Chapter Text
By his reckoning, it would be six months since his death. He was scared, cold and alone, but he had to stay that way. Billy is just a boy, with the power of the world in the palms of his hands and his feet buried in the sand.
When Superman grabbed him by the neck and blew ice into his mouth, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, all with the same rhythm: I'm going to die. But a guilt-fueled part of him was finally calm, since he was finally going to stop fighting. Billy feels like a horrible person, blaming himself for being selfish for wanting to end everything, leaving behind everyone who needed him. Is it that bad that he wishes he had stayed dead there, in the middle of that meeting? That, after all this time, he just wants to rest?
His body even was picked up from the frozen ground, did his companions mourn his death? Billy can't even call them that, do they deserve that title? Does he deserve?
Before, in the-beginning-before, Billy felt powerful: he was fighting side by side with Superman, his great hero. Now, Billy can't feel any of the gods inside him. Their presence has become only echoes in his chest, but it's as if Billy hasn't lost his powers, as if, instead of dead, they're embedded and spread through his veins. Billy feels the electricity in his extremities, in his heart, saying "Hang in there, Billy" as his breathing quickens and memories of the war flood his mind.
His thoughts come to a screeching halt when Billy feels a sting on his foot. He lifts his buried foot from the sand and sees a small crab crawling out from under it. Another life ruined. Poor Billy, a cursed soul. The wizard told you that you were supposed to protect life, to be on the side of the light, and here you are, destroying every life you touch, like a true villain.
Now that winter is approaching, Billy is trying to find a place to sleep near the back of restaurants. An alley, behind a dumpster, or even out in the open, as long as it's close to where people usually throw away their food scraps. However, these places are usually already occupied by other homeless people, and the last thing Billy wants is to get into more fights with defenseless people.
While Central City is a city with public policies and a government that is aware of its homeless population and tries to make things easier — unlike Gotham — the system is flawed and easy to slip through the cracks. Billy lasted about two weeks in a shelter, with a very thin lady keeping an eye on him, worrying about him, and putting packets of cookies in his coat pockets before he was overcome with guilt and ran away, to never return.
I hope the lady is okay.
The beach sun felt good, warm against his skin, something Billy had to enjoy before winter finally set in. It was going to be a rough time, like every other winter he could remember. If I kept looking at the sun, maybe I’d pass out, be swept away by the tide, and finally find peace. Billy looked up at the sky and felt his eyes burning, his heart racing, and goosebumps breaking out all over his body. He took his arms from his squeezed knees and wrapped them around his torso, hoping to warm himself enough to take away the immense emptiness he felt, the sense of uselessness, of rapture, and immeasurable sadness.
Billy leaned forward and knelt in the sand, placing one hand in front of him and the other on his heart. It felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, but that wasn't the worst thing he'd ever felt. The sand began to darken in front of him in small circles that accumulated. Tears. Black spots filled his vision, just like they had so many times before. He hadn't eaten anything since he woke up, and now it was getting dark. I need to go back.
Billy stood up, even though his legs were weak and his head was hurting, he needed to keep living. He needed to. Billy didn't know where he was, only that it was a beach. When he discovered that he couldn't transform into Captain Marvel, but could still feel the magic bubbling in his gut, he came to the conclusion that he would need to use the few spells he had learned to survive. Basic Teleportation, for example, had saved his life more times than he could count since he arrived in this dimension.
He pulled a screw from his pocket, the same screw from the trash can that had been sitting next to him while he slept, in the alley next to an apartment building with kind but helpless people. For the spell to work and return him to a specific place, he needed an object that had been in that specific location long enough to absorb the soul of the place. Fortunately, the screw from a trash can attached to an old building was enough.
With his hands clasped together and the screw between them, he blew into the opening between his thumbs, whispered “Ekat em kcab ot ruoy snigiro” and felt the magic flow from his heart to his shoulders, to his arms and then to his hands and circulate until it reached his fingerprints. And then, Billy swallowed hard and felt a cold breath and the magic dancing back to his heart and traveling through his body, enveloping him as Billy squeezed his eyes even tighter. When he felt his forehead resting against the lid of the trash can, where he had taken the screw, he opened his eyes and found himself back in Central City.
Billy let out a deep sigh and felt like crying again. Stop it, Billy! Get a grip! You're already thirteen! At least he thinks he's thirteen. It's not easy to keep counting how old you are in the midst of bigger things to worry about. A few months have passed since he arrived in this dimension, but Billy hasn't been paying attention to any dates, considering he's been avoiding all sources of news. Now he doesn't have time to think about anything, even though there are always some memories that come at the least opportune moments.
