Chapter Text
Billy Batson woke up.
There was a feeling of disorientation upon opening his eyes; he wasn’t in the abandoned warehouse he called home.
He’d become accustomed, in the years he’d been homeless, to immediately being aware of his surroundings when he woke. There was a hypervigilance required when living on the streets, especially as a child. It would often be the difference between life and death, defending his food stash or sleeping spot, or dodging the police and running from unsavoury or predatory sorts.
He took stock of his surroundings: the white walls, the familiar beeping of the med-bay, the hum of voices in the background.
On the one hand, this was good. He was on the Watch Tower. He’d not been kidnapped. He’d not been found by well-intentioned Samaritans trying to ‘save’ him from his living conditions. He’d not been handed off to CPS or social services to end up in some crappy group home or foster care. He was surrounded by friends.
On the other hand, this was very, very bad. Mainly because Billy didn’t ‘wake up’ when he was in his Captain Marvel form. Captain Marvel didn’t sleep. The stamina of Atlas prevented it.
Meaning he was –
Billy looked down.
His hands were small, scrawny and definitely the hands of a 10-year-old.
This was not good.
“You’re safe here.” Billy glanced up, meeting Superman’s warm smile, noticing the soothing tone of his voice. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Billy frowned.
Even in his worst imaginings, the nightmares he envisioned of the League finding out his true identity through accident or intentionally, he never assumed the League would be violent. Angry, sure. Betrayed, absolutely. But never violent.
Billy didn’t say anything, but Superman’s eyes flickered over his face, observing the confused frown spreading across his face.
“Do you know who we are? I am Superman.” The alien gestured to the man next to him. “This is Batman. There’s been an accident, but we’re your friends.”
A sudden realisation hit Billy at the introduction. They didn’t know he knew who they were. They didn’t know this was his true form. They thought he’d been de-aged.
It wasn’t an unrealistic assumption; weirder things had happened. Billy had once been on watch duty when Batman, Flash and Green Lantern had been brought in after a very unfortunate bodyswap situation. It’s why in the ‘on-boarding’ process for the League there was a long section on different, increasingly absurd situations they could find themselves in and what they’d want people to do in those scenarios, courtesy of Batman, as one would expect.
So, the League thought he’d been de-aged by magic.. that could work.
Billy viscerally fought back any tell-tale signs of comprehension, not wanting to clue them in that he very much knew who they were.
Instead, he took stock.
Billy glanced down.
He was dressed in the typical infirmary gown that everyone who passed through the infirmary was made to wear. Not Billy though; Captain Marvel’s form-fitting suit usually never came off, so he’d never been made to wear the gown. Unless you counted the time he’d been hit by magic and revived in the Watch Tower wearing a gown over his Captain Marvel suit. Billy felt the fabric of the infirmary gown, the novelty hitting him. It was soft under his fingers and was warmer than he expected it to be; it must have an insulating layer on the inside. It’d make a useful thermal layer for him when fighting the freezing cold of Fawcett city nights.
“It’s made from cotton.” Superman offered.
Billy glanced up again, startled.
Batman gave Superman a look Billy couldn’t parse. “Cotton existed in Ancient Greece, Kal.”
“I know that.” Superman answered, though the reddening tint of his ears belied the statement.
Oh.
Of course.
Ignoring the fact that Superman’s name was Kal, of all things, Billy’s thoughts ran wild.
Billy had always encouraged the rumours that he was older than he actually was – for obvious reasons – with the most prevalent rumours being that he’d been present during ancient times. It was aided by the fact that versions of Captain Marvel had been present in ancient times, just with previous hosts. Billy also had plenty of insider knowledge of Ancient Greece – thanks to the slew of Gods in his head – and he knew Ancient Greek, from the Wisdom of Solomon.
The Justice League clearly believed him to be de-aged and they must be assuming amnesia, too, based on his current reactions. He hadn’t said anything yet to negate the assumption. If he was in Captain Marvel form, he would already have been assuring them of his health, jovial as ever. But without the courage of Achilles or the stamina of Atlas, he was just Billy.
And just Billy wasn’t anything like Captain Marvel.
He was a street kid, with an attitude and at least two officers in Fawcett who were looking for any opportunity to send him to juvie.
He was just him.
“We need to get Wonder Woman here.” Batman intoned quietly to Superman, just loud enough for Billy to hear. “She will be able to communicate with him properly.”
