just sore.”“Look at me for second?”Billy obliged and let Victor squint at his eyes for a couple seconds.“Your pupils are the same size,” Victor concluded, “but you can’t be too careful about knocks to the head. Do you feel nauseous?”Billy shook his head. Victor opened the door for him and Billy climbed up into the passenger’s seat, settling his backpack in his lap. “Good. If something starts to hurt worse, tell me.” He closed Billy in and walked around the car to get in on the driver’s side. “In the meantime, now you can tell me what happened.”Right. Dread curled up tight in his stomach. “I got in a fight.” Billy didn’t see any point in trying to make it sound less bad, Monaghan had already given a pretty accurate account.“I understand that,” said Victor. He turned the key in the ignition and the van sputtered to life. They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “I’d really like for you to tell me what happened, though.”“Someone was being an asshole and I hit him.”“Language. What was the other boy doing that made you want to hit him?”Billy picked at his sleeve. What had started out as a loose thread on his red hoodie’s sleeve several weeks ago had grown into a hole big enough to stick his thumb through. He didn’t know if Pedro could get in trouble his tangential involvement. Pedro hadn’t done anything, but maybe Victor would think that he should have stopped Billy sooner. Billy decided against mentioning Pedro at all, just in case.“He tried to take my backpack.”“Got it,” said Victor. “He tried to take your backpack, and then what? You punched him?”“Not. Um. I didn’t exactly punch him.”Victor raised his eyebrows, waiting for more of an explanation. Billy yanked a thread out of the hole in his sleeve. Was there any way to say this that didn’t make him sound like a total psychopath? He couldn’t think of one."I hit him in the face with a book.”Victor furrowed his brow. “You hit him with your class reading?”“No.” Billy sighed. “It was a big science textbook. I grabbed it from one of the juniors.”The crease in Victor’s forehead deepened. “Someone tried to take your backpack, so you… grabbed something heavy? To use it as a weapon?”Billy grimaced. Victor pinched the bridge of his nose.“Okay,” Victor went on. “There was another boy involved, too, right? Where does he come in?”“Oh, yeah,” Billy recalled, “He kind of tackled me into the wall after I hit the first one.”“When did you get the bruise on your face?”“The second guy hit me after the tackle thing.”“Did he hit you anywhere else?”“No he-” Billy stopped. He’d been about to say something along the lines of “that guy couldn’t throw a real punch to save his life,” but Victor probably didn’t need to hear that part. “He hit me, then I hit him, and he didn’t get back up until after. And then the other one tried to get me in a headlock so I bit his arm to get him off me. And then the vice principal came over.”Victor whistled low. “Jeez, kid. Both of these boys were older than you, right?”“Yeah.”“Bigger than you?”“Yeah. The first guy was really tall.”Victor hummed to himself, and didn’t talk again for a bit. Billy slouched down into his seat and faced the window. Buildings and cars slid lazily by. He wondered where Emma would try to stick him next. It didn’t really matter; it wasn’t like he was going to stay wherever it was. Still, he wondered if there were any homes willing to take him in left in Philadelphia. It had taken six years for him to be effectively blacklisted in Pittsburg, but he had also been a bit slower to run when he was younger. Given how many times he’d run away in Philly, he could be out of options here.They passed a gyro restaurant. Billy’s heart skipped a beat- that place wasn’t on the way from school to Victor and Rosa’s house. He’d been too preoccupied to notice before, but nothing he saw out the window was on the route they usually took to and from school. Victor was driving them somewhere else. Were they going straight to Emma’s office? That couldn’t be right, Victor couldn’t possibly have had time to make the call already. Or could he? Maybe at this point the conversation didn’t take very long. Hell, maybe all you had to do to get rid of Billy these days was send a text- Dear Ms. Emma Glover, MSW.: you were right, kid’s a maniac, can’t have him around other children. Will be dropping him off shortly.No, Victor wouldn’t do that, Billy tried to convince himself. He wouldn’t make Billy leave without having a chance to say goodbye to everyone first. He tried to slow down his breathing. At the very least they would let him pick up his stuff from the house. They had to. Victor had promised they wouldn’t get rid of his things. And if Freddy wasn’t home by the time Billy left, Billy could leave just him a note. That wouldn’t be so bad.