Here, Billy feels like he was before he gained his powers and joined the Justice League: he would wake up, look for food, money, opportunities, and when he didn't get any, he would go to sleep empty, but with hope that the next day would be better. Back then, Billy would pay attention to the newspapers and always get the news first hand, and he would even sell the newspapers on the subway. Back then, he would always read the articles in which the heroes appeared, especially Superman. However, now, after everything he's been through, when he goes to sleep with an empty stomach, Billy has no longer any hope that the next day will be better.
Back then, Billy always knew what day it was. Now, Billy avoids talking to people and anything that might offer him some kind of news, running past cafes with the television on the ceiling, so he ends up having no idea what day it is. He even tried to keep track of time when he first arrived, but his sense of time got lost and he sank into a vicious cycle: waking up, looking for food, a better place to sleep or get warm, a life worth sacrificing for.
Billy feels like he doesn’t deserve this life. This breathing body, this second chance to make things right. But since he has it, he will go all the way as he should have done the first time: he will die with honor, protecting those who will be grateful for his sacrifice. Billy will make up for his mistakes, whether it’s by leaving food for someone hungrier, even if his insides ache from hunger, or by stepping in the way of a gunfight to protect the victims, even if the “victims” are actually bad people. He will do whatever it takes, because everyone deserves a second chance, except him. So many others deserved this second life, not him. So many people deserved–
A huge yellow explosion shook the sky. Billy's feet jumped off the ground in fright, birds that were sitting on top of the building flew away in the opposite direction of the screaming chaos. Billy heard people passing by on the street talking louder, someone shouted "An explosion!", another exclaimed "That must be the Flash fighting!"
Oh, Flash, I miss you so much.
The explosion wasn't far away, Billy could already smell the ozone in the air as he approached with heavy, hesitant steps towards the smoke. Billy swallowed hard. Oh, this is the opportunity I've been looking for. He didn't realize he was already outside the alley. He blinked and had been standing there for a while. There were people running in the opposite direction now, apparently the danger was coming in that direction.
A man with soot on his face and gray hair came running around the corner, and when he saw Billy heading toward the chaos, he grabbed his shoulder and tried to push him away, “Billy, run, boy! There's a monstrous black mass coming this way! Run, quick, child!”
Where did Billy know this man from? “Billy, are you okay? Hurry up, kid, let’s get to safety!” the man said, both hands on Billy’s shoulders trying to lead him away, but Billy was rooted to the spot. Oh, this is Mr. Pérez, isn’t it? A good man, but I have to go.
Billy swallowed hard, trying to make his voice come out when he spoke, but it didn’t work. He tried to say that he was fine, but he choked on his dry throat. He hadn’t had a drink of water since the afternoon of the previous day, when he managed to get into the mall bathroom and drank handfuls of water straight from the sink. Desperately, he coughed hard, and tried again, “Mr. Pérez, it’s okay, I swear!” Billy put his hands on the man’s arms to pull them away, not looking the man in the eye “But I have to go! All my things are in that direction!”
With his hands out of his reach, he ran without looking back in the direction where he had seen the great yellow light emerge. As Billy passed people going in various directions, none of them were going in the same direction as him. The closer Billy got to the fight, the more he felt a tug inside him, as if his magic was being sucked out by tiny threads.
Nearing the source of the commotion, a crater in the middle of the main avenue, Flash was running around a pitch-black creature, its skin bubbling and bursting, and smoke billowing from where the bubbles burst. It would have looked like a reptile, if reptiles didn't have snouts, hind legs, and with a tail as long as the rest of their body. On its front legs and back, the creature had large muscles rippling, as if at any moment they would burn through its skin. Its eyes were a bright, toxic yellow, the only spot of color on its figure.
As Flash ran around the creature, or more accurately, walked with the speed of a speedster, Green Arrow launched seven arrows around the stunned creature, who tried to keep up with Flash, not noticing the arrows around it clearly forming something. It could see him, but not attack him. It was as if it was lost in thought, if it had any.
Slowing down, Billy stopped beside a pole at the edge of the crater that had been bent by the impact of something heavy, feeling his magic being pulled tighter and tighter. It was more pulling than sucking, but Billy could still feel tendrils of his magic flowing toward the creature.
Flash looked at Green Arrow, "Whenever you want, Arrow!" His gaze leaving the creature long enough for it to lift its head toward Billy. Oh, damn. The creature took a false step back, but took two quick steps forward and jumped on one of the arrows.