Oh, gods. That is not good. Billy was beginning to panic.
How was he supposed to convince the Justice League that he had no memories? How was he supposed to lie convincingly to Batman himself? It was one thing to lie by omission, who would outright ask if a man with the strength of multiple Gods was secretly a 10-year-old?
This though? This was going to take actual manoeuvring. Lying on a level Billy didn’t know if he was capable of. And to Batman’s face at that.
Billy's thoughts screeched to a halt, a sudden thought distracting him from yet another panic.
Wait. He glanced back down at the gown. If he was wearing the infirmary gown now, had he de-transformed naked? He felt a blush rise in him, the heat staining his cheeks. An uneasy feeling washed over him. He knew the Justice League weren’t the types to take advantage or do anything weird to him while unconscious – he wouldn’t be working with them if he even considered that they were capable of that – but that didn’t erase the feeling of embarrassment that washed over him.
He unconsciously clutched the gown tighter around him, as though that would erase the fact that it was all that he had on.
Batman's eyes followed the movement. He stepped back minutely, pulling Superman with him.
Billy felt a rush of gratefulness at the action, even though they’d only moved a few feet.
Batman pointed to the edge of the medical cot, where a blanket lay, and mimed Billy putting it on. “It will be warmer for you.” He spoke, tone warm and friendly – none of its usual growl – trying to put Billy at ease, despite believing he couldn’t understand them.
If Billy didn’t already respect Batman to the fullest, that alone would have changed his mind.
Maybe the transforming naked was a blessing, Billy considered, if he’d powered down wearing his beaten-up sneakers and worn-down jeans, they would have definitely clocked him as a child of this era. And a street rat to boot.
Batman cleared his throat, gently.
Billy looked up again, realising he’d been spiralling again.
“Batman.” The man pointed to himself, then pointed to Superman. “Superman.”
Superman smiled encouragingly.
Batman pointed to Billy expectantly.
Nice try, Billy thought, wryly.
He shook his head, scooting back on the cot.
Tapping into the wisdom of Soloman was much harder when in Billy form, but he’d been practicing accessing his powers when de-transformed for months now; he had a lot of time between patrols and Justice League watch duty, given that he wasn’t attending school.
In Ancient Greek, Billy said. “I don’t give my names to strangers. There’s power in a name.” He tilted his head, pretending to consider them. “You can call me Outis.”
Batman’s lip twitched.
Superman raised an eyebrow at him, curiously.
Batman shook his head, amused. “He doesn’t want to give us his name. He said to call him Nobody.”
“I thought you didn’t know any Ancient Greek.” Superman said, eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t. But I recognised the word for Nobody in Greek; the story of Odyssey was one of Jason’s favourites, before –“ Batman faltered. “Well, I bought him a limited-edition version once, in Greek. Outis means Nobody.”
“Captain Marvel’s a smart child.” Batman surmised, though his expression turned more serious with the thought. “He’s definitely more distrustful as a child than he is as an adult.”
Superman hummed in agreement, his eyes meeting Billy’s once more, turning sad. “Or maybe he’s just learned to hide it better.”
Billy made a concerted effort not to scowl at the man; he wasn’t supposed to understand them, he wasn’t supposed to know they were talking about him to his face.
He let out a slow breath, trying to channel the power of the Gods through him. He could do this. He just needed to pretend he didn’t know them; let no hints of his secret identity slip; and wait for the perfect opportunity to flee back to Fawcett, get to the Rock, transform and pretend to the League that he and the Wizard had managed to ‘fix’ his situation.
“I’ll get Wonder Woman,” Superman offered, glancing between Batman and Billy cautiously. “– hopefully she’ll make him feel more at ease.”
Batman’s eyes searched his face, lingering on what Billy knew was his slightly sunken in cheeks and sallow look. Even with Batman’s inscrutable expression, Billy got the feeling Batman was unhappy with what he saw.
Gods, Billy thought, I can’t do this.
Being the sole recipient of Batman’s focus was too much. He glanced over to the door, hopefully. When was Wonder Woman going to get here?
****
Batman didn’t try to make any more conversation while Superman was gone; he just smiled – smiled! – at Billy, and retrieved what looked to be a protein bar from one of the nearby cupboards.
When Billy had stared at it confusedly – he hadn’t known they kept protein bars in the Infirmary – Batman had reached over and ripped the packaging open. Even going so far as to break a chunk of the bar off and eat it himself, as though to demonstrate it was safe to eat.
