Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The start of the weekend had been fairly routine: they’d sparred with each other (in the gym and then beat the tar out of each other with Mario Kart), went out and stopped some bad guys, then made a meal and snack run before returning to the Young Justice headquarters just as it was getting dark. There was an all-night movie marathon with their names on it. Now if only adults wouldn't be so bothersome.

“Who’s coming for check-in, Rob?” Superboy asked, as he started to sort through the copious amount of snacks they had unpacked from the Super-Cycle. Whichever Justice League member was slated to do a quick check in tonight determined whether or not they’d have to hide the good snacks and/or movie choice. It was a ‘temporary’ aka now-standard measure whenever they wanted to have a sleepover now, since Red Tornado had retired after being turned human and now stayed with his family. Long story, and they were all happy for the guy, but now it meant extra Justice League interference since they no longer had a semi-regular ‘den mother’. Robin barely looked up from the computer as he finished his routine run-through of the security checks, as Wonder-Girl fended Impulse off from the pile of snacks with a broom like he was a stray cat.

“Captain Marvel.”

“Cap’s coming? Yes!!” Bart skidded to a stop next to Robin, fist pumping the air. “He never snitches about unhealthy snacks.” His moment of slowness cost him, as Wonder-Girl walloped him in the stomach with the broom, eliciting a sad yowl of betrayal.

Robin turned away from the computer screen, thoughtful. “The movie choice, however?” Everybody stared at Conner, whose turn it had been to choose tonight’s showings. “What?” he asked, defensively incredulous, “What’s wrong with the Blood-Guts Vampire-Zombie Detective Versus Murder Sludge from Mars trilogy, extended editions?”

Bart popped up by Conner, patting one hand on his back in a show of support, and sneaking a chocolate bar from Conner's pile of snacks with the other. “Ab-so-lute-ly NOTHING!”

Cassie brandished the broom with a growl so guttural it could probably summon some underworld demons. “NO snacks until the movie starts, Bart! You know the rules!” The chocolate bar was dropped with a yelp as Impulse hid behind a very unsympathetic Superboy. She turned to Robin. “So you think he’ll freak about it?” she asked, normal as ever.

“Hmm…” Most of the superheroes who were signed up for check-ins weren’t too attentive about that sort of thing if the movie wasn’t actively playing, as they were mainly sent to make sure nobody was being actively attacked, kidnapped, or, apparently, consuming their body weight in unhealthy snacks (Thanks, Bart). Some, though, like Black Canary, would absolutely check all of the movie cases for titles she deemed ‘too bloody’, even when they tried to pretend they were having a board game night instead, (like they hadn’t already seen far too much blood given their line of work).  Captain Marvel was definitely on the relaxed side of things; he’d do the standard security sweep/checklist and engage in some genuine small talk. The guy was exceedingly friendly and good-natured, and the first person Robin had ever seen exit an interaction with an Impulse-on-a-sugar-rush without trying to strangle Bart, so props for that. But despite the friendliness, he always seemed just a bit distant, as if he was hiding something, or almost frightened. Which, if Tim were in his shoes, he might’ve been too, since dealing with a Batman hyper-fixated on learning your secret identity wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. It was actually pretty impressive that nobody had figured it out, and if he had ever spilled the details to anyone, Tim wasn’t privy to that. But Batman, despite everything, had basically zilch in his files, which Tim knew definitely irked Bruce. Not that Tim hadn’t considered also trying to uncover Captain Marvel’s secret identity—I mean, he was the one who had discovered THE secret, Batman’s identity, so if anyone could do it, maybe he could. But it was just a little too far outside his comfort zone to go full-stalker-mode on a Justice League member who, though secretive, had proved himself time and time again. So the only things he’d uncovered were purely observational, and hadn’t helped in solving the puzzle.

That tangential train of thought aside, he was pretty sure even the ever-innocent-almost-weirdly-aloof Captain Marvel would notice the gory-mess that was Conner’s movie selection and hold issue with it if it were playing when he walked in.

“We should probably wait to start the movie until after Captain Marvel checks in, just to be safe,” Robin finally answered Cassie.

Conner groaned dramatically in the background. “C’mon, Rob, we’re not going to be able to finish all three if we don’t start now! I’m not gonna wait around all night for the guy.” Tim looked at the clock, it was 8:06.

Oh. Oh.

Now this was interesting.

See, one thing those casual observations had revealed, was that Captain Marvel was never late. Never. Justice League meeting, monitor duty, post-mission reports, you name it.

Of the half-dozen check-ins he’d done so far, the good Captain had always arrived at eight o’clock, on the dot, at the official ‘curfew’ time. And the few training sessions Black Canary had roped him into helping out with so far, (so Conner could actually learn how to properly punch without breaking someone’s jaw)? Perfectly punctual.

And now he was late. With no reported world-ending events.

Robin’s mind buzzed with the possibilities. As he sat, fingers steepled, deep in thought, the remaining Young Justice members tried to come up with a solution.

Cassie tried to be sensible. “Well, we can wait. Maybe we can just watch the non-extended editions instead, Conner.”

Conner gasped in horror, clutching the DVD cases to his chest like pearls. “Any true fan of Blood-Guts Vampire-Zombie Detective knows that the extended editions are the ONLY editions! The theatrical cuts ruined Zorg’s character arc!” Cassie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Whatever. I’m going to go make some popcorn.” She stalked off towards the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

“If the ‘Big Red Cheese’ doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’m starting it!” Conner yelled, booting up the DVD player to back up the threat.

“Hey, waitasecond, what’s wrong with the popcorn we already got?” Bart innocently asked, hoisting up one of the comically large triple-jumbo bags of Jalapeno-Cheeto-cheesespray-flavored popcorn over his head.

“Idiot thinks ‘proper’ popcorn should only have butter and salt on it.” Conner huffed.

“Whaaaat? But that’s so plain.” Impulse wailed, as Wonder-Girl simultaneously yelled from the kitchen: “I heard that, Conner, you jerk!” Conner winced.

“Wait, what if we just bribe him?” Bart suggested, as the dull roar of the popcorn air popper whirred from the kitchen.

“Bribe him?” Conner echoed, confused.

“Yeah, we’ll give him some snacks to stay quiet, send him on his way, and nobody’ll be the wiser!”

