After the shocking revelation from their very literal foreign guest, the Avengers gathered for a private meeting—this time without Billy present.
"I knew there was something strange about that guy," Tony began, doing everything he could not to glance at Doctor Strange so it wouldn't come off as an intentional pun.
"I mean, who would've guessed that under that big lightning bolt on his chest—beneath all the sparkles and muscles—is a kid who probably hasn't even finished high school yet?" he added.
"Maybe a graduating senior," Clint Barton remarked casually.
"Not helping," Tony shot back flatly, looking around at the others. They still needed to decide what exactly they were going to do—or how they were supposed to handle their stranded guest.
"Considering we haven't exactly earned his trust yet, it must've taken a lot of courage for him to risk revealing that his secret identity is a kid to us," Bruce Banner interjected, trying to view the situation from Billy's perspective.
"It's a good thing he did," Clint added thoughtfully. "Can you imagine us putting on some adult-only movie for movie night while there's a kid sitting right there in the middle of us—looking exactly like a grown man?"
Tony immediately pointed at him in agreement.
"He didn't have to tell us," Doctor Strange said calmly. "He could have continued living as Captain Marvel without revealing anything. But he chose to trust us. The least we can do is take responsibility for him. Right now, that's the only way we can actually help him—and it's clear he needs it."
As he spoke about responsibility, Strange deliberately looked toward Tony Stark.
Tony immediately raised a hand in protest. "Nope. Don't look at me. I already know where you're going with that," he said quickly. "I don't do kids. In fact, I'm terrible with them."
"That's a lie," Natasha Romanoff countered casually. "You're great with kids."
"Yeah, he is," Clint Barton added, nodding as Tony tried to wave the claim away.
"Maybe being responsible for Billy would help you realize just how much of a child you can be sometimes," Steve Rogers jabbed lightly.
Tony shot him a brief glare before rolling his eyes.
"I would not mind watching over the young warrior," Thor offered enthusiastically. "Perhaps I could teach him a thing or two."
Every head in the room slowly turned toward him, their expressions filled with unmistakable disapproval.
"Right," Clint muttered dryly. "Like underage drinking."
Tony didn't miss the chance to pile on. "Or maybe you'll teach the kid how to cause millions of dollars in property damage every time you want your hammer," he said with a sigh. "You know… instead of just walking over and grabbing your gear like the rest of us."
Tony had complained more than once about the aftermath of Thor summoning his hammer through walls, floors, and occasionally expensive equipment during emergencies. Thor had heard it plenty of times before, so the jab didn't bother him much.
But Tony's comment did trigger a different thought entirely.
Billy had been chosen as a champion of the gods.
Which meant… there was a chance he might be worthy.
Thor suddenly found himself wondering whether the boy could lift Mjolnir.
And if Billy actually managed to pick it up and swing it around, the others would never let him hear the end of it.
Worse still, if the boy could handle the hammer casually while the rest of them treated it with reverence… the teasing would be relentless.
Thor kept those thoughts to himself, though the quiet look on his face made it obvious something was turning in his mind.
"Hopefully he's not trying to transcend our imagination again and come up with something none of us have even thought of," Clint remarked under his breath.
Strange cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to the matter at hand.
"How about we all share responsibility for the boy," he suggested. "Each of us, in our own way."
"You mean… joint responsibility?" Tony asked, glancing around the room. "Everyone here?"
Strange nodded once.
Tony exhaled. "Alright," he said finally. "I can work with that."
At the very least, it meant Billy wouldn't necessarily have Tony on speed dial every time something came up.
"With that settled," Natasha Romanoff began, "he's still a kid. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to actually live like one? Maybe do a little hero work when he's called on—or when he absolutely has to."
"You mean like… sending him to school?" Tony Stark squinted, the sarcasm clear in both his tone and expression.
"It might be good for him to spend time around his peers," Doctor Strange added thoughtfully, supporting the idea. "Even if he doesn't fully realize it yet, the psychological trauma from losing his world—and everyone he's ever cared about—could weigh heavily on him."
"Then the kid needs therapy, not high school," Tony objected immediately. "Imagine a kid with that kind of power getting targeted by bullies."
"Yeah, that would be quite unfortunate," Thor remarked.
"Billy does look like the type who gets picked on a lot," Clint Barton commented casually.
"Oh, you mean Billy?" Thor said, realizing their angle. "I thought you meant the bullies. I feel pity for them."
The room went quiet as everyone turned toward him.