Batman was kind of a softie at heart, Billy was realising.
Or maybe just very good with children. For the first time, Billy wondered if Batman, of all people, had children at home. He’d never really considered it before. He didn’t spend much of his time wondering about the ‘real’ lives of his colleagues, though many of them seemed all too happy to tell everyone about their civilian lives either way.
Billy ate the protein bar, unable to stop himself from pushing back into the corner of the infirmary cot and curling around the food protectively. He practically inhaled the bar; food never lasted long when you live on the streets.
Glancing back up, Billy felt his face flush in embarrassment as he caught Batman’s concerned eyes.
It was almost a relief when Wonder Woman arrived, with Batman’s eyes turning to the door and, more importantly, away from Billy, as the door slid open.
Wonder Woman approached, slowly, with a smile, Superman close behind.
Billy could only assume she’d been filled in on the situation.
“Hello, Little Marvel. I am Princess Diana of Themyscira. And you know Batman and Superman.” She gestured at the two men behind her. “I know this must be confusing for you, but we mean you no harm.”
Billy couldn’t hold back the instinctive scoff. “That’s what they all say.”
He froze; he hadn’t meant to say that.
See, this is why it was a bad idea to try and pull the wool over the League’s eyes; inevitably he was going to say something, let something slip, without the Gods to warn him before he spoke. And this time, he wouldn’t have the secure cover of being an immortal, indestructible Captain Marvel. Eventually the world’s greatest detective is going to figure out the truth.
“Has someone hurt you before?” Diana asked, the concern in her voice unmistakable.
“People will always hurt you.” Billy answered, cynically. “Trusting people is how you get lured into a –“ He caught himself just before he used the word ‘van’, self-correcting to. “– chariot and kidnapped or sold as a slave.”
Wonder Woman turned to the other two, quickly translating under her breath. Billy turned away from their startled looks; he knew what he was saying didn’t match Captain Marvel’s typical upbeat attitude, but he couldn’t help it.
Billy doesn’t have the stamina of Atlas here and he’s tired, bruised and hungry. He just wanted to go home.
Turning back to him, Diana continued. “I’m sorry that that’s been your experience. We promise you that while you’re here no-one will hurt you. We are just looking to help.” Unlike when he was normally told such things, by the social workers or police officers, Billy found himself actually believing Wonder Woman.
“Batman tells me you want to be called Outis.”
Billy smirked, involuntarily. “That’s what I said.”
Diana smiled.
“Well, Outis.” She emphasised the name with amusement, her mirth growing when Billy ducked his head to hide his own expression. “You are at the Watch Tower. It’s the home of Earth’s mightiest warriors, the Justice League. You’ve been hit by magic and de-aged by… a few years –”
Billy had to really focus on not reacting to that. From Diana’s perspective, ‘a few years’ was a dramatic understatement given that they thought he came from Ancient Greece.
“You are normally older and a warrior, who fights alongside the League, known to us as Captain Marvel.” At this she paused, watching Billy for any sign of confusion or disbelief, when he gave none, she continued. “We are doing everything we can to get you changed back. We’ve contacted our magicians –”
Oh, crap.
That wasn’t something he’d considered, though maybe he should have. Of course they would try to contact Zatanna or Constantine themselves. Thankfully, Constantine knew, somewhat, that his Captain Marvel form wasn’t his true form; he knew that Captain Marvel was the avatar for magic, its chosen champion. But Constantine didn’t know that his true form was that of a 10-year-old.
Constantine would certainly figure it out quickly if he saw Billy like this though.
Billy cringed.
“–and we’re hoping they’ll be here in the next 24 hours.”
A day. That’s how long he had to keep the facade going, give the ‘world’s mightiest heroes’ the slip and, hopefully, get to the Rock and pretend to ‘fix’ himself.
He could do that.
Billy’s stomach rumbled traitorously.
Diana’s eyes brightened, “We can get you some food, Little Marvel.” Her eyes dropped to the gown he was still wearing. “And we can get you something else to wear, too.”
****
Bruce stared at the computer.
Diana had corralled the newly clothed and de-aged Captain Marvel to the Mess Hall. She’d offered the child a selection of Justice League branded clothes, noting his preference for red when he’d selected a Flash hoodie, Superman shirt and Wonder Woman shoes, as well as some plain black jeans.
