By the time Billy stepped into the lounge, his attention immediately locked onto Tony, who was already seated at the counter. A glass rested loosely in his hand, a bottle of bourbon stationed right beside him like a quiet accomplice.
The whole scene carried a kind of deliberate stillness—one that made it clear Tony had been waiting. Hours earlier, he had summoned Billy out of nowhere, calling it an emergency and insisting they meet here.
The sudden request had thrown off Billy's plans completely. He'd been looking forward to exploring the city properly, tour it in the way a tourist would—except with Fred, his AI butler, acting as his personal guide. That idea had been scrapped the moment Tony called.
'It didn't really surprise me when I found out Tony was a billionaire,' Billy thought as he moved further into the room, his gaze lingering on the setup at the bar. 'But now I'm wondering what exactly this billionaire, philanthropist, hero… wants with me.'
"I'm here—what's the emergency?" Billy asked, his tone casual but edged with curiosity as he drifted toward the transparent fridge off to the side.
It was fully stocked, rows of soda and other drinks lined up neatly behind the glass.
He passed Tony on the way, catching the faint clink of ice as Tony tilted his glass. "And, uh… thanks, by the way." As he spoke, Billy gestured with his wrist, subtly referencing the advanced tech Tony had given him—something that hovered somewhere between a watch and a bracelet, the exact one it represents still not entirely clear to him.
"Sure. So, what do you think of Mr. Sparkles?" Tony replied, finishing off the last of his drink in one smooth motion just as Billy grabbed a soda from the fridge.
Billy let out a small huff of amusement, shaking his head as he scooped up a spoonful of ice cream. "That was funny, I'll give you that—but I renamed it. It's Fred now." He paused, the can of soda hovering just short of his mouth, like he was letting the name settle into place before committing to it.
"I asked for a phone and somehow ended up with this ridiculously advanced piece of tech instead. Don't get me wrong—I love it, seriously—but part of me is still waiting for the catch. Like… I wake up one day and realize I've unknowingly signed up to have a few organs harvested as payment." Billy said it lightly, the humor in his voice carrying the last part of the sentence, though there was just enough sincerity beneath it to make an impact.
"Fred? Really?" Tony shot him a look as Billy slid onto the stool beside him at the counter. There was clear disbelief in his tone, like he genuinely couldn't process how someone could take a name like 'Mr. Sparkles' and downgrade it so casually.
To Tony, Sparkles had flair, personality—something memorable. Fred, on the other hand, sounded bland.
Billy didn't bother arguing. He just gave a small shrug, clearly unbothered by the judgment, and tipped his head back to take a long gulp of his chilled soda, letting the conversation roll off him like it didn't matter.
"Anyway… uhh, Fred," Tony called out after a beat, the hesitation in his voice almost comical, like even saying the name left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Fred responded promptly, his holographic form materializing nearby. The AI appeared as a sharply dressed figure in a neat tailcoat, resembling a polished butler shrunk down into a clean, almost toy-like projection—refined, composed, and a little too proper for Tony's taste.
"Provide Billy with the details to his account," Tony said, already reaching into his jacket as he spoke. A moment later, he pulled out an ATM card, holding it between his fingers before offering it over.
Catching the look on Billy's face, Tony raised a brow. "What? Don't tell me you were actually expecting your allowance in cash." His tone was dry, though there was an amused edge to it as he handed the card over.
"Pfftt, of course not," Billy replied quickly—too quickly, really. The denial lacked any real conviction, and it showed, even as his excitement slipped through in the way his expression lit up. "Seriously though… thank you. For all of this." He reached out and took the card, the weight of the gesture clearly not lost on him.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it, kid," Tony waved it off as he pushed himself up from the stool. He picked up the bourbon bottle and slid it back into place among the other drinks on the shelf behind the bar, movements easy and habitual, before reaching for his jacket like he was already halfway out the door.