“Billy?” said Victor. He was watching Billy with of evident concern, as well as he could without looking away from the road. “Are you okay? Does something hurt?”Billy forced his voice not to shake. “Are we not going back to the house first?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word home right now."Ah,” Victor relaxed again. “Just a little detour. I should have told you. I want to stop at the store to get some frozen peas for your face. Way better than those blue gel pack things.”Billy should have been relieved. He was relieved. But the tension of being in Limbo was starting to wear him down. He hugged his backpack closer to his chest. He wished Victor would just say it out loud, rather than letting it hang in the air, ready to drop at any moment. His throat felt so tight that he didn’t trust his voice not to crack if he spoke again. They rode in silence until Victor pulled up to the grocery store.Victor let him stay in the car while he ran inside. Just up and let Billy be by himself, in a public area close to the subways, with access to everything in the car. If he wanted to, Billy could be long gone by the time Victor got back to the car. He could take all the change in the console, hop on the subway, ride to a place with no witnesses, transform into the big guy, and fly away. He didn’t do that. It would look really bad for the Vasquezes if Billy vanished off the face of the earth on their watch.He would definitely do that later, though. He didn’t want nicest people he’d ever met to take the fall for it, but he’d known for two months what was going to happen if this home didn’t work out. His mom didn’t want him, and he wasn’t going to any more foster homes. He wasn’t going to go back into that pinball machine to get bounced around to another ten or twenty families, or however many he went through before he inevitably ended up in juvie or jail. Not when he had another, way better option.He didn’t have to be Billy Batson anymore unless he felt like it. And why would he feel like it, when he could be an actual superhero instead? No more foster parents, no more social services keeping tabs on him, no more going to school. He could live in the lair and see Freddy after school to go fly around and fight bad guys.He had to ride it out for now with Victor, and grab his stuff and say goodbye. But once he left this place, Billy would be gone. And this time they weren’t ever going to find him.Victor came back after a few minutes. True to his word, all he had in his hands was a bag of frozen peas. He offered it to Billy as soon as he opened the car door, before he even climbed into the driver’s seat. Billy gingerly pressed the bag up to his jaw and hissed at the initial shock of cold.“Yeah, I bet that doesn’t feel great,” said Victor. He grimaced sympathetically and buckled his seat belt. “It’ll feel better in a second through, trust me.”Billy’s only reply was a vague grunt of agreement. Talking was really starting to hurt.“You remember the talk we had in this parking lot?” Victor asked him. “A couple weeks ago?”A wordless nod. Billy’s chest ached.“All of that stuff we talked about is still true, understand? I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but me being disappointed doesn’t change anything.”Billy knew that. Victor hadn’t broken a single promise he made last time they talked here. Nobody had ever tried to hurt Billy, and nobody had stopped him from sleeping in his bunk or eating at mealtimes, and nobody had stolen or gotten rid of any of his stuff. It made sense that he had to keep the last promise he made, too. Billy could stay as long as he could be safely mixed in with the other kids. And now they both knew that he couldn’t.“I get it,” Billy whispered. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes stung and his voice sounded scratchy to his own ears, God damnit. If he cried right now he was going to lose his mind. He would rather call down the lighting and destroy this van with both of them still in it than let Victor see tears in his eyes. He breathed through his nose and tried to squash down whatever the hell was going on inside him. He risked taking a quick look at Victor’s face to see if he’d noticed.Bad move. Victor looked fucking crushed over there in the driver’s seat.“Oh, Billy,” He said softly. He reached over the console and stopped just short of touching Billy’s shoulder, letting his hand hover for a moment. Giving Billy a chance to wave him away or shake his head. Billy did nothing, so Victor’s hand settled right behind his left shoulder. It felt nice, even if it made it even harder for Billy to keep tears at bay.