Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If you'd told Billy a year ago that he'd be joining the Justice League, he'd have said you were fucking insane.  Then again, if you'd told him about his current home life he probably wouldn't have believed that either.

He knows it sounds crazy but the superhero thing is almost easier to adjust to than having people around who genuinely care about him.  He wonders what that says about him and how fucked up he is, but he tries not to dwell on it.  The past is the past.  Shit happened and now he just has to move on or it'll drown him.  What did that movie with the amnesiac fish that Darla made him watch say?  Just keep swimming?  Seems like solid advice.

In his defense he never actually lied about his age to the rest of the League.  The fact is they never asked, so really it's their fault for assuming.  Making an ass of you and me and all that junk, y'know?  And adults don't really talk about their ages like kids do, so it never comes up in casual conversation.  The time's just never right and so he doesn't say anything.  He's pretty much indestructible, so who cares if he's actually a teenager.  He knows how to take care of himself.  So he never actually tells them how old he is.  No biggie!  It's not like he's going to end up transforming back to normal in front of his fellow heroes; he's not that stupid.

(And if he's being honest, really, truly honest... He likes being treated like an adult.  He hasn't felt like a kid in years and it's an ego boost, being respected and treated like an equal by some of the most powerful people in existence.)

He does a damn good job acting like an adult human man.  He should win an Oscar for bullshitting his way through talking about taxes with the Flash.  No one suspects a thing.

Shazam is weird.  The dude knows absolutely jackshit about things like taxes and only has a vague grasp on geography, yet he's completely in the loop about the latest internet trends and which video games are popular and which are for "old people" (as he puts it).  It's utterly bizarre to the point of being hilarious if you think about it for too long.

Then again, Hal's a glorified space cop whose boss looks like a funko pop, so bizarre is kind of par for the course for him at this point.  A certain level of freak potential is required when it comes to being a superhero.  Just look at Spooky.

Another thing; the big guy's been on the League for a few months now and still keeps a lid on anything related to his civillian identity.  Sure, Bats doesn't tell them anything either but that's because he's the goddamn Batman.  Shazam is bubbly and friendly and everything Spooky is not personality-wise, so it's kind of jarring that he gives their resident buzzkill a run for his money when it comes to keeping his secret identity, well, a secret.

There's a betting pool going around about Shazam's origins.  Most of his coworkers think he's an alien or a meta, but Hal's money is on some mystic crap like Diana.  He knows aliens, and Shazam doesn't ping the ring's radar like any alien he's ever come across in his time with the Corps.  Barry's powers have a similar sort of buzz to them, but it's still fundamentally different in a way that Hal can't quite place.

He's really powerful, though, whatever he is.  Maybe even on the same level as the Big Blue Boyscout himself.  Not to mention he's built like a brick shithouse.  Ring or no, Hal wouldn't want to go toe to toe with the big guy in a bare knuckle brawl.

Hal would give it his best shot, don't think for a second he wouldn't.  But it wouldn't be easy or fun.  Fighting someone who used to be a friend never is, and that's something he knows from experience.

Despite all his muscles and mojo, Shazam doesn't seem to particularly enjoy hurting people.  Sure, Hal's seen him turn monsters to dust with a flick of a wrist but he's also seen him apologize for threatening to drop a goon off a building.  Maybe he's just a nice guy, like Supes or Barry.  With his level of power, Hal sure hopes that's the case.  He doesn't want to see someone who can shoot lightning from his hands and shrug off bullets go rogue.

Besides, he likes the big dope.  It'd be a damn shame if they had to take him down.

"Hey GL," a cheerful voice chirps, "Enjoying the view?"  Speak of the devil.  Hal turns to see Shazam in all his red-suited glory looking out the window of the Watchtower with wide eyes.

"Eh," Hal shrugs, "Once you've actually been out there flying around, just looking isn't as impressive."

"Still, it's pretty cool," Shazam says wistfully, "Getting to see the stars like this.  Back home, you can barely see the moon with how much smog and light pollution we've got."  Hal raises an eyebrow.  He knew that the big guy operated mostly in Philly, but it hadn't occurred to him that he might actually live there.

A grin curls across his face as he imagines Shazam hunched in a crowded subway car.  He snorts, shaking his head.  

Shazam glances at him sideways, "What's so funny?"

Hal waves him off, "Nothing."  Shazam narrows his eyes but doesn't ask again.  Hal gets to his feet, stretching and wincing as he feels his back pop like bubble wrap.  Damn, he's getting old.  "Barry, Arthur, and I were thinking of getting a few drinks, wanna come with?  It'd be good for you and Arthur to get to know each other now that he's back on the surface part time."

He shakes his head, "Nah, I don't drink.  Besides, I gotta get home."

Hal tilts his head.  "Early morning?"

Shazam gives him this curious little smile, like he knows a hilarious secret, and says, "Something like that, yeah.  Good job out there today."  Then he makes for the zeta tube and is gone in a flash of light.

"You too," Hal says to the empty room, feeling like he just got pranked.

"So how are things in Atlantis going?" Barry asks Arthur through a mouthful of french fries.  Between his perpetual motor mouth and the food he's putting away like some sort of demented chipmunk, it ends up sounding more like, "Oh ow awr hins uh Alanis gohin?", but Arthur gets the jist of what the kid's saying.

"They're going," he says with a sigh.  "Things are still a fucking mess and I don't know jack shit about the monarchy, but between Mera and Vulko I'm starting to get a handle on things."  Politics, on the surface or underwater, have never been his thing.  There's a reason he avoided his birthright like the plague for so long.

Hal nods, grimacing sympathetically.  "Man, I hate monarchies.  Not that democracies are much better with the beaurecratic bullshit, but at least you don't hafta deal with bloodlines and titles and all that junk."

"Not to mention, the old man keeps getting on my ass about 'ettiquete' and talking like a king, whatever the fuck that means."  He downs a pint in a single swig.  "Man, it feels fucking great to swear as much as I damn please again," he says, smacking his lips.

"You gonna finish that?" Barry asks, already reaching for Hal's half-eaten burger.

"Knock yourself out," the Lantern replies.  With a crackle of lightning and the sudden scent of ozone, the burger is gone before Arthur can blink.  It still takes him by surprise sometimes, how goddamn fast Barry can be.  Hal just rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer.  "I'd tell you to slow down but I know for a fact you don't know what those words mean in that order."

Barry shrugs, "Superspeed means super-appetite dude.  Also means I can't get drunk."  He slumps in his seat, gazing longingly at Hal's beer.  "I miss alcohol," he says with a pout.

"I know you do, buddy."  Hal pats his shoulder comfortingly, but Arthur can tell he's trying not to laugh.  Then he addresses Arthur, "So what do you think of the new guy?"

"He's alright," Arthur says.  He'd been in Atlantis when Shazam joined up, so he hasn't had much of a chance to get to know him.  "Kinda dorky but I got no real complaints about him."

"You didn't notice anything, like, weird about him?" Hal asks, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Not really?  I barely know the guy," he says, confused.  "Why, you think he's dirty or something?"  A mole in the League could be a huge disaster.

Barry laughs.  "Oh man," he snorts, "This again?"

"I'm just saying, he's weird!" Hal says defensively.  "How come he knows what tiktok is but not how to file his taxes?"

"What's tiktok?" Arthur asks, not following at all.

They ignore him.  "Dude, he shoots lightning from his hands and you think it's weird that he doesn't know about taxes?" Barry asks incredulously.

"Supes is from space and he knows about taxes!" Hal retorts.