"Imagine Billy being bullied at school," Thor continued with surprising seriousness. "Why would he need to seek help from an older brother when he can simply turn into one and deal with them himself after school?"
Tony narrowed his eyes, slowly stroking his goatee.
"He… actually has a point."
"What?"
"Did he just—?"
The others stared at Tony, stunned that he seemed to agree with Thor of all people. Tony cleared his throat quickly, raising a hand.
"What I mean is," he clarified, "first, we'd have to make sure Billy understands responsibility. No going around willy-nilly blasting kids with lightning bolts. Second—"
"He could give them wedgies at superspeed," Clint cut in.
Gasp.
"Superspeed wedgies," Tony said, instantly abandoning the previous point as he leaned into Clint's idea. "That's a new one."
Across the room, both Doctor Strange and Bruce Banner looked like they were physically restraining themselves from facepalming.
Natasha chuckled quietly as she watched Tony and Clint run with the absurdity.
"With his speed and strength," Tony continued enthusiastically, "I'd actually be curious to see how creatively he'd deal with bullies."
Clint nodded in full agreement.
"What is a wedgie?" Thor asked, looking between them with complete confusion—though he seemed oddly excited by the idea. "It sounds… entertaining."
"That is a subject for another day," Strange said firmly. "Preferably one where I am not present."
He had no intention of encouraging their behavior—or their increasingly ridiculous detour from the discussion.
"Stark," he said pointedly, redirecting the conversation, "you were saying."
"Right…" Tony cleared his throat, pushing aside the sudden mental image of whether Thor had ever experienced something like a god-tier wedgie back on Asgard while growing up.
"Secondly," Tony Stark continued, "someone needs to keep a close eye on Thor whenever he's in charge of the kid. There's honestly no telling what those two might get up to together. The last thing we need is Fury and the rest of the brass thinking Thor has started bringing a whole lineup of Asgardian gods over to Earth."
He paused before adding with a sigh, "The little stunt Loki pulled a couple years back didn't exactly do the reputation of other Asgardian gods any favors—Thor excluded."
"Then it's settled," Doctor Strange declared.
Everyone's attention shifted toward him. He seemed to be in a bit of a hurry as he spoke.
"From this point forward, everyone here shares responsibility for Billy. And we make sure he doesn't go around revealing himself—or his abilities—to the public."
"Yes," Tony added in agreement. "It's better if the world only knows Captain Marvel as Captain Marvel. That way Billy actually gets a chance to live a life of his own… eventually."
With that, the meeting continued for quite some time, the group gradually accepting the reality that Billy had effectively become the shared responsibility of every person in that room.
- - -
[Billy Batson's POV]
A couple of days after the big reveal, the members of the team seemed to warm up to me in their own ways.
Being around them no longer felt like walking a tightrope or stepping on eggshells all the time.
They started including me in their combat and physical training exercises—without my powers. After watching me for a while, Steve Rogers decided it would be a great idea to make it mandatory for me to join his daily workouts.
All I can say is… it's been absolute hell.
He refused to let me use treadmills and instead dragged me out for long, painful runs that felt like they'd never end.
Steve and Natasha seemed more than happy to share that responsibility, taking turns training me on different days of the week.
Natasha focused on hand-to-hand combat, while Steve handled the workouts. Both of them kept insisting it would be foolish for me to rely entirely on my powers without training my body like a normal human.
"What happens if you find yourself in a situation where you can't transform for some reason?" Steve had asked during one of our sessions in the building's gym.
Clint, who absolutely refuses to teach me how to use a bow and instead prefers to show off his own shooting skills, usually hangs around during my training with Natasha. And when Natasha had him spar with me so I could apply what she'd taught me in a real fight…
Let's just say he didn't hold back.
For the past few days, they've basically been taking turns beating my body into shape—literally.
Steve and Clint treat me like a mix between a younger brother and a teammate, even though I'm not officially an Avenger.
Natasha, on the other hand, feels more like an older sister.
Meanwhile, Bruce Banner has run several tests on me. He says he's checking for radiation or any lingering effects from crossing dimensions through the portal that the speedster tried to use for time travel.
So far, though, he hasn't found anything concerning.
Thor doesn't seem to be much of a morning person. He's never shown up for any of the workouts or training sessions. Most of the time, he just sits with me and tells stories—tales about his battles, his conquests, and the things he's done as a god.
Normally, those kinds of stories would sound like fairy tales. But hearing them from an actual god makes them feel… different.
Even if he probably exaggerates a few details here and there.