“You’ve been trying so hard, buddy,” said Victor. “Don’t go thinking we haven’t noticed. You’ve been getting along with everyone in the house, and going to school every day, and helping with the dishes- it’s a lot. We’ve been really proud of you.”And that was it, that was why Billy’s chest felt like he’d been kicked right in the sternum. He’d never tried this hard in his life to make a place his home. Not even at the first foster placement when he was four years old, when he’d politely thanked the nice old lady taking care of him and then walked out the front door to go find his mom.And now he was going to have to leave, because he’d done the one thing he could have done to get himself kicked out. The only reason these people would send him back into the system was if it wasn’t safe to have him around other kids, and Billy had just proven that something as stupid as trying a grab a backpack in front him would send him into some kind of berserker frenzy where he used any object on hand as a bludgeon and bit like a feral animal. He couldn’t stay in a house with little kids in it. He couldn’t even be mad at anyone but himself over it. Victor and Rosa didn’t have a choice.“Are you ready to go home, son?” Victor asked, hand still a warm and solid presence on Billy’s back.Billy had always hated when adults called him son. Now he wondered if anyone would ever call him that again.He nodded. Victor started the car.“It’s gonna be okay,” Victor promised as he drove. Billy tried to believe him.He had successfully avoided crying by the time they pulled into the driveway. He shuffled through the door, thinking as little as possible. Victor gave him some ibuprofen and sent him up to his room with the frozen peas, saying he had to call Rosa to check in.As he thumped up the stairs to his and Freddy’s room, Billy wondered how exactly this was going to work. Was his social worker going to come pick him up? Emma had done that before, albeit usually from police stations. Would he be staying the night here while they made other arrangements for him? At this point in the afternoon that seemed like the most likely option. It was a little past one-thirty. The rest of the kids would be done with school in about an hour.He wanted to get at least part of it over with before Freddy got home. Freddy was going to freak out when he found out Billy was leaving, and packing with that kind of energy in the room would be just about impossible. So he set his backpack down on their shared desk and started working his way through the room, trying to remember what was his.He didn’t actually need his schoolbooks anymore, but he probably shouldn’t let social services know that he had no plans to ever go to school again. He left them in his backpack and planned to blow them up with lightning bolts later, sometime when he needed cheering up. Clothes were easy enough, he only wore five or six shirts. Freddy could keep all their comics, he had no idea who had bought what anyway. He snagged a couple of the bullets that had bounced off his face that one time, though, out of the drawer on Freddy’s side of the desk. If Freddy wanted more, he could get himself shot in the face. He took a clay Christmas ornament that Darla had made for him off the dresser.Was that it? He’d only been here for two months or so, he supposed. He hadn’t had time to accumulate much stuff. It just felt like longer.Billy had never much liked the phrase “setting down roots.” He wasn’t a plant. He didn’t have any roots to set down. But now it seemed like maybe he did have roots, actually, some network of stringy little appendages growing out of his heart that had managed to burrow into the floorboards of this place. Picking up his stuff this time felt like digging parts of himself up that didn’t want to be exposed to the open air.He sat down on Freddy’s bunk and pressed the frozen peas up against his sore jaw. They were starting to thaw and turn squishy. They still helped, a little, but his face hurt and his shoulder hurt and his stupid chest cavity hurt and everything hurt-Someone knocked at the door. Billy stiffened. He wasn’t ready to go yet.The door opened, and Victor stepped hallway into the room. He had a bag of frozen corn in one hand. “I brought you some fresh-” he started, and then froze.Billy followed his gaze to see what was wrong, but Victor was just staring at his packed bag on the desk.Victor took another slow, careful step into the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. “What have you got going on there?” he asked, nodding towards Billy’s backpack. There was a tightness around his eyes.