Robin glanced over, amused. “You really don’t want Max finding out about this, do you.”

Bart momentarily stopped his supersonic perusal through the snack piles for a proper offering, hands full of choices from Conner’s side of the pile. “I mean there’s totally no problems but also Max did not like finding out whatever Black Canary told him last time so--” He ducked around a flying Conner, who had attempted to tackle him before faceplanting into the floor with a growl. “Don’t you dare give him the Chocos, Bart, those are mine!”

As Robin watched the ensuing antics with a barely discernable smirk, he thought about Bart’s suggestion. A snack bribe would never work, especially if it was so obviously a bribe. That would certainly get mentioned in any report to Max. And another curious thing that casual observation (and Batman’s files) had uncovered: Captain Marvel almost never took proffered food. Apparently, per the file's deleted history, Batman had even once thought Captain Marvel didn’t eat at all, though time eventually proved that he would sometimes eat a little food at Justice League events, or eat with someone in the cafeteria, so he clearly could physically eat. But it was just another weird thing that didn’t give any answers at all. Robin filed away the implications for later, as the computerized alert announced the use of the Zeta-tube a room away.

“Captain Marvel, JL-09”

It was 8:09.

Steps sounded down the hall as Conner got one last elbow in at Bart. Fifteen seconds later, a head finally poked through the open entrance, followed by the rest of the brightly-clad Captain Marvel as he strode through the doorway.

A slightly slower entrance than usual, Robin couldn’t help but note.

“Hey guys!” The Big Red Cheese announced, seemingly as cheery as ever. “How’ya doing?”

“CAAAAAPPP!!” Bart squealed, “my LIGHTNING BROTHAAA!!” He zipped towards the hero for a hug, which, given the size difference, resulted in him latching around his leg like a koala. Despite this, Captain Marvel continued walking forward, face now sheepish. “Hey, Impulse,” he replied, as Conner facepalmed behind him.

He continued with his introductions. “Hey Superboy, Robin.” Superboy waved back as he surreptitiously kicked the DVD cases underneath one of the couches, while Robin gave a nod of acknowledgement, moving aside from the main computer so the Captain could conduct the security check. (One he had already gone over, thank you very much, he was perfectly capable of keeping his friends safe without additional adult oversight).

Robin watched as the man walked over to the console, gently tolerating the presence of the still-attached Impulse. Something…something was off. Each movement was just the slightest bit too slow, almost hesitant or twitchy compared to the patterns his brain was used to cataloging. The smile, just a bit too forced (he never thought he’d see the day when Captain Marvel would fake a smile, but here it was). The Captain stood in front of the computer and logged in with his codes, scrolling through the security checklist. It was the same-old, tedious process, but as Robin squinted from his angle at the side of the computer, it looked as if the man’s eyes were almost glazing over. Not from boredom, surely? And there was none of the usual small talk, either—Marvel was unusually silent, only responding every so often with a word or two to the ever-chattering Impulse.

The hero suddenly blinked, and gave the slightest shake of his head. So not boredom. Fatigue? Did Captain Marvel ever even get tired? It was like seeing Superman sneeze.

Captain Marvel turned to Robin, as if remembering something. “Wait, is Wonder-Girl here?”

As if on cue, Wonder-Girl walked out of the kitchen, holding a huge plastic bowl with both her hands filled to overflowing with buttery popcorn.

“Oh, hey there, Cap!” she called, as she walked into the common room. He waved back, before addressing Robin again, clearly on the attendance page. “Is that everybody? Arrowette, or anyone else?”

“That’s all,” Robin responded. Arrowette had retired, but still popped around every once and a while for a movie night, but not tonight. And he certainly wasn’t going to mention the Secret with a capital-S currently hiding and waiting for the all-clear. Some in the League might suspect what was going on, he knew, but nothing could (as long as Robin had anything to say about it) ever prove that Secret was here at headquarters; Robin ran the security here, and the Justice League only saw what he wanted them to see, and any attempt to access or bypass their security wouldn’t work. (And if Bruce attempted to use Oracle, well, he was sure she’d be sympathetic to their cause). Captain Marvel hadn’t been involved in that whole DEO incident, but he wondered how often Justice League members were briefed on Young Justice activities. Another thing to hack and find out later; he added it to the mental list.

“Cool, cool. Oof, sorry, one second—” Marvel fumbled with the keyboard as he tried to input the final authorization code. Robin eyed the incoordination.

“Right, that’s it. Oh my gosh,” Captain Marvel finally noticed the computer clock, now at 8:19. “I am SO sorry, I didn’t realize I was late.” He stepped away from the computer, finished, before looking down at Impulse. “Well, I’m afraid I have to leave now, so you’ll have to let go.” Bart sadly detached, slithering down to the ground like a limp noodle as Captain Marvel started to walk towards the entryway to take the Zeta-tube.

Superboy excitedly perked up from where he had been impatiently laying on one of the couches, ready to pop the forbidden DVDs in the second Marvel zeta-ed out. Head up, he caught sight of Wonder-Girl standing with her bowl of popcorn. “Eww. Nobody likes that crap,” he grumbled.

Cassie glared at Conner, before her expression morphed into a sneer. “Hey, Mr. Marvel,” she turned and called, “want some popcorn?”

Conner gripped the side of the couch in silent horror.

Halfway across the room, Captain Marvel turned, as if only noticing what Wonder-Girl had been holding for the first time. “Whoa. Is that buttered popcorn?”

“Yep,” Cassie smiled proudly, ignoring Conner’s returned glare. “Real butter, none of that fake-flavor chemical trash. And perfectly salted.”

Robin could feel Conner’s stare shift to him, trying to make eye contact to wordlessly implore him to shut this down, but his own gaze was firmly fixed on the Captain, to gauge his reaction. There was a split second where he thought the superhero would agree to the offer, given the glint in his eyes, before his expression shifted into an almost mournful look as he stammered a reply. “Ah, thanks for the offer. That looks really, really good. But I-uh, I already ate. Sorry! I should be going.”

(Okay, that lowered the chance of Marvel actually being an impostor slightly, but Robin still wanted to see things play out more.) Impulse beat him to it, zipping in front of the Captain.

“I knew it! You don’t like plain popcorn either!”

