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In Billy’s defense, he was fresh off an off-world mission. He could feel the dull ache of exhaustion in his bones even as the Captain. His eyelids were sagging, and everyone gave him a wide berth on his way to the zeta tube. Feeling anything in Cap’s body was a bad sign, it would be multiplied tenfold once he switched back to plain old Billy. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Who could blame him when he left Cap’s body in the usual alleyway near his house? He called the lightning down, immediately feeling the exhaustion hit him with full force. He nearly collapsed then and there, but dragged himself home. The lights were out, but Rosa was waiting with a cup of coffee in the living room, a small lamp illuminating her face and bathrobe.
“Welcome back. Have fun?” Rosa set her coffee down to walk over to Billy. “Woah there kiddo, don’t fall over on me.” Billy stumbled into her arms, fighting sleep. “Must’ve been tiring if you’re this loopy. Let’s get you to bed, okay mijo?”
“Mm… ay.” Billy mumbled into Rosa’s warm arms, and let Rosa lead him up the stairs to his bed.
Freddy was already fast asleep, so Billy crawled up to his bunk the quietest he could, too used to coming home late after missions. At least it was a Friday, he didn’t have to worry about waking up for school the next morning. After a stern talking-to from Rosa, Batman made sure he was never scheduled late on schoolnights. Billy wasn’t like Batman’s Robins, he couldn’t function with only four hours of sleep and enough coffee to power a generator. He drifted off to sleep soon after Rosa kissed his forehead.
Billy woke up the next afternoon, extremely disoriented. He checked the time on his phone, and decided 3 o’clock PM was still an acceptable time for lunch.
Before Billy even stepped foot into the lower floor of the house, he heard someone address him.
“Billy, why is the news telling me you’re dead?” Eugene stood in front of the TV, remote in hand.
“Huh?” Billy rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Look.” Eugene unpaused the news broadcast. A large headline with breaking news attached read, “Philadelphia mourns the Captain.” Somber images flash on the screen, flowers on street corners, people crying in the streets, the familiar alley with crime scene tape over it.
Where did he put Marvel’s body last night? “Shit. I left him in an alleyway.”
Darla ran up to Billy, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
“...Me too.” Nobody has ever noticed the bodies in that alleyway, he could’ve sworn it was fully abandoned. He loved his powers, but having a spare body that felt like a corpse was definitely a downside. He should definitely get some kind of shed or coffin to hide his never ending roulette of corpses.
“What are you gonna do?” Victor came around the corner with a sandwich, handing it to Billy.
“Thanks. Um, I’m not sure. I can’t exactly go, ‘Surprise, I’m not dead!’ How am I supposed to get my body out without leaving this one out in the open?”
“Have you checked your phone or communicator? They probably saw the news.” Eugene said, handing Billy his phone. Where did he get that, he left it upstairs?
“Yeesh, Bruce must be blowing up my phone.” Billy unlocked his phone, and the notifications started rolling in. Luckily they were only from the morning, his “death” was still breaking news.
Billy clicked on the most recent caller, who picked up on the first ring.”Bruce.”
“Billy! Are you safe? I’ve been trying to call you all day.” Bruce replied hurriedly, a clear sigh of relief present in his worrying.
“I’m totally fine. My public image, however, is not. How do I get my body out of there, ASAP?” Billy went straight to business, the usually stone faced Batman worrying about him made him sweat a bit.
“You’re sure you’re fine?”
“Yeah, not the first time I’ve had to leave myself in that alley, just the first time I’ve gotten caught.”
Bruce sighed over the other line. Billy could practically see him rubbing his eyes.
“Okay. Can you come to the Watchtower to discuss retrieval plans? I’ll contact the Philadelphia morgue.”
“Sure, I’ll be there soon.” Billy hung up. Explaining how his powers worked to Bruce had been an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, but it was worth it for moments where he could leverage Batman’s influence in his personal life. His classmates still wondered why Damian Wayne followed him on Instagram.
“Okay, going to the Watchtower. Bruce is gonna take care of it.” Billy finished his sandwich, realizing he hadn’t had dinner the night before.
“Tell Mr. Wayne I say hi!” Darla shouted from the kitchen table.
“I will!” Billy ignored his family’s worried looks and headed out to the old photo booth turned zeta tube, shaking his hands out. He wasn’t used to being on the Watchtower in his own body, he had only been up there a handful of times. Luckily, the tube had been updated so Billy’s regular body could use it too.
“Billy! Are you okay? I saw the news.” Dinah stood up from her seat in the common area of the tower.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just an awkward situation going on.” Billy let Dinah touch his shoulder and comfort him, even if he felt like he didn’t need it.