Green Arrow had less than a second to lower his bow, because in the next instant he frowned and shot an arrow just like the one in front of the creature and pressed a button on his bow, activating the arrows and trapping the creature in an electric dome, with the visible energy beams making a net.
Arrow turned toward Billy, identifying the creature's change in behavior, but Flash was the one who reacted the quickest. "Kid, get out of here! It's not safe here! You-" suddenly, the creature let out a scream similar to Black Canary's, because the piece of concrete Billy was standing on collapsed beneath him, sending him sliding to a flatter part of the crater. Flash was at his side in an instant, making some noise, but Billy's wide eyes never left the creature as it slowly made its way through the net.
The creature strained against the net, its skin bubbling more against the shocks, which seemed to have no effect on it. Its skin felt like it was boiling, but that didn't stop it from continuing to pass through the net. In astonishment, Green Arrow began to launch more arrows of a different type around the creature, but before he could activate them, the creature passed completely through the arrows and, in a flash, pushed and knocked Flash to the ground. Billy heard an agonizing crack and a scream from Flash. A broken bone. It's all your fault, Billy!
Billy heard the thud of Green Arrow's footsteps heading towards the creature with a deadly-looking red arrow, but in one moment the creature turned its head towards Billy, in the next it had knocked Billy to the ground.
It was on top of Billy, opening its mouth towards his head. The creature's saliva, also black, dripped and fell into one of Billy's eyes, which made him scream at the burning sensation. He could feel the creature's breath getting closer and closer to his face. Through the still intact eye, Billy could see three arrows in quick succession being stuck and swallowed by the creature's shoulder. Oh, I'm going to die, Billy thought, hysterical, I'm going to die like the last time, useless.
Billy pushed his hands against the creature. When his palm touched the creature's skin, it was as if his soul was being burned. The pain started at the tips of his spine, as if all his magic was reacting to the creature. Billy screamed, and as the pain persisted, his eyes rolled back in his head and his vision went black.
Billy couldn't take his hands off the creature, it was as if it was sucking Billy into itself while its mouth remained open. With fear, Billy realized that the creature was sucking his life energy, not just his magic. I'm dying. His eyebrows twitched. Billy finally started crying.
With his eyes closed, Billy heard a thud, as if someone was hitting the creature with something. With everything happening so fast, Billy came to a conclusion: the heroes won't be able to save me. I'm going to die here, worthless. No matter the dimension, I'll always die like a fight dog, useful only to others.
If I die like this, at least it will be in peace. With his life force slowly fading away, Billy was getting what he wanted. A death, finally, in peace, without being burned from the inside out by red and dark eyes. Billy would die sad, but that was okay. Not all deaths can be honorable, but Billy was not worthy of honor. He committed crimes on Superman's orders, so he deserved a death that wasn't as bad as the first one, but not good, because Billy is not good.
Billy relaxed, accepting his fate: it was okay. He had tried to do what he was made to do, but he had failed, so now he would pay for it. At least he had managed to divert the creature's attention from Flash. He heard Green Arrow shout “No! Open your eyes, boy! You can't die!”
With a start, Billy realized: he was a horrible person. How could he put his own needs above those of the heroes? If Billy died here, Flash and Green Arrow would blame themselves for much longer than if he lived long enough to go after this magical creature, because now it was his responsibility.
Opening his eyes, even with his vision blurred and black dots swimming in it, Billy could see that his arms were covered up to the elbows, inside the creature, and the pain from before had turned into a burning numbness. On the sides of the creature, a button on the Archer's bow flashed red, meaning reinforcements had been called. Flash used a piece of the pole to try to vibrate into the creature, which would work in the long run, since it seemed in pain, but not in time for Billy not to be devoured.
Billy realized that it was up to him to solve this problem. I'll help! I'll be useful once again! Billy smiled and Green Arrow frowned, and when Billy opened his mouth and began the spell, his eyes widened and he said "Wait-!", but it was too late.
“Tel eht thgil ni.” It was a strong spell, which consumed a lot of magic at once. Magic that Billy didn’t have left. His body was already weak, there was no way he could survive it, but the creature would be temporarily wiped from existence. This spell would kill it, but that wasn’t what Billy was aiming for. If I die, it will be my fault, because I used a spell that was too strong. They won’t be able to blame themselves if I’m the one who kills myself.
Moments before he closed his eyes and all the magic was ripped from his chest and passed through the creature, Billy thought he saw a large black bird in the sky.
When Billy woke up, in a white room with the strong smell of antiseptic, one eye still blurry and his arms bandaged up to the elbows, he realized that, after all, the spell had not cost him his life as he thought it would.