“Um, no, and, it’s not actually plain, it’s got butter and salt—”

“I bet you’d like it if I made it special.”

“Uh—”

The last time Captain Marvel had encountered one of Impulse’s ‘special’ food creations had been last month, where he had walked in with Black Canary for a training session and found half the cave covered in nachos. Special nachos that were covered in chocolate sauce and pickles and rainbow sprinkles, and not to forget, extra spray cheese. The horrified expression on Marvel’s face hadn’t left that whole day; punctuated only by a split-second of what had almost seemed to be mournful loss as he had surveyed the countless garbage bags filled with uneaten nachos (Black Canary had made Impulse clean the whole thing up, despite Impulse’s arguments to keep the nachos in place as an ‘emergency measure’ in case the base was ever ambushed and he needed a quick snack to keep up his speed.)

Nobody would ever forget that day. Or the smell of old spray cheese.

Cassie certainly hadn’t. She quickly lifted the bowl of popcorn over her head, out of reach of Impulse, who had attempted to snatch it for his special concoctions. “Not today, Satan!”

The Captain interceded. “Maybe another time, Bart. I really should get going—”

Robin smoothly interjected, sidling up next to the Captain. “Of course! So why doesn’t Wonder-Girl get you a bag of that to-go?”

Marvel seemed hesitant. “Oh wow, that would be swell, that’s really thoughtful. But I don’t want to be any trouble…” His words died down; all Cassie had to hear was the first part of that sentence, and she was already back in the kitchen, looking for a Ziploc bag. Bart slunk behind her like Peter Pan's shadow, still hoping for an opportunity to make some special popcorn.

Robin ignored Conner silently mouthing “WHAT THE *bleep*” in the background as he segued into small talk. “Well, while we’re waiting, been up to anything interesting?”

“Oh, you know. Standard stuff. Stopped Sivana from destroying another Chocos factory.” He dryly chuckled. “What the guy has against cookies, I’ll never know. But,” he suddenly stopped, and quietly sighed, “dealing with the 30^th robot was a whole lot less fun than the first, let me tell you.”

Robin made a sympathetic sound. “Yikes. So, bad day?”

Marvel huffed. “More like a bad week.” Robin gave another sympathetic cue, and the Captain continued talking. “Wednesday, had to deal with a demon outbreak all day. Thankfully, nobody got hurt. And then I was called over to—well, I’m sure you know about it—that space mission with Superman, yesterday? That—yeah, no. And then Sivana this morning, which took forever, and the cleanup from that, and, and just some, uh, personal stuff, y’know… it’s been a little busy.” His voice tapered off as he looked a bit sheepish at having said so much. “Ah, sorry for the rant.”

Okay, Tim officially felt like a jerk. Clearly, even Captain Marvel got exhausted, and had obviously had a not-so-good week, and here he was trying to scrape every last bit of information to satisfy his deranged curiosity.

“No, it’s okay. Sorry if I was prying,” Robin genuinely responded. “Here’s hoping you’ll get a chance to relax this weekend.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping,” Marvel wearily smiled, a tired irony glinting in his eyes, as if Robin didn’t know some inside joke.

Cassie burst back out of the kitchen, holding a gallon-sized Ziploc bursting with popcorn (bless her) in one hand, and a frustrated Impulse by the scruff of the neck in the other. “Here ya go, Cap, special free!” She unceremoniously dumped Bart on the ground, who yowled like an insulted cat as she presented the bag towards a pleasantly surprised Captain Marvel.

“All of this? Oh gee, thank you so much.” He held the bag of popcorn, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his face. “This is definitely the highlight of my week, thank you. I should go now though—” He cut his farewell off suddenly, biting back the words as he physically stepped backwards, eyes suddenly riveted towards an empty corner of the room in apparent horror.

The vibe of the room instantly shifted, putting everybody on high alert. Conner stood on the couch, ready to punch something. Bart’s eyes went from Cap to the empty corner and back and forth quicker than a jumping bean; there was still nothing there. Cassie looked to Robin, unsure of what was happening but ready to follow his lead.

“Captain…?” Robin asked, quietly, not making any sudden movements.

Marvel didn’t answer, as if he wasn’t listening, and instead walked forward, past the teen heroes and towards the empty corner. “No-no-no-no-no-I couldn’t have missed it, I couldn’t have,” he half-whispered, moving forward.

“Okay what the frick is he looking at?” Conner hissed.

“ARE WE HAUNTED!?!” Bart wailed in dismay, cowering behind Cassie.

Bart’s loud cry seemed to snap Marvel back into remembering they were still there. He looked back, slightly panicked. “Um, sorry guys, just a little magical problem. Don’t worry-just stay there, I’ll handle it—” His head shot back to the corner, seemingly addressing it with rising panic. “No, no, you said you wouldn’t, don’t you dare—!”

There was a loud *poof* and all of a sudden there was a little boy in the once-empty corner. He had black hair, pale baby-fat skin, and a dark suit. And he was just hovering there, petting a cat on his lap.

Robin caught Wonder-Girl’s eye. Yep, this was definitely a magic problem. Captain Marvel sighed, turning back towards them again, defeat written over his face. “You can see him now, right?” Robin nodded. Marvel turned back. “Klarion,” he sighed, in the all-too-familiar disappointed-parent voice, “you’re not supposed to just show up, remember?”

The boy in the corner released a petulant sneer. “And YOU’RE not supposed to be late, but here we are!”

“Late?” Cap was momentarily indignant. “I’m not late. I’m—wait, oh gosh,” he turned back to the Young Justice members for an answer, “what’s the date?”

Everybody was still calibrating to the weird situation, but ready to step in if the boy made a wrong move. “July 19^th,” Robin supplied. Marvel’s face dropped in horror. “Oh no, no-no-no…” he started saying, but the boy in the corner shrieked over him, hovering closer.

“That’s right. You’re TWO. DAYS. LATE. We had a deal!”

“Now just wait a minute, Klarion, don’t be rash—”

“You know the ru-ules, and so- do- I-!” the boy snickered in a sing-song lilt as he raised a hand. “Say GOODBYE!” He snapped his fingers.

And the room exploded with retina-searing lightning.

- - -

Robin sprang to his feet, mind racing as he took in the scene.