Bruce came around the corner, his cowl off and hanging around his neck. “Billy. I contacted the Philadelphia morgue. They have your body, and were reluctant to part with it, but I told them there’s a chance we can revive you. They agreed to let us take the body up to the Watchtower so you can transform safely.”
“Thanks. How are you gonna get it up here?”
“Clark said he’s willing to transport it, he can fly it up here. Can your body withstand space?”
“Yeah, I’ve been up in space before, Cap doesn’t need to breathe, especially not when he’s dead.” Billy chuckled humorlessly. The reality of him being “dead” was starting to sink in.
Marvel and him weren’t always on the same page, but Billy considered the Captain’s body as an extension of his own. He never looked too hard at the bodies he left behind in the lightning, he knew he shouldn’t face his own body, dead in every way that mattered. The lightning brushed away any physical injuries he may have, but not the psychological wounds leaping into battle every day caused. Civilians have died in his arms, he has died in his own arms, over and over again.
“Billy?” Dinah called out to him. “You spaced out a bit.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m just not used to talking about my… Situation.”
“It’s okay, this is tough stuff. Do you want to talk about it?” Dinah rubbed his shoulder reassuringly again, Billy sunk into it against his will.
“No, it’s… It’s fine. It’s not uncomfortable- I mean, I’m used to it. Just weird to talk about myself like it’s not me. I’m fine.” He wasn’t Marvel, they were one being, but nobody seemed to grasp that they were still separate yet whole. Even Billy had trouble sometimes, the carefully maintained persona and mannerisms bleeding into the other life. The smiles that felt wrong, his muscles straining. The instinctual defensive stance when someone was yelling, even though he could hit them into next week. He was contrary, he couldn’t find a clear middle, nor could he find the far edges.
He puppeted Marvel’s body, Marvel’s ideals bled into his. The instincts earned over centuries of other champions, the instincts learned from his time on the streets. The taste of wine and the finest grapes, the taste of stale potato chips.
“Well, if you say so. I’m always open if you wanna chat, about anything you want.” Dinah ruffled Billy’s hair, ignoring his protests, and walked off, leaving Billy with Bruce.
Bruce stared at Billy. The man was always unreadable, but with the cowl off Billy could detect a deep sadness in his eyes. He better not be pitying him. It wasn’t his fault he was a child superhero, he didn’t choose to be the Champion of Magic, as kickass as it was.
Billy trudged over to the common area, and flopped down on a couch. “When’s Clark gonna get here?” Billy pulled out his phone and idly scrolled, not giving Bruce an inch of his emotions to analyze.
“Soon.” Bruce checked his watch, the one that somehow held all the secrets in the world. “He’s left the morgue, he’ll pass the Kármán line in about ten or twenty minutes, depending on how fast he’s going.”
Billy grunted in approval, and continued to scroll on his phone. He wasn’t taking anything in, too busy imagining his own 5’4”, sixteen year old body dying again and again, taking the same hits he takes daily in Marvel’s body. How fast would Black Adam be able to kill him? What would a bullet feel like piercing his flesh? How bad would it hurt? What would getting struck by regular lighting feel like? He idly traced the fading lichtenberg scars on his arms, imagining Zeus’ lightning being used to smite him.
“Billy.” Bruce cleared his throat, and Billy looked up from his morbid daydreaming. “If you ever want to… Talk about your powers, or- Or work less, you can always come to me. I don’t want you to- To suffer on the job. Seeing your own dead body can’t be… Pleasant.”
Billy smirked. Bold words of emotion from the guy who’s only way of coping with his emotions is distracting himself with solving mysteries so he never had to face them. “Thanks, Bruce. I think I’m done with feelings for today. I just want to take my body and get the hell out of here.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed at Billy swearing, but he didn’t comment on it. “You woke up less than an hour ago.”
“Yep,” Billy said, popping the P. “Yesterday was tough, and talking about emotions with you is like pulling teeth.”
Bruce chuckled. At least he was self-aware. “Well, I’ll stop that, then. Clark should be here soon with your body.”
As if on cue, the zeta called out the boy in blue’s arrival. Clark Kent walked in, holding Marvel’s lifeless body in a princess carry. Seriously? Couldn’t he do like, a piggy back or something? A fireman’s carry?
“Hey Billy. Brought you back a little something as a souvenir.” Clark smiled, despite holding, on all scientific accounts, a dead body as large as him in his arms.
Billy giggled. “Thanks, Clark.” At least somebody was poking fun at the situation, even though Billy could see the tightness in Clark’s eyes, the slight redness, his eyelashes dewy.