"Superman doesn't count because he was raised on earth and you know it," Barry insists, jabbing a finger in Hal's face.  "Maybe the guy is from some alternate dimension or something!"

"If he's from another dimension then how does he know about GTA?  Your argument makes no sense!" Hal throws up his hands.

Arthur groans, "So let me get this straight.  He's not a mole?  He's just weird?  That's what this is about?"

"Yes," Barry says.  "Because Hal is a paranoid idiot.  Like Batman but stupid."

"Take that back right now you sonuvabitch," Hal gasps with exaggerated offense.  "I may be stupid but I'm nothing like Spooky and you know it!"

"Okay," Arthur says, suddenly in desperate need of another drink, "I'll bite.  What is tiktok and why is it weird for Shazam to know about it but not know about taxes?"

Billy transforms back into himself midair and hits the ground with a tuck-and-roll move he's seen Wonder Woman do a couple times.  It's not super practical but it makes him feel badass so it's fine.

He climbs through the window of the bedroom he and Freddy share with the practiced ease of a master thief.  It's late, but one of the other kids will always cover for him if Victor and Rosa ask any questions.  He's starting to realize that this is what siblings do.

Freddy is already asleep, splayed out on his back with a comic book lying open on his chest.  Billy smiles and grabs the comic, setting it safely on the desk before pulling the blanket over Freddy.  He climbs into bed and drifts off, exhausted.

His sleep is anything but restful.

He opens his eyes to a greek-type building, a ruinscape of cracked marble and shattered columns.  Fog blankets the ground, so thick he can't see his own feet.

"Champion," a deep voice calls.  Billy looks around but all he can see is fog and ruins.  "You are not what I expected."

"Who are you?" he asks.

"A little girl sent to do a man's work, how curious," the voice continues like he hasn't even spoken.  His fists clench.

"I'm not a girl, asshole," he snarls.  "If you got something to say then come out and say it to my face!"

Laughter echoes all around, sinister and ice cold.  "We will meet soon enough, Champion."

Then he wakes up.

Shazam is late.  Like, later than Barry late.  And yeah, he's heard all the jokes a million times.  How can a guy with superspeed be late?  To which he says that ADHD is a bitch and his meds stopped working once he got his powers (curse you super-metabolism) and at least he's here, okay!

Which brings him back to his main point: Shazam is late.

Batman is looking even grumpier than usual, probably because he hates when his schedule gets derailed.  Barry knows for a fact that if he could see the guy's face there would be a big ol' vein pulsing in his forehead.  He snorts at the mental image and Batman glares at him.  He tries to school his expression into something appropriately chastised.  Hal is dozing, head resting on Barry's shoulder and snoring lightly.  Barry elbows him and he snorts and flails, blinking awake.

"Does anyone," Batman begins, clearly clenching his jaw, "Know where Shazam is?"  He's met with silence from the rest of the League.

Before Batman can pop a blood vessel, the sound of the zeta tube whirring to life echoes through the Watchtower and Shazam is there, tripping over his feet.  

"Sorry, so sorry I'm late!" he calls, "Freddy broke the alarm clock and I overslept- Sorry!"

Batman sighs.  "Now that we're all here, let's get started," he says with a pointed look at Shazam.

The big guy flushes, rubbing the back of his neck.  Now that Barry's really looking at him, he notices that he looks a little off.  Paler, with dark circles bruising under his eyes.  His smile, normally carefree, seems almost fake. 

"Wonder Woman," Batman nods to the Amazon. 

She steps forward.  "I have reason to believe that an ancient being known as the Truthseeker has reappeared in Greece.  My people thought it was a myth, but it has become clear that it is very real."

"Isn't truth seeking, like, a good thing though?" Barry asks.

Diana shakes her head, "No.  Truthseeker sees no nuance.  He warps anything that could be construed as a lie into a punishable offense.  For example, all of us would be at risk because of our secret identities.  So would someone who changed their name for any reason."

Shazam makes a noise in the back of his throat.  "So, what, like trans people?" he asks, and there's an odd strangled note in his voice that almost sounds like panic. 

Batman gives him a look, "Yes, Shazam."

"Now hang on," Clark says, "Trans folks aren't liars for changing their names.  If anything, they're living more authentically because of it."

"Of course not!" Shazam says, sounding offended, "My, uh, nephew is trans!  Yeah, um, Bill's his name!  So, that's just my what I jumped to."

"You have family?" Clark asks, turning to Shazam.

"Oh yeah," Shazam says, "I've got a whole bunch of siblings."  He's smiling fondly as he says it, like just the thought of them makes him happy.

A pang of jealousy makes Barry's chest ache.  He'd always wanted a little brother or sister as a kid, but any chance of that happening had died with his mother.  Hal, always perceptive of when he's too in his own head for his own good, squeezes his hand gently three times; it's their own private code, a way of saying I love you and you're not alone.  Barry squeezes back. 

Batman clears his throat.  "Anyone who has changed their name or used an alias at any point during their life would be at risk," he says. 

"What about, like, nicknames?" Shazam asks, raising his hand like a kid. "Would that be-"

"Enough," Batman cuts him off.  Then he looks to Diana.

"According to legend, Truthseeker's power comes from an amulet," Diana continues.

"Our mission is to find and destroy the amulet before Truthseeker can wreak havoc on Greece and the rest of the world.  We leave in ten minutes."

The mission was going great until the gargoyles showed up.

They aren't actually gargoyles, Billy knows, but he's calling them that because he doesn't know their actual name.  And anyways it doesn't matter what he calls them because they're still trying to eat his face.

He tumbles through the air, grappling the snarling gargoyle.  He already has scratches from the thing's fangs (fucking magic) and he's really not interested in having his throat ripped out. 

"Motherfucker," he hisses as it latches onto his arm.  He tries not to swear as Shazam, setting a good example and all that jazz, but that really hurt.

Of course, Truthseeker chooses that moment to stop surveying the battle and start being an annoying asshole. 

"Champion," he says, floating down to watch Billy try to shake the gargoyle off his arm, "Have you satisfied your appetite for pain yet?"

Billy ignores him. 

"A little girl hiding inside a man," Truthseeker continues, "A liar through and through."

With an enraged snarl, Billy finally dislodges the gargoyle and lunges for Truthseeker.  The man catches his fist with ease, gripping his wrist and heaving him around to throw him through the air like a frisbee.  His head spins as he cartwheels through the air.  Before he can get his bearings, Truthseeker is there and has him by the throat.

"Reveal yourself, Champion," he says, "There is no need for you to die."

To emphasize the unspoken threat, he summons a glowing sword from out of thin air.  Billy swallows but keeps his mouth shut tight.  Fuck this guy.

Truthseeker tilts his head.  "Defiant to the end," he whispers, then sinks the sword into Billy's gut.

Lightning cracks through the air and then he's falling. 

Chapter Text

Billy slams into the ground and all he knows is pain.

He's no stranger to pain, in fact you could say that pain and him are old friends by now, but this pain is unlike anything he's every experienced.  It's all-consuming and immobilizing and he can't breathe because his torso is on fire.

He wheezes, opening his eyes even as his head feels like it's being split open with a migraine.  He's back in his regular body and that's really fucking bad for a number of reasons but especially because the League can't find out who he really is.  He opens his mouth to shout the magic word but when he tries to speak his body is wracked with pain.

Pain from the giant fucking sword sticking out of his gut. 

"Fu-uck," he chokes out, tasting blood, "Oh christ."  He tries to get a better look at the wound and almost passed out from the pain.  His head thunks against the ground with a painful thud and he blinks back tears, trying to get his bearings. 

Could this day suck more balls?