Despite the room apparently being filled with lightning a second ago, they were all fine. In fact, the room was surprisingly fine, no scorch marks in sight, just a bunch of snacks thrown everywhere from the force of the blast. He’d been knocked down, as had Cassie and Bart, but nothing was on fire and nobody was dead. Yet.

Conner stood in the middle of the room, hoisting up a struggling kid by the scruff of their sweater. “Okay, what the hell just happened?! Where’s Cap?!” Conner growled. Robin quickly grabbed his shoulder. “Put him down, Superboy. I’m pretty sure that is Cap.”

Conner sheepishly put the boy down, now noticing the differences. This kid was just as small as the mysterious boy, and also had black hair, but wore a bright red sweater and jeans instead. The kid—Cap—rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around at the Young Justice members, Cassie and Bart now crowding in to gawk as well.

“Ummm…” the boy started to say, panic growing in his eyes.

“Ohmigosh!” Bart practically squealed, “did you just get de-aged?!”

“Uh. Um. Yes! Yes I did.” He backed up a few steps, before realizing his intended destination was behind the Young Justice members. “I, uh, I really should be going now. Gotta go get Zatanna to get fixed, you know the drill.”

That seemed to part the waters, the teens moving aside; Bart still gawking, Conner apologetic, and Cassie nearly giggling over the adorable mini-sized Leaguer.

Robin had other ideas.

He stepped in front of the mini-Cap, intercepting him mid-step. “Hold on. Who was that?”

Mini-Cap tried to sidestep him, intent on getting back to the Zeta-tube. “Oh you know, Klarion, ex-Lord of Chaos, but who knows what he’ll do now—” When Robin stepped in front once again, he saw the boy’s face visibly grow frustrated. Apparently mini-Cap wasn’t in as much control of his emotions as he was in his adult form. “Look, Robin, I appreciate the concern, but I really, really, need to go back to the Watchtower. This is Justice League business, not Young Justice's problem.”

Conner interjected with a chuckle. “I dunno, you look pretty young to me right now.”

Mini-Cap tried to glare at him, resulting in an adorably hilarious expression.

Robin was insistent. “I want answers. That…entity—just showed up in our base, so it very much is a Young Justice problem now.”

The boy turned his glare towards Robin. “You’ll get answers. Just not right now. And if you’ll excuse me—” he moved forward, like he was about to try to push past Robin, when—

“Batman, JL-02”, the ever-friendly computer voice chirped.

The boy shrank back in horror.

“Please!” he whispered, scanning the faces of all four confused teens. “He can’t see me like this.” His eyes finally sparked up towards Robin in desperation, voice wheezing with frantic breaths. “Please! Hide me and you’ll get your answers, I promise!”

His bright blue eyes were filled with fear and what increasingly looked like tears. Why the possibility of Batman seeing him de-aged was so frightening—half the Justice League had been de-aged at some point or another by now—Robin didn’t know. But Robin knew they only had five more seconds before Batman crossed that doorway, so he made the call. “Bart,” he hissed. “hide him.”

Bart, the ever-faithful-when-it-counted, blipped in place. Mini-Cap was there, then gone.

“Um, what!?” Conner asked in indignation, clearly wanting to hash things out then and there.

“I’ll handle this,” Robin placated, his voice holding the unspoken promise that answers would be found, as he turned to greet the approaching Batman.

“Batman,” he acknowledged, as Bruce nodded back. “Robin. Is Captain Marvel still here?”

Cassie, bless her, knowing that Conner and Bart could not act (or at least, not act horribly suspicious) to save their lives, jumped right into playing interference, turning to the two teens with a vengeful glare that looked terrifyingly genuine. “You two, I swear to Hera, if you don’t clean up this mess RIGHT NOW there are going to be SERIOUS consequences!!”

Robin ignored the ensuing background noise, confident in Cassie’s ability to keep the boys occupied in cleaning up the extremely messy room (the lightning blast had thrown everything back, so the previous sand dunes of snacks had been tossed around like a tornado had rolled through). He knew Batman was also noting the somehow-messier-than-usual room with an unposed question. “Bart,” Robin said, gesturing, and that one word truly could explain away any mess of any magnitude. Batman seemed to accept the explanation, so Robin continued on to answer the previous inquiry. “Captain Marvel just finished the check in and left. Why show up here?”

They both knew the question wasn’t rude, it was fact-finding—Batman could have easily just contacted Captain Marvel through his Justice League communicator, but for some reason obviously wanted to intercept him in person.

“Hmm. I wanted to ask him something.” Robin cocked his head, waiting for the details he knew that Batman knew he’d have to supply. A beat of silence. “I’m still waiting on Captain Marvel’s mission report,” Batman admitted. Oof, yeah, Marvel never submitted reports late either, this was clearly not his week, and Batman had picked up on the broken behavioral pattern. Batman’s next comment was surprising, though. “Did he seem alright?” Huh? “Off, somehow?”

Aww, Batman really did care about his superfriends.

“Tired,” Robin supplied. “He actually seemed tired. Apparently he’s had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad week.”

“Right.” Batman’s stone expression wilted slightly, imperceptibly. “The Jupiter mission.” Robin raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know the details of the recent space mission, but they both knew he’d hack something later and find out if Batman didn’t spill. “We weren’t able to save all of the astronauts.” Robin nodded in understanding. Losing anyone during attempted rescues was freaking rough, even for Herculean bullet-proof superheroes.

They stared at each other for a blink longer, the only noise being Cassie in the background arguing with Bart to not dump seasoning on the ‘plain’ popcorn that had spilled on the floor even if he wanted to ‘clean it up by eating it’, as Conner grumbled about having to reorganize all of the snack piles with a righteous fury.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Batman said, before turning to go. Robin could have sworn there was the tiniest bit of amusement hidden in his voice, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the Justice League ever had moments of pure chaos like this. It was entirely possible; they had Wally and Plastic Man, after all.

The seconds ticked by, and eventually the computer chirped his departure. The chaos in the room immediately exploded into a frenzy of complete confusion.

“Okay, Rob, what the hell is going on?” Conner demanded, bounding over. “I’d like some explanations now as well,” Cassie added. “So do I,” admitted Robin, “and we’ll get them, right now.” He turned to Bart. “Lead the way, Bart. The Captain did promise us answers.”