"There's more," Tony said, his tone shifting just enough to signal that he wasn't done yet. He slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slim envelope, flipping it open with ease. From it, he retrieved a neatly folded set of papers and extended them toward Billy. "Something I need you to do. I'll need you to sign these."
Billy took the documents, his curiosity piqued as he unfolded them and scanned the contents. At first, it was just lines of formal text—dense, official—but then his eyes caught on a particular phrase, and he paused. "Wait… you? My legal guardian?" he read aloud, the disbelief clear in both his voice and the look on his face as he glanced back up at Tony.
"Judging from your track record so far," Tony began, leaning casually against the counter, "you're basically on a fast track to getting yourself into trouble. And that becomes a problem when you don't have identification, or a legal guardian, and—minor detail—you're still a minor." His tone stayed light, but there was a layer of practicality beneath it that made the reasoning hard to dismiss.
Billy gave a small cough, straightening slightly. "Legal in a few months…" he muttered in his defense, though it came out less convincing than he intended, punctuated by another cough like his body itself didn't fully back the argument.
Tony didn't miss a beat. "Sure, maybe where you're from. But what makes you think time works the same way here? For all you know, we take breaks from the calendar—throw in extra days whenever we feel like it and call it a leap year in the most literal sense."
Billy just stared at him for a moment, his mind briefly stalling as he tried to process whether Tony was being serious or just messing with him again. It was the kind of statement that sounded ridiculous enough to be a joke, but coming from Tony, it didn't feel entirely impossible either.
'Yeah… I'm definitely asking Fred about that later,' Billy decided, dropping his gaze back to the documents as he continued reading through them.
"Anyway," Tony went on, waving a hand dismissively as if the technicalities didn't matter all that much, "I know a guy who knows a guy. Pulled a few strings. At this point, all that's left is your signature, and just like that, you're officially my legal ward—on paper, at least. You need an identity, kid. An ID."
Billy's expression remained neutral as he skimmed the last of the text, but his thoughts ran on. 'Yeah… no thanks. If I had to pick, I'd rather it be Natasha… or honestly, any of the others. Just—definitely not Steve. And definitely not the wizard. The idea lingered for a second before he finally looked back up, ready to give his actual response.
"I'll go through them later," Billy said after a moment, folding the papers neatly before sliding them back into the envelope. He handed it over, and Tony accepted it with a small, understanding nod, not pressing the issue any further.
Tony's gaze drifted over Billy then, more deliberate this time, like he was reassessing something. "We need to do something about those clothes," he said as he pushed himself up from his seat.
Billy frowned slightly, glancing down at himself. "What's wrong with them? They're hand-me-downs from Clint."
"Exactly," Tony shot back without missing a beat. "Go grab a jacket or something." He slipped into his own as he spoke, the motion casual but purposeful.
Billy tilted his head, confused. "Why? It's not like I'm heading out."
Tony paused just long enough to look at him properly, like he couldn't believe that hadn't already clicked. "We're heading out."
That was all it took. Billy's eyes lit up almost instantly, the earlier confusion replaced by a spark of excitement. Any chance to explore the city was one he'd jump on without hesitation, and the fact that Tony was the one taking him out only made it better. The man was unpredictable in the best way possible, and if he was involved, there was no way this would be boring.
"Meet me on the roof in twenty minutes," Tony added, already moving like the conversation was over.
Billy didn't waste time. In less than twenty minutes, he had made it to his room, changed, and headed straight for the rooftop. When he got there, he found Tony already waiting—but not quite in the way he expected. The man stood there in a full Iron Man suit, minus the helmet, the armor gleaming faintly under the open sky.
"Have you ever had a shawarma before?" Tony asked casually.
Billy paused, running the word through his head for a couple of seconds, trying to place it. Nothing came up. "I don't even know what that is," he admitted.
Tony didn't answer right away. Instead, the suit began to shift, metal plates gliding upward along his neck as the helmet assembled itself piece by piece. The faceplate slid into position with a smooth click, the eyes lighting up in a familiar glow. "You might want to go Captain Marvel if you plan on keeping up."