Then, because if there's one thing Billy Batson knows it's that the universe has it out for him, a flash of lime green enters his field of vision as Hal Jordan touches down at the edge of the crater he made when he slammed into the ground.

A strange sort of calm washes over Billy as he realizes that his goose is well and truly goddamn cooked. 

Hal is fending off three monsters when lightning splits the sky.  He guns down the creatures with his rifle construct and makes for the source of the lightning.  Shazam only ever pulls out the light show like this when he's in a tight spot, so Hal figures he better lend the big guy a hand.

When he lands at the edge of the crater, he expects to find Shazam duking it out with some monsters.  Instead, he sees something that makes him freeze in shock.

It's a kid.  A kid with a glowing sword sticking out of his gut.

"Well shit," Hal says faintly, "Uh."  He looks around for someone more qualified but his coworkers are all busy with their own monster fighting. 

He slides down into the crater.  Immediately, the smell of ozone assaults his nose.  It's only then that something clicks in his brain and he stares at the kid. 

No way.  No fucking way. 

"Shazam?" he asks the kid, "Buddy is that you?"

The kid, Shazam apparently and god that's fucked up, groans in pain.  Hal kneels down beside him, feeling useless.

"You're gonna be okay," he says, feeling like a liar because hey, bigass glowing sword, but it's the thought that counts.

"Don't tell?" Shazam asks, big blue eyes glistening with tears.

Hal stares at him.  "You've been impaled and you're worried about your secret i.d.?" he asks incredulously.  "You're a literal child, you shouldn't even be here!"

"Fuck you," Shazam slurs.  "I'm fifteen and a half, I can do what I want."

Hal laughs hysterically, "There!  See, buddy, adults don't measure in years and a half so you're proving my point!"

Shazam grumbles, eyes losing focus.  Shit, he probably has a concussion.  Hal snaps his fingers.  "Hey!  No sleeping, mister mature teenager!  You gotta stay awake."

"But it hurts," he whines and god, he sounds so young that Hal's heart aches with it.  How did this even happen; how did someone so young end up with these powers?

"Ring," Hal says, "Scan the kid and tell me how bad he's fucked up."

"M'not a kid," the kid slurs. 

"Sure you aren't," Hal says distractedly.

Green light washes over Shazam as the ring scans him.

{Scan complete.  Three broken ribs being exacerbated by a compression device, a sprained wrist, a concussion, and major internal and external injuries resulting from a stab wound to the abdomen.}

Hal whistles.  "Jesus christ, kid.  Just- We're just going to keep that in there for now," he says, patting the kid's shoulder awkwardly.  He's no doctor but he at least knows that much.  Then a thought occurs to him.  "Can you be the big guy again?"

Shazam blinks at him.  "Why?"

"Well isn't he like pretty much indestructible?"  Hal's grasping at straws here. 

The kid screws up his face and croaks, "SHAZAM!"

What happens next is going to haunt Hal for a good long while. 

The sword starts flashing and pulsating with light.  Shazam's back arches as he screams in pain, limbs thrashing like he's having a seizure and his eyes are rolled back so that all Hal can see are the whites.  Tears are streaming down his face and the wound is smoking.

"Shit!" he hisses, grabbing the kids arms and trying to pin him down so he doesn't hurt himself further.

Shazam goes limp, thankfully, but his breathing is wheezy and erratic.  His eyes are unfocused and he struggles weakly against Hal's hold.

"Stop- Don't," he pleads, voice cracking with fear.  He's looking at Hal but the Lantern gets the sense that he's seeing someone else.  "Please don't."

It pings at something that makes his stomach twist, the way the kid's begging, but he's not lucid enough for Hal to ask questions.  Not to mention that the light show from the sword has attracted more monsters. 

Hal gets to his feet.  "Stay down Shazam," he tells the kid, "I'll handle these freaks."

"Wait, no, I can help!" Shazam protests weakly.

Doing his best Spooky impression, Hal glares at him and growls, "Stay.  Down."

It must be convincing, because the kid groans in annoyance (or maybe pain) but doesn't argue.

Hal gives him one last lingering look before getting to work. 

Billy is having the worst possible day, and considering how his life has gone up to this point that's saying something.  He knows that he secret identity is blown, meaning he's probably- no definitely out of the League.  If he survives that long.  And him not seeing tomorrow is looking like a real possibility because he's got a goddamn sword sticking out of his gut.

Hal is fending off a whole mess of gargoyles, but Billy can tell that he's struggling.  He needs help or they're going to overwhelm him.  He needs Shazam.  Except he can't transform.  So all Hal has is scrawny, useless Billy Batson.

Billy and the sword in his gut.  It's a bad idea.  Absolutely insane.  He can practically hear Freddy yelling at him, but he's got no choice.

He takes a deep breath, binder pressing uncomfortably against his broken ribs.  He inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth.  Then he pulls the sword out of his stomach.

His vision goes spotty with pain and he almost blacks out because fucking hell that hurt.  But it doesn't matter how much pain he's in because Hal is pinned by some gargoyles and his shield construct is starting to crack.

So he opens his mouth and yells, "SHAZAM!"

Lightning splits the sky but he still doesn't transform.  Instead, the sword glows again and seems to drink it up greedily.  The heat is almost unbearable but Billy pushes on and heaves himself to his feet, pointing the blade up to direct the lightning at where Hal is pinned down.  It's a risky move but it's better than letting his friend get torn apart.  Plus, he knows from experience that magic is the only thing that can kill these suckers.

It works.  The gargoyles get blasted to dust and Hal is left slightly singed but otherwise perfectly fine.  He stares at Billy in what looks like horror.

Rude.  Billy flips him off.  Then his knees give out and he collapses.

Barry tosses the amulet to Diana, who wraps her lasso around the around it and cuts it in half like a knife through butter.  All around them, the stone monsters turn to dust.  Truthseeker turns from a buff a-hole to a withered mummy in a nonzero amount of time, going limp in Clark's arms.  Satisfied with a job well done, Barry speeds off to compare his monster body count with Hal's.  It's what they do after big fights; they compare and whoever has less buys the post-battle drinks.  It makes it easier to cope when things get heavy to have a ritual to latch on to.

He finds Hal in the center of a giant crater, cradling a small body in his arms.  Barry's heart stops as his stomach drops out.  They were in the middle of a dig site in the middle of nowhere, there shouldn't be any people around!

Hal meets his gaze and even with the white lenses of his mask hiding his eyes he looks haunted.  Blood stands out against the green of his suit like some awful Christmas decoration.  Barry is by is side in less than a second.

It's even worse up close.  The kid in Hal's arms is young, maybe sixteen at most, with lingering traces of baby fat in his cheeks.  The blood, which he'd originally thought was Hal's, is coming from a deep puncture wound to the kid's stomach and there's more in his hair.  His left wrist is bruised and swollen like it's been broken and he's got a split lip.  He's skinny, gangly like Barry used to be before he hit his growth spurt, and he looks so tiny in Hal's arms that it physically hurts seeing him broken and bruised.

"How did he even get here?" Barry asks, aghast. 

Hal licks his lips and swallows, adam's apple bobbing.  "About that-"

Clark touches down beside him.  "What happened to him?" he asks, looking heartbroken.  He looks around, cocking his head like he's listening for something.  "Where's Shazam?"

Hal takes a deep breath.  "He's right here," he says, nodding at the kid in his arms. 

Chapter Text

Billy wakes up in bed.  His entire body aches but it's a dull, muted ache that means he's on some pretty heavy painkillers.  What the hell did he do yesterday?