“Wait,” Cassie interjected, “should I go get Secret for this, or?”

“No,” Robin decided. “Best not to let any Justice Leaguer know she’s here for sure. We should probably warn her to not come out yet, though, since it’s later than usual.”

“Uhm. Robin?” Bart asked, innocently. That was never good.

Conner picked up on it too. “What did you do now, Impulse?”

“Welllll… you did say to hide baby-Cap, and I assumed you meant in the safest spot, so I may have hidden him in the safe room…”

The safe room. The same extra-secure room that Secret usually hid in when Justice-Leaguers came knocking. Robin resisted the growing urge to face-palm. Conner did not have the same restraint.

“Bart…” Cassie groaned. Bart threw up his hands. “Okay, next time if you want him hidden in the broom closet, just say that! I didn’t know!” He cocked his head, struck by a brilliant thought. “Should I go move him to the broom closet?”

“No, nope. Stay here.” Robin grabbed Impulse’s shoulder before his sporadic thoughts got the best of him. “We’re going to go talk to him, right now. Hopefully Secret had the sense to stay hidden.”

The four teens stalked down the base hallway, towards one of the back rooms. Robin stood in front of the camouflaged, triple-enforced, lead-lined door, inputting the password as Bart impatiently tapped his foot. No sooner did they push the door open when a figure whisked into sight, her pale, ghostly form wreathing in an invisible wind. Secret.

“I don’t know what’s going on, or why Bart randomly dropped a kid off here, but he’s really freaked out,” Secret quickly explained, face clearly distraught. “Is he okay?”

The four teens piled into the room; it wasn’t very large, but was cheerily furnished with a fully stocked pantry (snacks) and a sofa and beanbags, which faced a TV and wall full of movies.

“That’s…Captain Marvel.” Cassie supplied. “He’s been de-aged!” Bart gleefully interrupted.

“Apparently.” Robin added. “Did he see you?”

“I don’t know!!” Secret fluttered about anxiously. “He’s just been sitting over there, talking to himself. I tried to ask him if he was alright, but I don’t think he even heard me, and I didn’t want to spook him.”

“Alright. Stay hidden for now then.” Everybody walked closer to the couch, which was blocking their view, Secret flying high.

Mini-Cap wasn’t on the couch, but sitting on the floor, back pressed to it, head buried in his curled arms and knees.

“Okay, in my defense, I left him on the couch.” Bart whispered. The four teens hesitantly walked around the couch, Secret floating overhead, out of sight.

It was straight up bizarre to see one of the heaviest hitters on the League, hunched over on the carpet, looking so…vulnerable. Robin stood in front of him, and made his presence known. “Captain...” No response.

Listening closely, Robin could hear him whispering something under his breath, over and over, the sound muffled by his position. “Shazam-shazam-shazam-shazam-shazam-shazam-shazam—”

“Marvel!” Robin called, summoning his best Batman-growl, and for good measure, lightly shook the boy’s shoulder.

Startled, mini-Cap looked up, face momentarily scrunching with terror, though Robin could see him quickly fight to hide it. “Robin…guys…” he acknowledged. A bite of uncharacteristic hardness entered his voice as he struggled to his feet. “I appreciate the favor. And—” he added, cutting off any attempts to interrupt, “I will get you answers. But I really have to go. I-I have to get this fixed. So if you’ll bring me back to the Zet—” Robin finally interrupted, realizing Marvel was loath to actually answer anything straightforward.

“You do realize a Zeta-tube wouldn’t work with you currently de-aged, right? That we'd have to call the League?” The boy’s face paled. Okay, apparently he didn’t know that. Robin continued. “And since you were so eager to get back to the Watchtower earlier, why don’t you tell us exactly why you suddenly didn’t want the League finding out about this? — Why you hid from Batman?”

“I- I—” he stuttered, eyes wildly searching for some escape.

“What are you hiding,” Robin pressed.

Conner stepped forward, and mini-Cap tried to step back, but ended up backing into the couch, trapped, as he couldn’t scoot back any further. “Maybe we should call back the Justice League, right now. Have Wonder Woman come down here with her Lasso of Truth…”

Robin jumped on the conversation thread; he could tell Marvel was close to spilling the beans. “And I’m sure Batman would love the opportunity to talk—”

Apparently, that was the thing to say, or maybe the wrong thing to say, because the boy promptly burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. Cassie was the first to react to the shocking sight, putting a hand on Conner and Robin’s shoulders to pull them back a few steps from the crying boy, as Bart stood still, confused, beside her. “Jeez, don’t crowd him, what’s wrong with you guys?”

The sight of what was once the ever-jovial Big Red Cheese crying his eyes out was just slightly unnerving. “Okay, maybe we should call Batman back here,” Conner admitted.

“No, no, please don’t do that,” mini-Cap half-sobbed, before his breath hitched. “Holy Moley, it’s all over. It’s all over. It’s all over!” the boy breathed to himself, nearly hyperventilating.

“Uhm…” Robin said, momentarily at a loss for words. Mini-Cap’s eyes met his, his voice drowning in growing panic. “You CAN’T tell your dad, PLEASE! They’ll throw me out of the League-and-and-that’s ALL I have right now. You CAN’T!”

“My…dad?” Robin echoed, very much confused. The confused response seemed to momentarily stymie mini-Cap’s apparent emotional breakdown. “you know…Batman?” he hiccupped, as if the answer was obvious.

“Batman’s not my dad,” Robin stated matter-of-factly, wondering how they’d gotten so far off topic.

But that was the final straw for a previously tongue-tied Bart. “WAIT. Batman’s NOT your dad!?” Cassie not-so-discreetly elbowed him. “We already knew that, remember?” Bart thought about it. “Ohh, right…”

Marvel’s eyes hadn’t broken their gaze with Robin. Robin stepped forward, slowly, not wanting to trigger him again. “Captain. I can’t promise that Batman won’t find out about this until I know all the details. What are you hiding that you think will get you thrown out of the League?”

A beat of silence. The teen heroes waited, with baited breaths.

Some fragile hope seemed to shatter in mini-Cap’s eyes, and his shoulders slumped down in defeat. He pulled his legs onto the couch, hiding his face again.

“That I’m a kid,” his muffled voice mumbled out.

