Batson, the Bat sons and the Shazamily Walk Into a Manor

by HelloThere3306

Summary:

When the lives of the shazamily are threatened, Billy turns to Bruce Wayne for help.

It's really too bad that Bruce has such a large manor.

Notes:

• For 33C.

Alfred Pennyworth was a good butler, but he was also a rational thinker, which was part of the reason why he worked for the famous Bruce Wayne. It was almost the sole reason why he worked for the infamous Batman.

It was also why he was skeptical of doorbell ringers.

After all, he had been the Wayne family butler since before Bruce's parents had perished, and had his fair share of ding dong ditchers and money mongers in his many days.

Bruce and his four adopted bat-kids had been eating their dinner, Alfred sitting dutifully at the opposite end of the table to eat his. Through his blue - tooth earbud, as any butler of Bruce Wayne’s would naturally have, he heard the doorbell comms crackle into being.

“Is Bruce Wayne there,” a childlike voice on the other end asked.

Alfred stealthily slipped out of the room, bringing no attention to his absence. It wouldn't do to worry Dick. “Alfred Pennyworth speaking.”

Alfred heard an intake of breath from the other side. “I need to speak to Bruce Wayne - it’s urgent.”

Alfred sighed. Though the sentence had revealed a tinge of nervous energy, Alfred really didn’t have time to deal with children who wanted money from a Wayne. “I’m sorry, if you want to speak to Master Wayne, you’ll have to make an appointment at Wayne enterprises.”

Alfred was about to cut the connection when the child sputtered a sentence, the first couple words of which Alfred missed through the urgency, “-him my name is Billy Batson, just tell him!”

Alfred cut the connection just as the boy's words had reached a crescendo, practically screaming into Alfred’s ear. He heard the incessant buzzing that signaled a constant pounding of the doorbell button, and resolved that perhaps he would take it up with Bruce.

The kids were rushing over their words as he stepped back into the dining room. No doubt Jason had goaded Damian and Tim into an inevitable argument. Alfred cleared his throat patiently, garnering everyone’s attention quickly. “Master Bruce, there’s someone at the door. It’s a child.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “He was probably dared to come to the door by his friends.”

Alfred nodded. “I came to the same conclusion,” he said as Bruce began eating again. “However he insisted that I tell you his name. ‘Billy Batson,’ he said.”

Dick chuckled, “that’s ironic.”

But Bruce had frozen, staring at Alfred incredulously. His fork clattered onto his plate, and Alfred got the feeling that something was wrong. The butler barely heard the mumble, “what is he-?”

Damian stared at his father incredulously. “You know the kid?”

Bruce glared, but the bite was gone through the spirit of concern shining on his face. “He’s older than you, but yes,” he said, standing abruptly and practically jogging out of the room. “Let him in, Alfred."

Alfred dutifully, however hesitantly, pressed a button on the wall just outside the dining room to allow access. It was accessible in almost every hallway.

Everyone followed curiously, led by Tim. By the time they’d crossed the hallway, ‘Billy’ was already standing inside, shaking snow off his worn boots. Alfred frowned. Billy caught sight of the parade as they turned the corner, shoulders sinking in relief. “Bruce!”

Bruce shook his head confusedly. “What are you doing here, Billy?”

Billy shook his head as well, trying to catch his breath through the panic. Damian looked utterly annoyed, and Alfred hoped for everyone’s sake that the black haired boy would get on with it.

Once he caught his breath, Billy launched into a telling of events that made no sense to anyone but the speaker and the receiver. “There've been - uh, I dunno, weird bad guys circling the house for days and they tried to break in last night and we can’t go to the rock because Vic and Rosa don’t know it exists, so...uh, long story short, we need a place to stay and I figured you’d have some kinda safe house somewhere that we could crash in.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his face. He glanced behind himself at his kids and then back at Billy, whose pleading eyes were staring straight at him. “Are they outside?”

Billy nodded, “uh, yeah they’re waiting in the driveway.”

Bruce sighed again. “Okay. The third floor is an independent living space - kitchen, six bedrooms, two bathrooms. You can stay there until you figure it out.”

Alfred watched as Jason’s jaw dropped. “Don’t we get a say in this? We don’t even know who this kid is!”

Billy seemed to just notice they were there. “Oh, uh - I’m Billy Batson. I’m a...coworker of Bruce’s.”

Bruce glared at Jason. “This is my house. And this,” he gestured to Billy, who was already heading outside to retrieve his family, “Is Captain Marvel.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “That was a child. Marvel is...not.”

Bruce nodded. “It’s complicated. But while his family is staying here, there will be no talk about bats, or robins, or missions, or anything that isn’t what a normal family would talk about.”

Tim crossed his arms. “That cuts out like seventy percent of our conversations.”

Bruce shrugged. “Then I guess we just won’t be talking for a while.”

~ ~ ~

Billy returned shortly thereafter with seven more people - many more than Alfred had been expecting. Each had a backpack with them, stuffed full of clothes and toiletries Alfred could only assume, but aside from that nothing else. The woman walked forward confidently, reaching out a hand for Bruce to shake. He took it politely. “I’m Rosa Vasquez,” she said, a slight accent gracing her speech. “This is my husband Victor.”

Victor nodded, smiling gratefully. “What floor did you say it was?”

“Third,” Bruce answered curtly.

“Happen to have an elevator,” the boy with floppy black hair and a beanie asked. Alfred briefly wondered why the stairs weren’t good enough for him, offended, until the older - looking girl shifted and gestured, as a way of explanation, to the crutch clutched in the boy's hand. 

“Ah, no.” Bruce said regretfully. 

The boy shrugged nonchalantly, though Alfred spotted a tinge of embarrassment color his cheeks. 

“Sorry, didn’t think about that,” Billy said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He then turned the four lined in a row behind Bruce. “This is Freddy, that’s Pedro.”

The girl took over from there. “I’m Mary, this is Eugene, ” she flicked the back of the boy's head, pulling him out of the trance he’d been in, staring at his phone. He smiled sheepishly. “And that’s Darla.” She gestured to a dark skinned girl who enthusiastically waved at the four.

Alfred took up the introductions from there. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce’s butler. These are his kids, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian.” Each one of them nodded or waved or smiled as they were introduced.

Bruce began leading the unexpected troupe upstairs, leaving Alfred and the bat-kids to wallow in the chaos. 

“So,” Damien began, “does this mean I can’t have Jon over?”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Batson, the Bat sons and the Shazamily Walk Into a Manor