Someone is talking.  He opens his eyes and groans as the bright lights make his head throb with pain.

"Kid?" someone asks, sounding panicked and hopeful all at once.  "Holy shit you aren't dead, thank christ.  Bats!  The kid's awake!"

He grumbles, "Fuck off, Freddy."  Truth be told the voice doesn't sound much like his brother but he can't imagine it being anyone else. 

"Shazam," a voice says, stern and no-nonsense and suddenly Billy is wide awake because that's Batman's voice.  

Oh he is so fucked isn't he?

He gulps, "Yes boss?"  Just as he suspected, he's no longer powered up.  He groans again, this time in annoyance, and closes his eyes.

"Hn," Batman says, sounding peeved.

"So it's really him then," Wonder Woman says.  He cracks his eye open and immediately regrets it because not only is his migraine getting worse but everyone except Auqaman and Vic are here.

"Looks like it," Superman says.  His lips are pressed in a thin line and he sounds pissed.  Adressing Billy, he says, "Young man, do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"Clark," Wonder Woman says softly.

"No, Diana, the kid lied to us!" Superman snaps.  Against his will, Billy flinches at the tone.  Superman freezes, face crumpling.  "Shoot," he mutters to himself.  He clears his throat.  "Sorry son."

His tone is gentle, bordering on condescending, and Billy bristles, "I'm not your son."

Superman looks taken aback.  "Now wait a minute-"

"No," Billy snaps, "No, you don't get to act all high and mighty with me.  You said I was a good hero, that you admired what I was doing in Philly.  You don't get to start pulling the age bullshit now that you know I'm a teenager!"  His torso is on fire and he knows he sounds like a girl when he gets pissy but he's angry and hurting and he feels super exposed in just a hospital gown and boxers.  His stomach drops suddenly.  "Where the fuck are my clothes?"

Flash looks sheepish, "They were covered in blood dude."

His entire body feels cold.  "You took them off me while I was passed out?"  He's not wearing his binder and for some reason realizing that fact makes it harder to breathe rather than easier.

"We had to bandage your wounds," Batman says.

He's hyperventillating.  "How do I know you didn't mess with me while I was out, huh?  How do I know you didn't touch me?"  If he was in his right mind he'd realize that he's giving a lot of shit away but right now he feels ten years old and terrified again.

Superman recoils like Billy's slapped him.  "Excuse me?" he asks.

"How do I know you didn't-" he can't even finish the sentence his chest is so tight.  His vision is going blurry.  Someone's hand is on his shoulder.  He yanks himself out of their grip, "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Little brother," a feminine voice says kindly, "I swear to you, no one touched you except to heal you."

"Shit," someone else says softly and with feeling, "Shit, I'm gonna kill someone."

"Stand down Lantern," a stern voice says.

Billy gasps, sucking in air and clenching his fists in the sheets.  He's crying now and this sucks so much.

"Kid, you gotta breathe okay," someone says, sounding heartbroken, "Fuck, Diana, you gotta get him to calm down or he's gonna pass out again!"

"Little brother," says the kind voice again, "You are safe, I promise.  Please calm yourself."

He inhales shakily, trying to calm down.  In and out, like Rosa showed him.  In and out.  His chest loosens and his vision starts to clear.  He slumps against the pillow, pressing the heals of his hands against his eyes.  "Fuck," he chokes out.

Not knowing what else to do, the League leaves Shazam alone with Diana.  Hal is fuming, green light sparking off him like lightning.  Barry can't say he's feeling much better after everything that's gone down today.  Shazam is a kid.  A kid who's pretty traumatized going by the outburst in the medbay.  Supes is sitting with his head in his hands, Batman at his shoulder in silent camraderie.  Barry is running laps around the observation deck because if he stands still he's going to vibrate out of his skin.  Hal joins him, staring out the window with his arms crossed in silent anger.

Eventually, Diana comes out of the medbay and they gather in the meeting room.  Bats has called an emergency meeting; they're just waiting on Arthur and Vic.  No one says anything.  Barry can see his own grim mood reflected back at him in his friend's faces.  This is royally screwed up.

Superman clears his throat.  "I think I should start by saying that Shazam obviously can't continue as a member of the League."  As much as he hates to admit it, Barry agrees.  They can't have a kid on the League, not when he's barely older than Wally and already traumatized.

The sound of the zeta tube activating is the only response he gets.  Vic and Arthur hurry through, looking harried.  Barry feels his stomach sink.  Now that they're all here, it means they have to talk about it.

"Where's the fire?" Arthur jokes, but it falls flat because of how clearly worried he looks.

"It's about Shazam," Bats says gruffly.

"Where is he?" Vic asks, scanning the room.  His red eye flares, "Is he okay?"

"He's injured."

Arthur's eyes widen, "I thought the big guy was indestructable.

"He's vulnerable to magic," Bats explains.

"There was a magic sword," Barry chimes in.  "He got stabbed."

"Shit," Arthur says.  "He in there?" he asks, nodding towards the medbay.  Vic is already striding over to the door.

"Yeah, but," Barry says, zipping around in front of him before he can enter, "We got some stuff we gotta talk about first."

"Shazam's a fucking kid," Hal grits out, the first thing he's said since they walked out of the medbay.

Arthur spins around, "What?  You've gotta be joking."  He searches their faces like he's waiting for them to laugh and reassure him.  Vic looks at Barry and he shakes his head grimly.  Arthur's face falls.  "What the hell people?!" he snaps.

"How bad is it?" Vic asks.

"He's awake," Batman says.

"How old is he?"

Bats sighs, "He's a young teenager.  It's some sort of transformation ability."

"Fifteen," Hal says bitterly, "He said he was fifteen."

"And a half," Shazam corrects.  They all look up.  The kid is up, leaning heavily on the doorframe with hunched shoulders.  His posture is all defense and anger.  Barry's heart breaks.

"Christ," Arthur says.  "You weren't kidding, he's tiny."

"Fuck you," Shazam snaps.  His eyes flick to Vic, "Hey man."

"Billy?" Vic asks, sounding flabbergasted.  "You're Shazam?"

"Surprise?" Billy, apparently, says bitterly.

"You guys know each other?" Barry asks, confused.

"I dated his sister for a bit, before" Vic explains, gesturing to his robot half, "Mary, I told you about her, she's his older sister."  Barry remembers belatedly that Vic is only twenty, barely more than a kid himself.  Vic looks down at Billy, "Does Mary know?  Do Rosa and Victor?"

Billy scowls, "They don't.  Mary does."

"And she's cool with it?" he asks incredulously.

Billy shrugs, "It's whatever."

Voice high and strangled, Barry says, "I have several questions."

"I second that," Clark says.

Billy groans.  "Okay, so it all started with a wizard."

Chapter Text

Billy's been in a lot of uncomfortable situations, but being escorted home by Superman and the Flash might just take the cake.  The man who had personally told him he respected him and considered him an equal is now watching him with disappointment etched across his features and arms folded.  It makes him feel both ten inches tall and really pissed off.  He takes solace in the fact that Flash looks as uncomfortable as he feels right now.

"You really don't have to do this," he mutters as the man knocks on the front door of his house, "I'm fine."

"One second!" Rosa calls from inside and Billy blanches.  This was not how he planned on this going down.  Uneven footsteps can be heard approaching the door and he relaxes a fraction.  At least if Freddy's the one answering then they can do damage control before everything gets out of hand too quickly.

The door opens and Freddy squeaks in surprise, eyes huge as he searches Billy's face for answers.  Billy shrugs miserably.

"Freddy, who is it?" Rosa calls from the kitchen.