Clark gingerly dropped Marvel onto a nearby couch, tucking a pillow behind his lolling head. “Whenever you’re ready, Billy.”
Billy paused for a moment. If he transforms here, he’s gonna leave his civilian body in the Watchtower, a dead child sitting there, smoking a little bit from the lightning hitting him. Every single person on the Watchtower most likely had trauma relating to dead children, himself included. He still kept mementos of the people he couldn’t save, his heart aching whenever he saw them.
“Um, if I transform here, how am I gonna get my body down? Like, it would be awfully suspicious if I showed up back in town holding a dead teen in my arms.”
“Good point, I hadn’t thought about that.” Clark put his hand to his chin. “Bruce, any ideas?”
“You could take the zeta down, and I could take your body to Gotham and store it in the cave until you can pick it up, or we could simply leave your body here, and you could come back up for it.”
“Still doesn’t explain the random dead teenager, but I think I like the cave idea. Is there a way for you to bring my body to Philly?” Billy fully put his phone away, switching into his work mode.
“I can, yes. The Batplane and Batmobile would be too conspicuous, so I’ll take a car.”
“A dead kid is pretty conspicuous, but I like the plan. Can you also find me a new place to leave my body? Preferably one that people will never find.”
Bruce nodded. “I’ll find one. I have a list of possible bases near your house.”
Billy loved how Bruce always made sure to explain things to him, not letting him be afraid of the unknown for even a second. He still kept his cards close to his chest, but sometimes he let Billy see them like he was cheating at Uno. He still didn’t like Bruce knowing all about him, but Bruce helped protect his secrets, and that was enough to hold off the old fear of someone finding where he was squatting.
“Thanks. Um, can I have a moment with Cap? I don’t wanna strike you with lightning.”
“Alright. Call us in when you’re done.” Bruce led Clark out of the room, leaving Billy alone with Marvel’s body.
Billy stared down the lifeless eyes of Marvel. His Marvel, his body by association. He was hauntingly similar to a freshly euthanized dog, all the muscles in the face relaxed. No rigor mortis, just pliable muscles with a slack jaw. Touching Marvel would shock anybody else, but Billy could poke the Captain’s muscular cheek without any static sparking.
He’d seen Marvel’s body before, of course, but he always left in a hurry. He didn’t want to look at it too long, not this body or his own human body. Marvel’s body was exactly like the view Billy got from his eyes, only the face staring back at him was vacant. He looked pretty good for a dead guy, not even postmortem could dull the Big Red Cheese’s sparkle.
Billy took Marvel’s big hand in his own, his hand nearly half the size. No calluses, no pores, no lattice of skin cells. Marvel was airbrushed to perfection, Billy’s idealized adult form was never detailed. He imagined someone strong like the blurry memories of his father, something different from the assigned female body he was stuck in, something absolutely masculine. He didn’t think his testosterone prescription could turn him into Marvel though, apparently the malnutrition in his youth had stunted his growth or whatever.
Billy sucked in a breath, and exhaled “Shazam”. The lightning struck through the ceiling, in one of the lightning rods installed so he could transform up there safely. It hurt like hell, lightning shouldn’t be in space, but Billy braved it, just like he did the first strike. He still had the scars to prove it, but he knew this strike would cause even more scars. That’s going to be questionable at his next hormone therapy appointment.
With a blink, Billy was sat on the couch, staring at himself flopped on the ground like a puppet with cut strings. He always forgot to ensure the safety of the body he was dropping. He picked himself up, and propped him up on the couch, putting a pillow behind his head just like Clark did.
He looked long and hard at himself, trying to analyze every inch he couldn’t see in the mirror. The body he’s suffered hunger in, the heart that has been broken again and again until it hardened. He noticed his midriff has been filling out, his favorite red hoodie was fitting better. Loose fitting clothing was best, but he liked that he was gaining body mass. He had been training with Diana, and getting dietary advice from Nightwing. He had some color and freckles back on his cheeks, but the vacant eyes still haunted him.
He would’ve looked worse if he died on the streets, whether from starvation or a twist of fate. If he never met the wizard, he would’ve fled from the Vasquez home back to the streets. He would’ve never gotten to know his new family, he would have never met his colleagues in the Justice League. He felt weird calling them friends since they were all tens of years older than him, but there were real connections. His life was fucking crazy, but at least the people in it supported him every step of the way.
He shut Billy’s vacant eyes gently, then called for Bruce and Clark. It was time to go home, and sleep even more. Too many emotions for one day.