Tony Stark, on the other hand, is more like the cool uncle who knows how to have fun.
Not only that, he's ridiculously rich.
My jaw literally dropped the first time I saw one of his cars parked in the garage.
"No. We're not doing that," he shut me down instantly before I could even suggest he take me out for a joyride.
So far, everyone's been cool in their own way. And there haven't been any reports of other incidents lately.
Right now, I'm heading toward Tony's lab—though honestly, it might as well be his bedroom. I've started coming here so often that it's basically a routine at this point.
As much as Tony enjoys working in private, he also loves showing off his work. So he usually lets me hang around in a corner and watch.
Last night he had me transform into Captain Marvel (Shazam) and then started tossing mechanical parts and metal plates my way so I could weld them together using my lightning.
I still don't get why he had me doing that when he has AI-controlled machines that can weld things with perfect precision. Maybe it was his way of indulging me.
Or maybe he was just amusing himself, especially since the parts he gave me kept getting smaller and smaller.
After noticing the result of my first attempt with one of the smaller pieces, he tossed another part toward me.
"Try compressing your lightning sparks," he said casually, barely glancing up from the holographic displays in front of him. "Weld the parts without reducing the power. Just reduce the size and tighten the accuracy."
The holograms in front of him showed the framework of whatever he was building.
I'd never really focused on my lightning like that before.
But when I compressed the energy—funneling the lightning from my fingertip to carefully weld a delicate bend in the metal plate on the worktable—I realized something interesting.
The lightning didn't just shrink, it started looking more like a laser beam.
I might need to update my list of abilities.
The elevator doors opened just outside Tony's office.
"Mr. Stark?" I called as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The lab was empty.
No Tony anywhere.
"Mr. Stark?" I called again, glancing toward the bed at the far end of the lab where he sometimes crashes for a quick nap.
But he wasn't there either.
"Mr. Stark is currently absent," an electronic voice announced.
Oh—did I forget to mention he has his own AI assistant?
Yeah. He does.
"Is he in the building, J.A.R.V.I.S.?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, Mr. Stark is currently absent from the building."
"I see… thanks, Jarvis." I shrugged slightly.
Guess I'll head over to Bruce's lab instead.
Sure, he's a total science geek and all—but he can be fun sometimes.
And honestly?
His lab is pretty awesome too.
After heading back to the elevator and pressing a button, I arrived at Bruce Banner's lab.
Through the window, I saw him drawing some of his own blood from his arm and sealing it inside a vial. He added another liquid compound to it before placing the vial into a small device that began spinning.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I slowed my pace as I watched, stepping through the automated doors as they slid open on both sides.
It looked like he was running some sort of experiment using his blood.
Or maybe… experimenting on himself.
"Mr. Bruce?" I called out.
He lifted his eyes from the microscope he'd been peering into just as I stepped inside.
"Oh, Billy," he greeted, giving me that familiar warm smile.
"Are you… okay, Mr. Bruce?"
"Yes, Billy. Just running a few tests," he replied as he rolled down the sleeve of his lab coat and removed his gloves. "And Bruce is perfectly fine."
"Good," I said with a small chuckle. "Because I was about to drop the whole 'Mr.' thing anyway."
Calling him Mr. had mostly been a show of respect for the kind of calm, approachable person he seemed to be. The sort of teacher everyone in class actually liked.
"I see," he said simply, rising from his seat and slipping off his lab coat.
"Heading out?" I asked as he turned toward me, hanging the coat up before running a hand through his hair.
"Yes. I have to meet a colleague of mine," he replied, then paused mid-step. "Sorry, did you need something?"
"Not really. Staying indoors all day has just been kind of boring."
"I see…" he said thoughtfully.
Then he looked back at me.
"Tell you what—why don't you come with me?"
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, I wouldn't want to intrude on your meeting. Or end up sitting around in some office waiting for you."
Sure, I might get to see a bit of the city—but if it turned out to be some long office meeting, that would probably get boring fast.
"I doubt that," Bruce replied with a small smile. He walked over and lightly tapped my shoulder, motioning for me to follow as we headed toward the door.
"Where we're going," he continued, "is Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." He emphasized the last part.
"You mean… the school full of mutants?" I asked. He'd mentioned a couple days ago that the X-Men ran a school for mutants.
"Yes," he nodded. "A place where you can be both yourself… and the big guy."
"Sweet." That actually sounded pretty awesome.
Now I'm really curious about what kinds of mutants, and powers I might see there.