“Well, duh, he’s a kid, they can’t blame him for being de-ag—” Conner began to sputter, but Robin moved forward, leaning down closer to eye level.
“How old are you?” Robin asked, softly.

“…Eleven,” the boy hiccupped. Cassie gasped. Robin tried not to let the shock of the confirmation get to him as whispered murmurs from the other Young Justice members erupted behind him. Because this was big. Way bigger than he had imagined. A thought danced in his periphery: Captain Marvel has been operating as a superhero for nearly three years…

“What’s your name?” Robin pressed, in the same quiet voice.

The young boy finally raised his head, smearing the tears out of his eyes with the ball of his palm. “B-Billy.” He sniffled, and tears welled back up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He furiously wiped at his eyes, as if he could force the tears back. “I’m trying to stop it’s just- I’m so tired, and my life is over, a-and- Batman’s going to kick me out, and Superman’s going to hate me, and—and—”

As Billy faltered under everybody’s shocked stares, Robin’s eyes ran over the boy, his brain cataloguing and catching up on the observations he should have first made. He was thin, too thin. Small for his age, or, likely, malnourished. Dark circles under his eyes. Clothes ill-fitting, worn, dirty. Multiple holes. Sneakers held together with duct tape. And a hollowness in his eyes that only confirmed that this kid was hurting.

Frick. Robin wished Nightwing were here. He was always the best with kids. He tried to shift his mind from slightly-rude-fact-finding mode to comfort-the-freaking-kid-Tim-you-dummy mode, his brain still wheeling from the revelation.

But it seemed, for once, that their resident speedster thought on his feet just a bit faster, because there was a blink and a soft *woosh* and the kid-who-had-once-been-Captain-Marvel found himself being dwarfed by one of Impulse’s inescapable hugs.

“Bart! Personal space!” Cassie hissed.

Bart only loosened his hold slightly. “But he’s sad. And hugs cure sadness!” He ignored the exasperated looks he got in response. “Don’t you dare doubt the science.”

“It’s okay,” a small voice squeaked out, still half-squished by Impulse, “I don’t mind hugs.”

Cassie’s face softened. “Well, make sure he can at least breathe still.” Bart still clutched protectively at the boy but loosened his grip enough for Billy to sit up better from how he had been hunched over.

“Do you have family? Do they know you’re a superhero?” Robin asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions.

Billy’s tired eyes met his. “No," he sighed. “Nobody knows. Or-now, I guess you guys do so that’s it, it’s over.”

The next beat of silence was shattered by a whistle of admiration from Superboy. Billy’s eyes shifted to him, confused. “Wow,” Conner exhaled, “I gotta hand it to you, Billy. You’ve been in the Justice League for, what, about two years?” The boy nodded hesitantly. “You’ve been pulling the wool over those stuck-ups for years, and the only reason you got caught is because of some rotten luck? That’s wild.”

The only thing wild, Robin noted, was the look in Bart’s eyes as he glared at Conner, narrowed eyes practically daring anyone who’d make the kid cry again that there would be serious repercussions, probably involving lots of glitter and chocolate sauce.

“I never wanted to trick them! I just wanted to help,” the boy deflated again, somehow growing even smaller. “But now they’re going to kick me out, a-and stick me back in a foster home, and then I won’t be able to help anyone…”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Cassie interjected, before the tears could start flowing again. “We’re not actually going to call the Justice League, right guys?” Billy stiffened.

“Never!” cried Bart, still unwilling to relinquish the hug. “Not me,” shrugged Superboy. Billy’s eyes dragged over to Robin, bracing for his answer.

He thought about it. Considered some of the implications of either choice. How Batman would probably expect him to share such a monumental secret. But, he didn’t tell Batman everything. And what mattered, right now, was getting this kid some help, and the Justice League wasn't the end-all for that. 

He held his eye contact steady, letting his genuine sincerity be heard in his words. “Don’t worry, Billy. We won’t tell your secret.”

Bart whooped, finally releasing the hug with one final squeeze as he ran around the room in a victory lap, blipping back onto the couch. “Ooh, ooh!” He hooted like an overexcited monkey, hopping on the couch. “We have a Secret, too!” He pointed up, and Billy followed his gaze, finally seeing Secret who had been hovering by the ceiling the whole time. She waved as she floated down to ground level, and he waved shyly back, a small smile gracing his face for the first time.

“You really mean it? You won’t tell anybody?” Robin could see the eager hope blossoming in his eyes, and as much as he wanted to assure the kid to keep that there, he needed some more details. Not telling the Justice League was different than making sure Billy was being taken care of (and by all appearances, he was not).

“Not unless we have to.” Robin confessed. Billy’s smile faded, just a bit.

“We’re not saying we will tell anyone,” Cassie jumped in, “but we just need to make sure you’re safe first.” She’d also picked up on Billy’s comment about foster homes.

“Meaning, we have some questions,” Robin finished. “Think you can answer some for us?”

“Okay…” Billy said hesitantly.

“Dontcha worry,” Bart conspiratorially whispered over to Billy, putting on a slick-talking-stereotype accent, “I’ll be your legal counsel. I won’t let these coppers pull a fast one ovah ya, ya know what I mean?” His antics elicited a half-suppressed giggle from Billy, who for the first time seemed to relax into the couch, rather than holding himself as if he were being pinned against it.

Man, Tim loved his team sometimes. Actually, all of the time.

“Well,” Tim drawled, settling himself to sit on the carpet, giving Billy the eye-height advantage to lessen stress, “I think I can safely say that none of us want to play the role of bad cop, so if this ever starts feeling like an interrogation, just let Bart know and he’ll yell at us in a stereotypical-accent for you. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Billy assented, with the slightest smirk. Cassie and Secret followed Robin’s lead and sat on the floor, Conner opting to grab one of the beanbags and whisk it over.

“So, Billy,” Robin began, “who—”

“—Who was the literal demon child that poofed into our living room?!” Conner excitedly jumped in, ignoring Cassie’s disapproving glare. Billy glanced from Superboy to Robin.

“Not the words I would have used, but yes. Is he dangerous, will he come back?” Robin added.

“Oh, Klarion? Yeah, that was Klarion. And Teekl.”

“Teekl?” Robin questioned.