“Um.” Billy cocked his head, not sure what was confusing about a packed bag. “I’m packing?”Victor leaned down to offer Billy the frozen corn, handling it as gently as a baby bird. He didn’t withdraw his hand right away when Billy took the bag from him, or stand up straight. He looked, for an uncharacteristic moment, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Almost like he was afraid he’d make the wrong move.“Can I sit down?” He asked.Billy suddenly understood, and felt stupid for not seeing it at first. Victor was here to break the news that Billy had to leave, and he was surprised to see that Billy already knew. That was why he looked so confused, and nervous, and- sad? Yeah, that was definitely sadness around his eyes.It made Billy feel a little better to see that Victor was sad, too.“Sure.” Billy gestured in the direction of the desk chair. Victor crossed the room and sat down with those same slow, controlled movements that Billy was starting to recognize as part of a whole-body affect that Victor put on for serious discussions. No sudden moves that might freak traumatized kids out, no big expressions that could be misinterpreted, no raising his voice. Non-threatening body language 101. Billy had seen other people, mostly social workers, doing the same thing around him, but Victor was impressively natural about it. He must have had a lot of practice.Victor wheeled himself closer, but left Billy with a comfortable three feet of personal space. He really did look sad, and he sounded sad when he asked, “Billy, why are you packing?”“Because I don’t want to have to do it when Freddy’s here?” Billy answered. “Plus, I don’t actually know when I’m gonna head out, I guess, so I figured I might as well get ready now.”Victor’s forehead scrunched down. His eyes searched Billy’s face for something. “Billy,” he said. “I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes. I need you to tell me exactly what you think is going on right now.”Billy raised his eyebrows. “Like, what’s happening right now?”“Yeah,” Victor affirmed. “Right now. Why are you packing up like you’re leaving, buddy? Where are you going?”“I mean I don’t actually know where I’m going,” said Billy, “But- yeah.” The ache in his chest intensified. He pushed through it, not caring anymore if his voice cracked. “I know you can’t let me live here anymore. It’s okay.”The way Victor reacted, you would have thought Billy had slapped him- eyes wide, lips parted, utterly horrified.An irrational spike of anger sent blood rushing up into Billy’s cheeks. Why the hell was Victor so shocked? Billy wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. He could barely even be called a kid anymore, and once he left this house, he wouldn’t be a kid at all. He knew where the line in the sand was, and he knew he had crossed it, and he knew what had to happen now, and Victor looking at him like he’d just said something horrible wasn’t going to change anything.“Why are you looking at me like that?” Billy snapped. “We already talked about this, remember? The only reason you call social services to move me is if it’s dangerous to have me around the other kids. I get it. You can’t have a kid in a group home that might snap and start biting people. You have to look out for Darla and Eugene, and I can take care of myself anywhere, and it’s going to be fine.”“Oh god,” Victor muttered. He looked like he was going to be sick.“What?” Billy demanded.“Billy- no.” Victor said firmly. “That is not what’s going on here. We are not going to kick you out for getting into a fight at school, not now, not ever.”For the second time today, Billy felt the floor drop out from under him. “What?” he croaked.Victor stood up and grabbed one of Billy’s hands to pull him up off the bunk. Before he could begin to process what was happening, Billy found himself enveloped in Victor’s arms in a fierce hug.