"Uh," Freddy says and Billy shakes his head frantically, mouthing lie!  Freddy makes an incredulous face at him and gestures wildly.  "It's, um," his voice cracks, "It's nothing!  Just some guys and Billy!"

Billy groans, head in his hands.

"Billy?"  Rosa rushes out of the kitchen.  "Where have you been?" she asks, hand over her heart.  He can see the moment she notices the two superheroes behind him.  She stops short, looking almost as shocked as Freddy.  To her credit, she recovers quickly, shepherding him inside.

He opens his mouth to make some excuse but what comes out is, "I'm sorry."

"Victor!" Rosa calls.  That's right, it's Saturday so everyone's home.  "Some nice men brought Billy home."  Her face is stern, but there's concern shining through in her eyes like sunshine from behind a stormcloud.  Guilt pools in his stomach as he realizes just how exhausted she looks.

I did that, he thinks, I made her feel like this.

Rosa turns to him, fussing over his split lip and splinted wrist, "Billy, what happened?"  Glancing at Superman and Flash, she whispers, "Did they do this?"

"No Rosa," he mumbles.  He gets the sense that if his answer had been yes that she would've tried to fight them herself.  The thought of five foot nothing Rosa Vasquez going toe to toe with Superman makes him smile slightly, but it fades as the reality of the situation really sets in.

"Sit down," she insists, ushering him over to the couch.  "Let me get the first aid kit.  You two," she glares at the superheroes, "Stay here.  I want to talk to you after I make sure my son is alright."  Billy sits down on the couch, slouching as if by doing so he can make himself disappear.

"Yes ma'am," Flash says.

Heavy footsteps signal Victor coming downstairs.  He's got sparkly hairclips on either side of his face and his hair, which is normally back in a bun, is braided messily; Billy recognizes Darla's handiwork.

"Billy," he says, sounding disappointed and worried at the same time.  Then he notices Flash and Superman and he asks incredulously, "Is this a prank?"  He looks at Freddy, "Am I being pranked right now?"

"Billy!  You're home!"  Darla pounds down the stairs and slams into him with the force of a hurricane.  There's a reason she got the Speed of Mercury.  Billy wheezes, wincing as his stomach lights up with pain.  Darla pulls back and her eyes go wide, "You're hurt!"  Her small hand cups his cheek and her eyes are shiny.  "What happened?!"

"I'm okay Dee," he says, because the last thing he needs right now is to make Darla cry.  He's already in deep shit as it is.

More footsteps are heading towards the living room.  Great.  Might as well let everyone witness his untimely demise via a pissed off Rosa and Victor.

"Dude," Eugene says, headset around his neck which means he actually paused in the middle of playing a game to come in here.  "You are so grounded."

"I am aware," he says through gritted teeth.  Mary whacks Eugene lightly on the arm, silently looking him over with pursed lips.  He gives her a smile, trying to silently communicate that, really, he's completely fine and there's no need to worry.

Pedro is staring at Superman and Flash with wide eyes.  Billy thinks he might be blushing.

Flash turns to Billy, "You weren't kidding about having a bunch of siblings."

Freddy blinks, "He talks about us?"

"Freddy," Billy hisses.

Flash swivels, looking at Freddy, "Ooh, so your the one who broke the alarm clock."

Freddy looks betrayed.  "Literally why would you tell them that?" he whines, flopping down on the couch next to him.  "I'm never going to emotionally recover from this."

Rosa returns with the first aid kit.  Victor looks at her in askance.  "Do we know these people?" he asks.

"They brought Billy home," she tells him, walking over to inspect Billy's face.  He hisses as she dabs at his face with an alcohol wipe.  "Are you hurt anywhere else, mijo?"

"I'm okay," he says, a non-answer.

"What was our son doing with the Justice people?" Victor asks.  Billy feels his heart twist at our son.

"It's the Justice League dad," Freddy corrects.

"Alright then, the Justice League," Victor repeats.

"He got stabbed," Flash interjects.  "With a magic sword."

"You WHAT?" Rosa asks, gripping his face.

"Holy shit dude!" Freddy turns to him, eyes huge.  "I thought, y'know," he makes a gesture with his hands that Billy takes to mean you're invincible.

"Oh no," Darla says.  She wriggles up onto the couch next to him, eyes huge and lip wobbling, "Are you gonna die?  Mom, is Billy gonna die?"

"I'm fine," he insists.  "They patched me up.  It's no big deal."  He squeezes Darla against him, ignoring the pain in his stomach, "I'm not dying, Dee."

"Getting stabbed is definitely a big deal," Victor argues.

Rosa mutters something under her breath in Spanish that Billy would bet five bucks is a cuss word.  "You," she turns to Superman and Flash, pointing at them threateningly.  "You let this happen!"  Victor crosses his arms, looking none too pleased.

"Your son," Superman begins, "Has not been telling you the truth."  Freddy sits up like he's been hit by, well, lightning.  The rest of his siblings react similarly.  He buries his face in his hands.

"Excuse me?" Rosa says defensively.

"Billy is Shazam," Flash adds, "The Philly guy.  With the lightning."  He makes a sort of explosion motion with his hands.

Victor laughs, slightly strangled.  Rosa looks flabbergasted.  "That's ridiculous.  Shazam is a middle-aged man," she argues.

"Yeah.  Totally ridiculous," Freddy says, voice all high and pitchy like it gets when he's lying about something.

Rosa raises an eyebrow and Billy sighs.  Might as well.  "It's not a joke," he mumbles.

"Dude," Freddy says.  "Are we really doing this now?"

Rosa gives him a sharp look.  With a wince he gets to his feet, backing away from everyone.  "SHAZAM," he says, and lightning strikes the house.  Before the smoke can clear, five other voices chime in and lightning strikes again.

Rosa Vasquez has seen many things in her life, but this might just be the craziest.  Her children, superheroes.  It's every mother's worst nightmare.  Billy stands so very tall but still sheepish, shoulders hunched and biting his lip.  The rest of the kids are all dressed in different colored variations on his costume and they are all grown up.

"I'm glad I don't hafta lie anymore!" Darla beams, zipping around the living room at speeds too fast for her eyes to follow.

"Oh god," one of the super men who brought Billy home says faintly, "There's more of them."

She grips Victor's arm, feeling faint.  "How- how long?" she asks.

"Since a bit after I got here," Billy says.

"Tell her about the wizard," Freddy, who's floating above the ground, insists.

"Wizard?" Victor asks.

"There was a wizard," Billy confirms.  "He gave me superpowers."

"Where is this wizard?" Rosa asks.  She wants to have a conversation with whoever thought it was a smart idea to give a little boy superpowers.

"Um," Billy says, "He's dead now.  I think."

"You think?" Superman says.

Billy shrugs, "Eh, he turned to dust in front of me after giving me his, like, life force or something so probably yeah."

"Jesus christ," Victor says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  Then his brows pinch together and he asks, "Wait, is this why the electrical is all messed up?"

"All of you, change back.  We will talk about this as a family later," she says, suddenly terribly exhausted.  Her children are superheroes.

They all shout that word again, "SHAZAM!" and lightning hits their house.  She thinks about how many freak lightning strikes there have been lately and her heart twists.  She remembers all the times she's seen them on the news and never given it a second thought because, well, they were adults after all.  Except they aren't.  They're her babies and they're in danger regularly.

She sits down heavily on the couch.

"Are you guys gonna kick me out?" Billy asks, voice small.

She looks up at him, surprised.  Her heart breaks because he looks so young and so scared.  "Of course not, mi amor.  This is your home."