“The cat.” Billy supplied. “Anyway, he isn’t dangerous—actually he is, was, a Lord of Chaos so I guess maybe he kinda is but we’re working on that right now—He’s just mad I accidentally broke our deal, so, he probably won’t come back until next time.”

Oookay, a lot to unpack there. Robin tried to prioritize. “Your…deal? If you could elaborate.”

“Billy, as your lawyer, I legally have to tell you that making deals with demon children is no bueno, capiche?” Bart hissed.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Billy seemed unperturbed. “Trust me, he’s not a demon child, so I still have my soul, and he’s actually pretty alright. He just gets bored a lot, and that’s what led him into the whole ‘Lord of Chaos’ thing, (and let me tell you, that is not a fun thing to deal with), so we made a deal of sorts awhile back: he tries not to end the world, I show up every 37 days to play checkers with him.”

“Checkers.” Superboy echoed in a flat voice, and Robin wasn’t sure if he was holding back laughter or disbelief.

“Oh, I guess not just checkers. We’ve also done card games, hide and seek, pulled some pranks—he wants to try video games but neither of us know what to get for that since, well, it’s not like I’ve really played any video games before…”

Superboy whispered to Robin. “We’re circling back to that later, right?”

“…anyway,” Billy finished rambling, “Klarion’s actually pretty cool to hang out with! He’s just a little—” his voice dropped to a whisper, “—selfish, sometimes. So that’s probably why he blew up like that, took my powers. I’ve never been late before, let alone two days late. It’s just with everything, I hadn’t slept so I forgot—” He sighed. “I knew I should’ve agreed to something like every first Monday instead of such a hard-to-remember schedule like every 37 days…”

Robin noted he should circle back to that comment about sleeping eventually. “He took your powers? So they’re gone?” 

“Shazam,” Billy shrugged, waiting a beat before he continued. “Yep, still gone. I mean, I don’t think he took my powers for good, I don’t think he can do that. He probably just cut off my connection to the wizard…” Billy looked thoughtful. “Knowing Klarion, he probably’ll let up in two days, since he was so hung up about me being that late. Or maybe he’ll wait three, for extra chaos.”

Bart gasped dramatically. “WAITASECOND-YOU-HAVE-A-WIZARD??!?!” he squealed at superspeed. “Yeah…?” Billy asked, a little amused at the over-the-top reaction, “How else do you think I got powers?”

Bart could barely contain himself. “That-that’s so…so… wizard!!” Then he had a sobering afterthought. “Wait. So this means you weren’t bitten by a radioactive piece of red cheese?”

“I wasn’t,” Billy admitted. “But that would’ve been cool. And weird. But I’ve heard of stranger things happening.”

“TELL ME!” Bart practically shrieked.

“Bart…” Cassie warned.

“I mean…tell…me...later?” Bart tried to rebound, not wanting to fall to Cassie’s ire again.

“Sure!” Billy happily agreed. “And maybe I can show you the Rock of Eternity, the cave has all sorts of weird magic stuff just sitting there.”

Impulse promptly fainted from happiness onto the floor, because there was no other sane reaction to being invited to visit a wizard’s secret magical cave.

“Right.” The thought of Bart potentially having access to magical relics was far too frightening of a thing to imagine, so Robin promptly added Impulse-accidentally-releasing-an-ancient-evil-again to the things-to-worry-about-later list and moved on.

“Billy,” he asked. “Where do you live?”

Billy wrinkled his nose, knowing he already knew the answer. “Fawcett City.”

“An address, Billy,” Cassie softly added. “Do you have anyone taking care of you?”

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh, we’re going back now? Sweet. I can get home myself, no sweat, if you can get the Zeta working for me.” He slid off the couch and to his feet in a quick motion. “I’m ready to head back now, and I know you guys probably want to get back to your movie night—” Billy suddenly stumbled, hand scrabbling backwards for the couch for support but missing, and Robin leaped to his feet just in time to catch the boy from faceplanting into the carpet next to Impulse.

“Whoaaa there.” Robin steadied Billy to his feet, and a now-revived Bart leapt up to check on his new friend. “You alright there, buddy?” The other Young Justice members scrambled to their feet as well.

“Billy, when was the last time you had something to eat?” Robin checked.

“Umm…” Oh, that was never a good start to an answer for that kind of question. “Oh! One of the factory foremen gave me a free cookie for saving the factory. That was delicious.”

So one cookie. This morning. That was bad enough, but he had to ask. “And before that?”

“Uhm… I know I ate something right before the demons invaded…”

“Which was Wednesday.” Robin said out loud, just so everybody else was on the same page about how messed up this was. Which Bart had quickly realized, as he had immediately re-ambushed Billy with a hug, now doubling as a support pillar.

“Dude.” Superboy looked puzzled. “Do they not feed you up there? I thought the Watchtower cafeteria was supposed to, you know, have food.”

Billy’s (rather pale, Robin noted) face blushed guiltily. “They do. I just try not to eat there. It- well,” the boy tried to point to himself, failing since Bart’s arms tightly wrapped around him, “what I eat as Cap, doesn’t stick to me as Billy. S-so there’s no point to eat as Cap, it just feels wasteful.” He stammered out an addendum. “A-and the cafeteria doesn’t have take-out boxes.”

Bart let out a subdued wail from his hug, before turning his head to Robin and holding out his hand. Robin knew the drill, wordlessly pulling out a wad of cash from his utility belt. Bart swiped it, turning a confused Billy to face him.

“This is really important,” Bart resolved, “so listen closely.” He put his hand on Billy’s shoulder to accentuate the point. “Chinese, Cheeseburgers, or Pizza?”

“Huh?” Billy gaped.

“What do you like?” Bart prodded.

“Oh. Uh, I like cheeseburgers.”

There was a righteously loud *WOOSH* and Bart was gone, leaving Billy blinking behind. Robin caught his shoulder to steady him.

“What is he d—” Billy began, but Bart reappeared, this time conspicuously clutching a large In-N-Out bag. “I got fries too,” Bart explained, “lots of fries.” He thrust the bag toward Billy. “Here!”

Billy cautiously reached forward, grabbing the still-warm bag, its delicious greasy goodness filling the air. (Robin added a mental note: keep some proper nutritious food on the base, too.) “Whoa,” Billy breathed, “is this for me?”