Before Billy could respond, Tony blasted off the rooftop, propulsion flaring as he shot into the air. He hovered just long enough to glance back. "We won't be using the roads." And then he was gone, streaking forward into the skyline.
"Coolest guardian ever," Billy muttered under his breath, the words nearly lost to the wind as he broke into a run. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the edge of the tower and leaped off, gravity claiming him for a split second before he called down the power.
"Shazam!"
From a short distance ahead in the sky, Iron Man slowed just enough to glance back. A sudden flash split the air behind him—a bolt of lightning tearing downward with a sharp crack. His visor zoomed in automatically, locking onto the source just as Shazam emerged from the fading blaze.
His cape billowed dramatically in the wake of the strike, arcs of electricity still dancing faintly across his frame as he steadied himself midair.
A second later, he surged forward, cutting through the sky with a burst of speed until he was flying right alongside Ironman. "So… what exactly is this sha-warma thing?" he asked, glancing over as they kept pace with each other.
Ironman tilted his head slightly and gestured toward him. "Use the comms."
Billy caught on quickly.
Looking at his wrist, he discovered that the magic that tailored his costume had magically stylized the watch into looking like a red wrist brace, custom-fitted and clean in design, with a bold golden lightning bolt running across it and wrapping subtly around his wrist. It didn't look like an add-on anymore; it looked like it had always belonged there, like part of the suit itself.
The integration didn't stop there. He became aware of the comms as well—not in his hand, but at his ear. The tech had shifted along with the rest, settling into place so naturally it felt less like equipment and more like an extension of him. It was smooth, intuitive… almost effortless.
It made him realize something. Earlier, due to Agent Hill's abrupt visit, the interruption had cost them the chance of testing it. They hadn't gotten the chance to see how the tech would behave once he transformed. Now, mid-flight, Billy was getting his answer—and honestly, it worked better than he expected. It even made him develop faith in Stark tech.
He tapped on it and gave a quick thumbs-up, confirming the connection. Tony who was wasn't looking, did not notice that Shazam did not motion to put on the coms.
"How do I explain this…" Tony began, his voice now coming through clearly. "Think of it like a burrito. Actually—wait—please tell me you at least have burritos where you're from."
Billy blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, we do."
"Good. That makes this easier," Tony replied. "It's similar, but not exactly the same."
Billy thought it over for a moment, piecing it together. "So… is it like an African or an Asian version of a burrito? I don't mean that to sound racist or anything—it just kind of sounds like it."
Tony turned his helmet slightly, giving him a look through the glowing lenses—a silent, unimpressed pause directed at the kid flying beside him. There was something almost comical about it, considering the sheer power Billy carried paired with that completely unfiltered line of thinking.
'Let's just hope the kid doesn't draw the line at borders,' he mused, a hint of dry humor slipping into the concern. 'Would be a problem if he decides saving people comes with a nationality clause. Just because they are not American.'
"We're here," Tony said instead, sparing himself from unpacking that comment as he angled downward. He pointed toward a small eatery along the street below, already beginning their descent.
As they dropped lower, Tony added, "A shawarma's basically like a grilled chicken wrap—closer to a burrito, but with thinner bread and better sauce."
Billy's expression suggested that hadn't quite landed, so Tony continued, refining the explanation. "Picture a burrito without the rice and beans. Instead, it's packed with spiced meat, garlic sauce, and vegetables, all wrapped tight in warm flatbread."
That did it. Billy's face lit up as the image clicked into place. "Okay… yeah, I get it now. You've officially got me hyped to try this." He paused briefly before glancing around as they neared the ground. "Also… is it normal for us to just walk around like this?" he added, gesturing subtly at their suits as he noticed people already staring, some clearly recognizing Ironman and looking like they were debating whether to approach.