"Why would we kick you out?" Victor asks.   

He sniffles, "Cause I messed up."

Victor puts his hand on her shoulder and she meets his eyes; she sees the same fear and heartbreak she feels reflected back at her.  "Like Rosa said, this is your home kiddo."  He rounds the couch and puts a hand on Billy's shoulder.  "It doesn't matter what you do, you'll always have a place here."

Billy scrubs at his eyes.  "Okay," he says roughly.

"That being said, you are definitely grounded," Victor continues.  "All of you," he turns, pointing at each of their children mock-threatening, "Dish duty until you're fifty-five."

There's an assortment of groans and complaints, but the children seem more at ease.

Superman clears his throat.  "Mr. and Mrs. Vasquez," he says, "We'd like to talk to you privately."

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Rosa says, pursing her lips.

"C'mon," Victor says, "Let's talk in the kitchen."

Darla and Eugene sit with their ears pressed to the kitchen door, eavesdropping as Superman and the Flash (!!!) talk to their parents.  Freddy, however, is watching Billy.  He looks tired and, for lack of a better term, haunted.

Freddy elbows Billy, trying to get him out of his own head, and he hisses in pain and doubles over.  "Shit," Freddy mutters, hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry man."

"It's fine," Billy grits out, face tight with pain.  Freddy feels awful.

"You need anything?" he asks.  Billy shakes his head, lips pressed together in a thin line.  Not sure what else to do, he rubs his back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.

Abruptly, Darla makes a noise of confusion.  "Mary, what's sex-u-al abuse?" she asks, sounding the word out. 

It's like all the air has been sucked from the room.  Unable to stop himself, Freddy looks at Billy.  His brother has gone gray and he's gripping the couch cushions so hard his knuckles are white.

Mary makes a noise in the back of her throat, "Oh god."  It's clear from the way she's looking at him and Billy that she caught his glance at their brother and the wheels in her head have turned to the obvious conclusion: they're talking about Billy.  "Darla get away from the door right now," she says. 

"But I wanna hear what the superheroes are saying-"

"Now, Darla," Mary cuts her off.  "You too Eugene."

Eugene is glancing between Billy and Mary, eyes narrowed.  Then something seems to click and he gasps, "Oh shit," eyes going wide.

"Eugene," Mary snaps. 

"Mary?" Pedro asks, sounding lost.  "You don't mean- Billy?"  He turns to them, "No way."

Billy is silent and still as a statue, staring off into space.  His jaw jumps with tension and for a moment no one speaks.

"Billy," Mary says at last, breaking the silence.  It's just his name, but it sets him off all the same.

Billy flies to his feet, shoulders tense and eyes wild.  He stumbles, pressing a hand to his gut, and then he's making for the front door.

"Dude, calm down," Freddy says.  He heaves himself up and grabs for his wrist because there's absolutely no goddamn way he's letting Billy run off after he got freaking stabbed.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Billy snarls, recoiling bodily and yanking his hand out of Freddy's grip.

The motion knocks him off balance and he topples over, bad leg twisting underneath him as he goes down.  Pain flares, so sharp it knocks the wind out of him.

"Freddy!" Mary is moving towards him but Pedro is already at his side, helping him to his feet.  His leg twinges, more painful than usual, letting Freddy know that the fall probably is going to have him out of commission for a good few days.

Billy looks at him with eyes wide and horrified.  "I'm sorry- I didn't mean," he babbles, "Fuck, Freddy I wouldn't-"

"It's okay," Freddy says, waving a hand dismissively, "You didn't mean to."  He takes a step forward, leaning on Pedro.  "Man, you're okay.  Everything's gonna be okay, remember how I told you?"

Billy swallows, throat bobbing.  "I'm sorry," he chokes out.

"I told you, we're good," he repeats, "No harm no foul.  Just come sit down and we can talk about it, okay?"

Billy shifts from foot to foot, "I-"

Several things happen at once.

Superman chooses right this second to come bursting through the kitchen door, a frantic look on his face.  "I'm so sorry," he's saying over his shoulder to Rosa, "I didn't realize they were listening in."

Billy skitters back like a spooked horse.

A car backfires.

Billy runs out the front door and lightning strikes. 

Chapter Text

"Billy!" Freddy shouts, hobbling after him and cursing his bad leg.

"Dios mio," Rosa says.  Her voice is rough like she's been crying, which makes Freddy's stomach twist because he hates seeing his mom upset.

A burst of wind rushes past them, the Flash, then back into the house.  The speedster shakes his head.  "He's gone."

Superman takes a step forward, "I'll bring him home."  Freddy tenses, suddenly ridiculously angry at the man who up until today was his hero.

"No," he snaps, whirling around with a wince, "You won't.  I'll go get Billy."

"Son-"

"No, you listen to me!  You are the last person my brother wants to see right now and I can't say I blame him because this was the dumbest possible way of going about dealing with the whole," he waves his hand vaguely, "situation!  Not to mention, bringing up the abuse shit behind his back!  God, are you an idiot or just an asshole?"

"Freddy!" Rosa chastises, but he doesn't particularly care that he's being rude to one of the most powerful people in the world because he upset his brother.

"You'll only make things worse, so just stay here and keep your mouth shut so you don't make anyone else have a freaking panic attack!  SHAZAM!"  Lightning strikes him and by the time the smoke has cleared he's out of the house and shooting skyward, looking for a speck of red on the horizon.  He doesn't see anything and for a moment he starts to panic because what if he can't find Billy?  What then?

Lightning splits the cloudless mid-afternoon sky and it hits him.  He knows exactly where Billy is.

When he arrives on the roof of Marilyn Batson's appartment complex, it takes him a minute to find his brother.  When he does find him, his heart breaks.  Billy's curled up in a tight ball with his hands protecting his head like he's waiting to be hit.

"SHAZAM!"  Instantly the pain in his leg returns full-force but Freddy ignores it, hobbling over to Billy.  "Hey man," he says softly.  Billy shudders, curling up tighter and clutching his hair.  Easing himself to the ground, Freddy clears his throat and taps a finger on his shoulder as quickly as he can.  Billy flinches.  Definitely no touching, got it; he retracts his hand.  He tries for a joke, "You gonna come out of there or what?" but it falls flat.

Billy mumbles something.

"What?" Freddy asks.

"I said I didn't want anyone to know!" Billy snaps, uncurling and smacking his open palm on the concrete.  "I didn't want them to fucking know!"

"I know dude," he says.  Billy hadn't even wanted to tell him but he'd pushed and pushed after a nightmare and Billy had caved.  They sat on the back steps as Billy spilled his secret and Freddy, well, he'd never wanted to kill anyone before but he wants to kill that nameless man from Billy's nightmares.

"It's not fair!" Billy snarls, smacking his palm against the pavement again.  "Why does he get to tell me what to do just cause he's older?  We kicked Sivana's ass no problem!"

"Yeah we did," Freddy agrees.  He's not really sure what to do in this situation.  Billy doesn't like to talk about his problems, never has.  Freddy, well, he's always talked too much.  That's why they work so well; they balance each other out.  But now the words are sticking in his throat and Billy is freaked out enough to actually start talking so they're in uncharted territory here.

"It's not like that's the only time someone tried to mess with me either," Billy continues and Freddy's blood is ice water.  "Hell, I'm a trans guy who lived on the streets; of course there were creeps who saw me as an easy target."

"Yeah?" Freddy says, voice cracking.  Billy isn't looking at him.  "Did, uh-" he can't get the words out, "They didn't, um, like succeed or whatever?"  He can't make himself ask in so many words but the question hangs in the air all the same.  Were you ever full-on raped?