“I am so sorry,” Victor was saying while Billy’s head spun. “I’m so sorry I gave you a reason to think you weren’t welcome here. This is your home, I promise we won’t ever ask you to leave because of something you did.”With his face smooshed into Victor’s shoulder, Billy could avoid confronting the fact that he was definitely crying now. He didn’t even know why he was crying. He was just too wrung out to do anything else. He was probably getting Victor’s shoulder all wet and gross, which was going to be mortifying once he had the energy to give a shit. As it was, he slumped against Victor’s sweater with nearly all of his weight and let himself be held upright by broad, gentle arms.He’d never been hugged by someone as big as Victor before, but it was kind of incredible. It felt like being in a cocoon.Victor didn’t seem to mind holding Billy up. He rubbed Billy’s back in soothing circles and took slow, deep breaths with him. “We’re not worried about you being with the other kids,” he murmured after a few moments of quiet. “We’ve seen you with Eugene and Darla. They’re not scared of you even a little bit, they think you’re cool. And Freddy’s given you plenty of reasons to kick his ass, I’m sure, but I’ve never even seen you shove him. You’re not that kind of person. We trust you.”“I smashed someone in the face with the heaviest thing I could find,” Billy muttered into the fabric of Victor’s sweater.“Yeah, buddy, I know. And you’re grounded for that, by the way. But,” Victor sighed. “I also know that when you run away, and all the stuff you have in the world fits in your backpack, you learn pretty quick to fight back when someone tries to take it off of you. I’m not that surprised about how you reacted.”“It was Pedro’s backpack he grabbed,” Billy admitted.Victor made a funny noise. Billy reluctantly extracted his face from sweater material to squint at him. Victor took Billy by the shoulders and stepped back half a pace, still holding him upright but now able to see his face properly.“Billy, buddy,” Victor said with a strange, crooked smile. “Just to be clear. You beat up two kids older and bigger than you because you saw someone messing with your foster brother?”Billy nodded once. That was basically what had happened, yeah.Victor snorted. “Yeah, okay, kiddo. I don’t think I’m gonna worry too much about the other kids in the house being safe around you.”Billy blinked dumbly at him. Was that pride he was hearing?“I might worry about the guys at school that try to mess with you, though. Anyone ever told you that you fight dirty?”That startled a wet, teary laugh out from somewhere in Billy’s stomach. "Yeah, once or twice," he agreed.“Come here.” Victor pulled him back into a hug. “You’re okay, kid. We’ve got you. We’re not letting you go now.”All the tension Billy had been storing up for the past several hours left him. He let his shoulders sag and leaned his forehead up against Victor’s collarbone. Hugs, on occasion, might actually be kind of nice, he thought. He let his eyes drift closed and breathed. For the first time in hours, his chest didn’t feel too tight.He didn’t really process the sounds coming from the rest of the house until they were right outside the door.“Billy!” Freddy shouted. “Billy, three girls at school asked for your number, we need to talk strategy-” Billy jerked his head up and started to extricate himself from the hug exactly as the door burst open. There was Freddy, face flushed with excitement, barreling his way in without so much as a glance at his surroundings. He got two and a half steps into the room before lurching to a halt, eyes widening as the details of the scene before him started to process.“What’s happening?” He blurted. “Why are you hugging? Why do you have a bag packed?” Freddy looked to Victor in a panic. “Victor! Is he leaving? You can’t just let him leave, is social services trying to move him? He didn’t even do anything wrong, Monaghan just hates us because of that fake facebook account I made last year-”“Hey, hey!” Victor let go of Billy to hold his hand up in a placating gesture. “Billy’s not leaving. Everything’s okay. He’s just grounded until his suspension’s over. Bag’s not packed to go anywhere, it’s full of some stuff we picked up on the way home. Right?” He looked at Billy with a conspiratorial little smile.“Yep,” said Billy, forcing as much gratitude into the syllable as he could. He’d just expressed more feelings in the last half hour than he had for the entire year that preceded it. Talking to Freddy about the emotional roller coaster he’d just ridden probably would have killed him.“Oh.” Freddy slumped with relief. “Oh. Okay.” He looked at Billy properly now, grimacing a little as he did. “You okay, dude? You face looks kinda rough.”“Yeah,” said Billy. “I’m good.”You can’t let him leave, Freddy had said. Let him, not make him. Even confronted with the sight of Billy packed up to go, even after seeing what he’d done at school with his own eyes, it had never occurred to Freddy that Billy might get kicked out.Maybe if he stayed long enough, Billy would develop that kind of surety too. It sounded nice.“By the way,” said Victor. “Grounded means no hanging out with girls.”Billy snorted. Freddy’s jaw dropped.“Oh come on!”