"Absolutely, Captain Sparkles," Tony replied dryly as they touched down and headed toward the entrance. "Publicity. Reassurance. People like seeing heroes out in the open—it reminds them they're safe."
They stepped inside and made their way to a seat by the window, the buzz of the street still visible just beyond the glass as curious glances continued to follow them.
"I get what you're saying, but I think we might be drawing a bit too much attention," Shazam admitted, his voice lowered slightly as he glanced around at the growing number of eyes on them.
"You'll get used to it," Ironman replied casually. As he spoke, the helmet began to retract, plates folding and sliding smoothly into hidden compartments until they settled neatly along the collar and shoulders, revealing Tony's face once more. "Think of it as publicity. It's actually a good thing people see you with me—it helps them tag you as one of the good guys. Give it a day or two and reporters will start speculating whether you're the Avengers' newest recruit."
A waitress made her way over to their table, and Tony didn't even need to speak. He simply gave a small nod and gestured with two fingers of his armored hand, a silent signal that he wanted his usual—just doubled. She caught on immediately and moved along.
While they waited, Shazam let his gaze wander. The stares hadn't stopped—if anything, they'd intensified now that they were seated. There was a certain weight to it, an awareness that settled over him as he realized people weren't just looking—they did so in recognition to the man seated across him, and in wonderment of who himself might be. It gave him an odd, unfamiliar feeling… something close to being a celebrity in a world be wasn't familiar with.
That feeling only deepened when a small group of kids approached their table, eyes wide with excitement as they clustered around Ironman for autographs. One of them turned toward Shazam, curiosity lighting up their face. "And who might you be, mister?"
Shazam hesitated for the briefest second, then straightened slightly. "You can call me Captain Marvel," he replied, his voice steady as faint arcs of lightning flickered across his suit, adding just enough spectacle to make the moment impactful.
The kids reacted instantly. "So cool," they said almost in unison, their attention now split between both heroes.
Shazam could already see the next question forming—the anticipation of autograph requests—but before they could ask, their food arrived.
"Alright, kids, food's here," Ironman cut in smoothly, giving each of them a quick high-five with his armored hand before ushering them away with ease.
'Yeah… I get it now,' Shazam thought, watching as their wrapped meals and milkshakes were set down in front of them. 'This is exactly what he meant.' If he showed up like this—suited up, sitting across from Ironman in public—people wouldn't need an official announcement to connect the dots. Social media would take care of the rest, painting him as someone tied to the Avengers before anything was formally said. Even without a title or confirmation, the association alone would be enough to shape how the world saw him.
Billy's attention lingered on Tony's hands as the armor along Iron Man's fingers subtly shifted. The metallic plating receded in smooth, precise segments, retracting just enough into the suit to free his fingers. It was a small adjustment—allowing him full dexterity without completely shedding the armor.
He unwrapped the shawarma, mirroring Tony, and took his first bite. The reaction was immediate—his expression shifting in a way that said everything before he even spoke. "Okay… yeah. This is good," he admitted, clearly impressed.
Tony didn't even look surprised. "Of course it is."
Another plate was set down at their table, this one carrying something far more questionable—a hamburger donut. Billy stared at it for a second, his brows knitting slightly as he tried to process the logic behind it, and why people would chose it over an hamburger with normal buns.
'I genuinely can't tell if whoever came up with that is a genius… or someone who desperately needs their sanity checked,' he thought, watching as Tony casually set aside his half-eaten shawarma and dug into the new item like this was perfectly normal behavior.
"Either you're starving," Billy began, glancing between the food options, "or the food really is just that good. But… why the milkshakes?" he added, eyeing the drinks with mild curiosity.
"I'm stress eating," Iron Man replied without hesitation, taking another bite before washing it down. "And I've got a sweet tooth." He didn't linger on it, already switching back to the shawarma like he was rotating through courses rather than eating one meal.
But he did it in a controlled and composed manner that it did not seem improper.