"No," Billy says with a bitter smile.  "Couple people tried, but I got away before anything really bad happened.  Stabbed one guy in the dick, actually."

That gets a surpised laugh out of Freddy, "Holy shit!"

"He's not going to be doing anything with anyone anymore," Billy says, sounding proud.

"Fuck that guy," Freddy says decisively.

"God, I need a smoke," Billy groans.  He pats his non-existant pockets uselessly, but he's not wearing the clothes he left in yesterday morning.  Instead, he's wearing flannel pj pants and a Central University t-shirt that keeps slipping off his shoulder.  The outfit makes him look a lot younger than he is.

"I'll get you some," Freddy says impulsively.

"Really?" Billy asks skeptically, which is fair.  He's been trying to get him to kick the habit ever since he found out about it.  Heroes don't smoke and besides the last thing Billy needs is to get, like, lung cancer or something.  But it's been a long day and Freddy knows that quitting cold-turkey isn't the way to go from his research.

"Yeah, man.  You've had a shit day, so I'll let it go this once," he says.  "But after this you're quitting, I swear."

"Thanks," Billy mutters.

"I'll be right back," he tells him, then shazams it up and heads to the nearest liquor store.  He's sweating the entire time he makes the purchase, sure he's about to get caught, but no one calls him out and in no time at all he's back on the rooftop.

Wordlessly, he hands Billy the carton and the lighter he keeps in his bag (you never know when you might need to start a fire!) and tries not to feel too guilty about enabling his brother as Billy lights up and sighs with relief.  For a while, neither of them speak as Billy goes through two cigarettes all the way down to the filter.  Freddy knows they're both going to smell like cigarettes when they get back but really that's the least of their problems at the moment.

"I'm gonna call the 'rents," he says suddenly, guilty he didn't think of it earlier.  "They're worried dude."

"Fine," Billy mutters.

Swallowing, he clicks on Rosa's contact.  She picks up almost as soon as his finger leaves the call button.  "Hey mom," he says sheepishly.

"Freddy!  Is Billy with you?"

"Yeah," he says.  "He's okay," he adds before she can ask.  Billy glances at him, posture suddenly tense and defensive as he fiddles with the cigarette butt.

"Hand me to him please," she says, "I want to speak to him."

Freddy holds out the phone to Billy, who looks at like it's a poisonous snake that's going to bite him.  "Take it," he hisses, waving the phone at him, "She wants to talk to you."

Throat bobbing, Billy takes the phone.

Chapter Text

Freddy brings him home this time.  Freddy, who bought him cigarettes even though he hates that he smokes because he had a shitty day.  Freddy, who stays up half the night chattering about which superhero could fight who when he can't bear to fall asleep because he knows the nightmares will be worse than the sleep deprivation.  Freddy, who helps him study for every test and doesn't make him feel stupid for not knowing that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell even though everybody fucking knows that but he doesn't because his schooling is spotty at best.  Freddy, who doesn't look at him like he's broken.

Freddy, who's his brother and best friend.

They change back and the front door is already opening and Billy doesn't want to deal with this, he really doesn't.  He just wants to go inside and sleep until the world ends because he's exhausted.  It's Rosa, rushing out the door and down the driveway and bundling him up in her arms like he's a little kid and not a fucking screw up teenager.  He buries his face in her shoulder and tries desperately not to cry.  He hates crying.  But something in him just snaps, when Rosa wraps him up in her arms.  He feels safe, and he thinks he has no right to that safety anymore.  Not when he lied to her and Victor.

Not when he's dirty and fucked up and ruined beyond repair.  Not when he's burned every bridge he's ever set foot on simply by virtue of being himself.

So he sobs into her shoulder and clings like a kid.  He gets snot in her hair and he knows he's going to feel bad about that later but right now he can't bring himself to care because Rosa is safe and warm and for better or worse she's here and she's not leaving or making him leave.  She wants him to stay despite everything and he quite honestly doesn't know what to do with that.

Rosa strokes his hair, whispering something in Spanish.  He isn't sure what exactly she's saying but it sounds comforting enough.  He takes a deep shuddering breath and pulls back, ready to face the music. 

Superman walks up to him, looking like a kicked puppy.  "Listen, Billy," he begins, "I want to apologize-"

Flash grabs him by the arm and hauls him away, looking pissed, "We'll be going now.  Sorry about," he waves a hand vaguely, then gives Billy a nod and a smile, "Take care dude."

Billy waves at him, voice sticking in his throat.

"Let's go inside," Rosa says.  "Victor's making his lasagna tonight, how does that sound?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Freddy cheers, and for good reason.  Victor's lasagna is everyone's favorite.

Billy nods, still not quite able to get any words out.  They go inside, Billy clinging to Rosa like she's the only thing keeping him upright. 

Barry finds Hal in a shitty dive bar getting drunk.  Now more than ever he wishes he could get drunk, but he can't so he settles on a piña colada so Hal doesn't feel quite so pathetic drinking alone.  At least these taste good. 

"Hey Bear," Hal says, a slight slur in his voice as Barry comes back with their drinks.  He hiccups, "How's the kid."

Barry sighs heavily.  "Supes did a number on him.  His foster parents seem like good people, though, so I think he's gonna be okay."

"Fuckin' Supes man," Hal mutters.  "Guy wouldn't know a good way to deal with traumatized kids if it bit him on the ass.  Guy is all sunshine out the wazoo, fucker is uncomfortable with the heavy shit.  Punch a meteor?  No problemo!  Handle an abused kid with any sorta delicacy?  Fuck that shit!  Can't believe Bats is good at that but not him."

Barry shrugs, exhausted.  He hadn't realized Clark was going to bring up that aspect until he'd already started talking and by then it was too late to do anything.  He knows he meant well but he really screwed the pooch on this one.  He can't get Billy's face out of his head, all ashy gray skin and haunted eyes.  He's seen enough of that as a CSI to get a decent idea of what the kid's been through.

God, he wishes he could get drunk.

As it is, he should probably get Hal home.  He downs his piña colada in one gulp and gets to his feet.  "C'mon dude," he says, tugging Hal's arm, "Time to head out."

"No-o," Hal whines, gripping his beer like a child with a teddy bear. 

"Yup," Barry hauls him to his feet, "You're gonna hate yourself in the morning if I let you keep drinking."

"Joke's on you," Hal slurs, "I'll hate myself either way."  It doesn't entirely read as a joke. 

"Okay," Barry says. 

"S'just a kid, Bear," Hal groans as he helps him into the passenger seat of the car.  "Just a lil kid... Itty bitty."

"I know dude," Barry responds.  He holds out his hand, "Keys?"

Hal pats clumsily at his pockets, handing them to him with a fumble.  "There y'go."

Barry starts the car and heads to Hal's apartment.  He'll text Iris that he's spending the night so she doesn't worry.  She knows he and Hal have their own weird thing and she's cool with it.  She's almost as fond of Hal as he is. 

"Up you go," he says as he hauls Hal up the stairs and through the front door.  "Man, you need to clean up.  This place is a pigsty."

Hal just grunts at him.  He takes that as a sign that his friend hasn't died of alcohol poisoning yet and drags him to the bedroom, depositting him on his bed.  He moves to leave but Hal whines, making grabby hands at him like he's a little kid.  "Stay?" he asks with wide eyes.

Barry sighs, "Sure.  Lemme just text Iris."

"Love Iris," Hal slurs, "Such a boss ass bitch."

Barry snorts, "Yeah, I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"M'kay," Hal replies, clearly not listening.

barry: im staying the night @ hals

baby: 👍 tell him i said hi

"Iris says hi," he tells Hal.