“Yep,” everybody chorused in unison, as Billy stared into the ginormous bag in apparent wonder.

“Why don’t we go back out to the common room?” Cassie suggested. “I can get you a glass of water from the kitchen, Billy.”

“That would be swell, Wonder-Girl, thank you,” the boy nearly whispered, as Bart took initiative on steering the younger boy out of the safe room, Cassie joining him. “C’mon, Billy, I’ll show you which couch is the lumpiest and then we’ll take the other one so Superboy is stuck with it…” They exited the room as Superboy followed behind, playing up the comic indignation for laughs.

Secret stayed behind with Robin, floating beside him, the latter deep in thought as the others left the room.

“He never truly answered the question. About if he had someone taking care of him,” Secret sadly whispered.

“Yeah. And there’s still so much we don’t know—” Robin huffed. “What’s with every superhero having a broken family somehow?” He was lucky, he supposed. He still had his parents. Or, well, they were alive, at least, if not around to have in the true sense of the word since they were gone all of the time. But whatever Billy’s situation, it reeked of the same old story of nobody being around to care. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think he should stay.”

“The night?”

“Stay,” she clarified. “There’s an emptiness in him, I can feel it. A dark loneliness under the surface, from loved ones gone too soon.”

Robin let some of his doubts show. “I mean, he’s got the Justice League. They’re probably way better equipped to handle this kind of situation, get him actual help. We just need to go about it the right way so nobody freaks out.”

Secret shook her head, sending spirals of mist into the air. “He has been surrounded by caring people for years, but they don’t know enough to care.”

“Then shouldn’t we tell them?”

“We all have our little secrets. And some secrets should stay hidden.” She continued. “I think he needs help. And some friends.” She softly smiled. “I needed the same, remember?”

Robin felt the corners of his lips turn up from the nostalgia. “I remember.” The smile turned into a wry smirk. “We didn’t mess up too much, did we?”

She laughed. “I’ll let you know.”

They walked out the door of the safe room together, towards the sound of four kids laughing. The smile stayed on Robin’s face. What’s one more secret kept from Batman, anyway?

 -----

They soon find out that not only has Billy been sleeping in an abandoned building, but that he actually hasn't gotten any sleep for two days and immediately set up a room for him to stay in the base. Robin wires the security so Billy can Zeta to and from Fawcett City as himself and makes sure there’s no records. Billy tells Robin his last name, the plight of his missing-possibly-dead sister, and Robin in turn does what he does best and detectives the heck out of the case. In the interim, when not out as Cap, Billy stays at the Young Justice base and becomes good friends with all of the members—he even lets Arrowette in on the secret. Robin completes his list and makes sure the base is fully stocked with accessible food, and if some of Alfred’s leftovers disappear on the regular from Wayne Manor, nobody’s the wiser. (I mean, Alfred is, but as long as it’s being eaten he’s not going to pry but instead make more per meal ‘cause he’s a saint). Captain Marvel keeps up his Justice League work and also secretly teams up with Batman to bully Superman into taking a more active role in mentoring Conner. Eventually, Robin’s search pays off and a one Mary Bromfield is located and reunited with her overjoyed brother, and he’s promptly adopted. Billy is eternally grateful and makes it clear that should Robin or any Young Justice member ever need anything, he’s there for them. Even after Young Justice is eventually disbanded, they all remain good friends and meet up every so often to watch scary movies, which Billy has slowly become acclimatized to thanks to the ever-corrupting influence of Bart and Conner, though he’s still staunchly on Cassie’s side when it comes to popcorn flavorings. Everybody lives! *spits on DC canon*

(Go to the next part for an extremely important, life-changing, missing scene).

Chapter Text

Bart zipped up to Robin, who was researching something on the base computer. “What up, Rob?”

“Researching.”

“Oooh, about what? Supervillains?”

“School paper.”

“Abouuuuut?”

Robin sighed. “Well, it’s for Chemistry, and I’m writing about serotonin, which is a neurotransmitter and—”

Bart squinted at the computer screen. “What’s serotonin?”

Robin continued, as if he had never been interrupted. “—and a sort of feel-good hormone. It does a lot of things, like stabilize happiness. How it’s made and works is a bit much to explain in a 5-page essay, but there’s a lot of factors. Even something like hugs are known to increase serotonin and—”

Robin’s fact blast was interrupted, once more, as Bart had a brilliant thought. “Wait a sec, Rob—Rob!! Oh mi gosh this is CRAZY!” He sprinted off, before reappearing with a confused Cassie, dragging her along behind him. “Cassie, Cassie, guess what?!”

“What?” Both Robin and Cassie echoed, confused.

“Hugs CURE sadness!!!” Bart shouted in delight.

“Uhm—that’s not exactly…” Robin tried to explain.

“Uhhh, what’s happening?” A confused Conner flew in, apparently from wherever he and Cassie had been. “Why’d Bart snatch Cassie?”

“That’s it, I have FOUND my new life CALLING!” Bart declared. “I regret to inform you all that I shall be LEAVING Young Justice, effective immediately. I SHALL GO OUT INTO THE WORLD, AND EVERYBODY ON EARTH SHALL RECEIVE A HUG!!!” He took an exaggerated breath, but before he could disappear (and traumatize the entire population of the earth), Cassie managed to grab his arm. “Whoooaa there, let’s NOT do that.”

“NOOOOO, you MONSTER!” Bart shrieked in dismay, “THE PEOPLE DESERVE TO BE FREED FROM THEIR CHAINS OF SADNESS!!!!”

Cassie glared at Robin. “Did you put him up to this?”

“Um, nope!” Tim refused to be held responsible for Bart’s Original Brilliant Thoughts™, those were his and his alone.  

She groaned. “Come on, Bart,” she said, pulling along the defiantly kicking Impulse, “let’s go have a conversation about PERSONAL BOUNDARIES while you clean up every single Bananagrams piece that you scattered when you dragged me away without asking.”

“Awwww… but the PEOPLE—”

“Or I’m telling MAX!”

Bart stayed quiet after that, for self-preservation reasons. But he secretly laid plans to ambush his emotionally-prickly teammates with hugs when they least expected it. Because they clearly needed more hugs, and before he could save the world, he had to save his friends.