Billy slowed slightly, studying him now. "What's got you stressed?" he asked, taking another bite himself, the flavor still hitting just as well as the first time.
"The guy that lady mentioned earlier—the one who's missing—he's not the type to just… disappear," Tony said, his tone shifting just a little. "He could be off-world, sure. Or running some classified mission. But being officially tagged as missing by his closest subordinate?" He shook his head faintly. "That part doesn't sit right."
"Off-world, huh…" Shazam echoed, leaning back slightly as that piece of information settled in. It gave him a clearer sense of just how deep this situation went—and how important someone like Fury had to be for that kind of concern to exist.
He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged lightly. "Well, if he's really gone missing—and he works for the government—maybe start there? Like, check for other officials in high positions in professional feeds who've also gone missing recently. Past couple weeks, maybe months. That's what I would do if I had nowhere to start." He reached for his milkshake and took a long, satisfied sip, clearly pleased with the drink.
When he looked back up, he noticed Ironman was staring at him, his expression caught somewhere between impressed and thoughtful.
"What?" Shazam asked, slightly thrown off by the look.
"That's… actually a plausible idea," Tony admitted, nodding slowly. "Good thinking, Captain Sparkles." He leaned into the nickname just enough to make it clear he wasn't letting that go anytime soon.
Before Billy could respond, the atmosphere in the diner shifted as attention began to drift toward the mounted television. A live news feed flickered across the screen, showing Spiderman in the middle of a chaotic fight against something… unsettling.
Billy's focus snapped to it immediately, his expression tightening slightly as he took in the creature. It was red—wet-looking, almost—its form unstable and writhing, tendrils lashing out in every direction like it couldn't decide what shape it wanted to hold even as it took on a two legged form.
"What is that thing the bug hero is fighting?" Shazam muttered, eyes fixed on the screen. "That's… kinda creepy."
The creature on the screen was hard to look at for too long. Its mouth stretched unnaturally wide, filled with jagged, long and spiky teeth, while its eyes seemed to curl and wrap along the edges of its face like they didn't quite belong in one place. There was something deeply wrong about the way it moved, like its form couldn't settle, constantly shifting between shapes that didn't fully make sense.
"I don't know what that is," Iron Man said, barely fazed as he took another bite of his food, "but for now it's no problem of ours."
Shazam turned to him immediately, confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean it's not our problem?" he asked, glancing back at the screen just in time to see the creature's arm morph—stretching, twisting—before solidifying into something resembling a massive sledgehammer. It swung with brutal force, sending Spiderman crashing into a nearby vehicle with a heavy impact.
"It's kind of an unspoken rule," Tony replied, his tone casual despite the chaos playing out in the background. "We don't go sticking our noses into another hero's fight unless it's absolutely necessary." He followed that up with a long sip of his milkshake, as if the explanation was enough to settle it.
Shazam didn't look convinced. His gaze lingered on the screen for another second before he turned back. "Do I have permission to help?"
That question made Tony pause. He looked at Shazam again, this time with a more measured, serious expression, like he was weighing the decision for just a moment longer than he let on. "Sure, kid," he said finally, his voice even as he shifted his attention back to his meal. "Go ahead."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "But I'm finishing the rest of your food."
'Damn it.' Billy sighed inwardly, the loss hitting him harder than he expected. Still, he found some quick consolation in the fact that he now had an allowance—and, more importantly, he had already spotted that the place offered delivery. 'Yeah… I can work with that.'
With that settled, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, his posture shifting as he refocused on the situation outside. His gaze swept briefly across the eatery one last time before he turned toward the exit . "Fred, guide me to where the bug hero—Spider-Man—is fighting that thing," he said, already heading out.
"Most certainly, sir," Fred responded smoothly.
Moments later, Shazam shot upward into the sky, accelerating fast as he followed Fred's directions, leaving behind the warmth of the diner for the chaos unfolding in Queens.