Hal grunts, already half-asleep.

barry: you got a grunt

baby: haha good night ❤

barry: night

Chapter Text

The next week feels like a fever dream.  They're all banned from going on patrol, no matter how much they beg and plead.  Rosa and Victor keep hovering like they'll all disappear if they're out of their sight for more than a couple of seconds.  Billy feels restless and wired and he needs to go flying or he's going to go nuts.  Every news story feels like it's pointing its fingers at him and chanting failure, failure, failure.  If only he'd kept his secrets better then he wouldn't be stuck inside.  He's not even allowed to go to school until his wrist and ribs heal up a bit more; not that he particularly enjoys school, just that he's not there to protect Freddy from bullies.  The Bryers take advantage of his absence and corner Freddy in the bathroom, giving him a swirly and a bloody nose for his troubles.

"I'm sorry," Billy says as he wipes the blood off his brother's face.  He feels like a piece of shit for not being able to protect him from those assholes.

"Why?" Freddy asks.

"Wasn't there," he mutters.

Freddy laughs, "Dude, it's fine.  I'm not some damsel in distress who needs to be protected all the time.  I can handle my own shit.  How're you liking TWD?"

"It's good."  He's behind on a lot of popular TV and movies after running away from every foster home and living on the streets, so Freddy made him a list of absolute must-sees and he's been running it down.  "I'm not usually a huge horror guy but it's cool."

"I know, right?!  The makeup department is insane, dude, like that's the reason I'm always saying we need to bring back practical effects in movies!" Freddy rambles excitedly.  "Who's your fave so far?"

Billy thinks for a second.  "Um, I like Glenn.  He's funny and kinda nerdy."

Freddy makes a face, "Oh man, you are in for a rough ride then."

Billy punches his shoulder, "No spoilers, asshole!  How about you?"

"I like Daryl," Freddy decides.

"Really?" he asks, taken aback.  "Daryl seems like an asshole to me."

"Yeah, well, he gets more fleshed out as the show goes on.  Total shitty childhood leading to repressed emotions, y'know how it is," Freddy comments, gesticulating wildly, "Did you know he was originally supposed to die at the end of the first season but now he's one of the longest existing characters on the show?"

"That's cool," Billy says, throwing out the bloody tissues.

"How's your stab wound?" Freddy asks.

"It itches real bad but Rosa says that's a good thing, means it's healing I guess," he replies with a shrug, sitting next to Freddy on the bunk.  "How's your nose?"

"S'okay.  Thanks for helping me out.  They're already so worried with the superhero thing that I don't want to make them deal with my shit too," he says.  He looks like he's about to say something else but before he can Darla bursts through the door.

"Freddy!  Billy!  Look, I got an B on my test today!" she shouts excitedly, shoving a piece of paper into their faces.

"Good job Dee," Billy says.

"Awesome," Freddy agrees with a smile.

Vic keeps a close watch on Philly after the bombshell that was Shazam's secret ID.  He still can't believe that the big guy was really Billy Batson all along.  Back when he'd dated Mary, Billy had always regarded him with an air of quiet suspicion.  It had bugged him until Mary confided that Billy was just like that with most people, it had nothing to do with him personally.  He thinks he understands that caution a bit better now, hearing the whispers of the other Leaguers.

The look in his eyes, Barry had muttered, I never thought I'd see that outside of my day job.  Barely older than Wally.

If I ever find out who hurt him, Hal said bitterly, clenching his fist.

He is too young to be fighting such battles, Diana had declared.

He needs training before we even think about letting him back out into the field, Batman said decisively.

We don't use child soldiers, Clark announced, leaving no room for argument.

He's a kid.  We don't use kids, Arthur snapped when anyone brought it up.

And Vic agrees with them, don't think he doesn't.  But he also thinks they're forgetting one simple fact: Billy is a teenager with superpowers.  He's not going to stay on the sidelines just because they've benched him.  And he doesn't think they could stop him if it really came down to it either.  He keeps this to himself though, because the simple fact is he knows he can't change their minds.  Only Billy can do that.

Chapter Text

Before becoming the Champion, Billy's dreams were just that.  No special, hidden meaning other than reminding him that he definitely needed therapy.  Now, though, his dreams are an even mix of nightmares and nonsensical Champion bullshit.  He honestly can't decide which dreams he hates more, the nightmares or the cryptic magic warnings from a wizard who is supposed to be dead!

Tonight, he dreams of fire and brimstone and dead Justice Leaguers.  "Billy Batson," the Wizard says, or rather announces, his name and he groans in annoyance.

"Hey man," he says.  "Couldn't let me get one good night's sleep could ya?"

"Terrible things are coming, Billy Batson," the Wizard continues.  Billy snorts, reminded of the homeless guys who walk around with The End is Nigh! signs around their necks.  "Do not take this lightly, boy."

"Fine, sure, hit me.  Tell me about my impending doom," he sighs.

"The failures of the past have returned.  Teth-Adam lives once more," he announces imperiously.

"I don't know who that is," Billy deadpans.

"The last Champion, the one wrongly chosen," the Wizard clarifies.

A bead of sweat trickles down Billy's spine.  "The guy who destroyed an entire civillization in a single night and released the Sins?  That fucking guy?" he asks.

"Yes, Billy Batson," the Wizard confirms, "That fucking guy.  He has returned and he is coming for you."

He wakes up in a cold sweat.  "Freddy," he hisses, leaning over the edge of the bed.  "Freddy!"  Still he gets no reply.  "FREDDY!" he whisper-shouts, hanging down and smacking his brother in the face.

Freddy snorts, smacking his lips, "Wha- huh?  I'm awake, I'm up, jesus!"

"The Wizard," he says.

"What?" Freddy asks, eyes wild like they get when he's still half-asleep.

"He told me that the last Champion is back from the dead," he says.

"I thought the Wizard disintegrated though?" Freddy asks.

"Y'know those dreams, I told you about them right?  The ones where he talks to me?  I just had one of those," he explains.  "He talked about some guy, Teth-Adam, who destroyed an entire fucking country in one night and also was the one who let the Sins out into our world.  Said he's coming for me or some shit!"

Freddy sits straight up, "Did you say Teth-Adam?  You mean Black Adam, the guy from the news?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, he was on the news a couple months ago.  Said Khandaq is under his protection," Freddy explains.  "The Justice Society fought him."

"The Justice Society?" he asks, incredulous, "They've got another team with 'justice' in the name?"

"I don't know, maybe you should call them," Freddy muses, "I mean, if Black Adam is coming for you it can't hurt to have some back-up.  Normally I'd say the League but, uh," he makes a face.

"I would," he sighs, "But Batman took my League communicator and it's not like I can roll up to their headquarters and ask for help."

"Actually," Freddy holds up a finger, "That might not be a terrible idea."

Amanda Waller is a smart woman.  She has to be, to successfully manipulate so many powerful people.  So she notices when a new group of superpowered individuals appear seemingly out of nowhere in Phillidelphia.  She also notices when one of said superhumans starts showing off his powers on Youtube of all places.  She doesn't like him on the principal that he's childish and immature.  Between Hal Jordan and Barry Allen, she has enough of that type of asset already.  She doesn't need anymore headaches.

Of course, she didn't plan on said individual showing up at the Justice Society's front door.  "We have a problem," she tells Hall as soon as he picks up, "Shazam and the blue one are at Nelson's front door."

Chapter Text

I've decided to rewrite this fic. The new version will be up under the name "Lichtenberg Fracture".