Bruce stifled the urge to sigh; despite no-one else being in the room, he tried not to give into the impulse.
The screen before him held all the knowledge he’d had Captain before today, which amounted to very little.
Name: Unknown
Alias: Captain Marvel
Age: Unknown
Family: Unknown
Enemies: Black Adam, Doctor Sivana, and Mister Mind
Weaknesses: Immaturity, inexperience, magic
Strengths: Durability, Strength, Lightning, Magic, Indestructibility
Captain Marvel was a very private person.
Despite Bruce’s best efforts, ranging from subtle observation, overt questions and attempts to follow him post-watch duty – yes, Bruce had been told by his children that that been an ill-advised thing to do and it wasn’t something he was particularly proud – he’d not learned anything of the Captain’s life outside of the League.
While the man rarely stopped talking, he never said anything of import about himself. It had impressed Bruce on many occasions.
But now? It had him frustrated; if he knew more about Captain Marvel outside of the League, they’d be better able to help him. Make him more at ease and comfortable.
Bruce hadn’t liked the wary looks that the de-aged Marvel had given them; watchful and scared. In fact, most of the behaviours Captain Marvel had been displaying had been outright concerning. From the skittish body language, the protectiveness of his food and, despite trying not to look when the man had been de-aged naked, the bruises that littered his body. The Lichtenberg scars on his chest.
All of it painted a poor picture of Captain Marvel’s childhood, neglectful at best and abusive at worst. It was a picture that was so at odds with his happy personality in present-times, though, many people who fell on hardship often looked to mask those experiences with joy and humour.
Seeing Captain Marvel so small and scared had incited that instinct in him, the one that always gripped him when he was with his own children – the one they constantly joked about when they thought he couldn’t hear them.
He wanted to care for Captain Marvel, protect him.
But Captain Marvel was an adult.
He might be a child right now, de-aged as he was, but his actual childhood was behind him, long behind him. All Bruce could do for him now was feed him, heal any injuries and wait for the magical experts to come and revert him to his normal age.
Captain Marvel wasn’t one of his children.
He didn’t need the help that Bruce wanted to give. Bruce just needed to remind himself of that fact.
****
Billy’s stomach growled again, louder this time.
Diana laughed, warmly.
The walk to the Mess Hall had been interesting. The entire Watch Tower looked different, felt different, as regular Billy Batson. Everything felt bigger, unsurprising given the height difference between him and his Captain Marvel form, and it felt unusual to walk the halls instead of flying or hovering.
He’d looked everywhere he could, taking in all the new perspectives.
Thankfully, the behaviour fed into Wonder Woman’s assumptions on him being from Ancient Greece; Billy assumed she thought he was taking in all the technology around them and space.
“Here you are.” Diana placed the tray and plates down in front of him, bringing Billy back to the present.
They were piled high with an assortment of fruit, vegetables and meat.
Diana hadn’t known what ‘Outis’ would be comfortable or able to eat; the diet of an ancient Greek would be very different to the diet of modern times. Far less processed sugar and fats, that’s for sure.
Billy’s mouth dropped open at the veritable mound of food before him.
He honestly didn’t know when the last time he ate a full meal was. He ate what he could at some of the Fawcett shelters, though he tried to avoid going too often or regularly enough that they could stop him and ask questions. He primarily ate scraps he foraged from the back of grocery stores and leftovers that Mark, the owner of the pizza joint down the street, gave him in return for a couple of hours of dishwashing.
His eyes flickered up to Wonder Woman, trying to gauge if the food was actually all for him.
It seemed like a lot if that was the case.
Diana’s eyebrows furrowed at Captain Marvel’s hesitance to reach for the food, despite the loud gurgling of his stomach and half-starved frame.
Encouragingly, she reached for a couple of figs, to put on her own plate. “Do you not like the food, Outis?”
“No!” Billy yelled, managing to garner the attention of both the Flash and Green Lantern who sat on the other side of the hall. Admittedly, Billy thought they’d been watching him as surreptitiously as they could even without the yelling; clearly interested in catching a glimpse of a ‘young’ Captain Marvel.
“I mean –” Billy’s cheeks flushed again.
It was embarrassing, being able to show his embarrassment as himself. Normally, in avatar-form, he had full control over his own bodily functions; he never blushed or stuttered. His heart only beat because he wanted it to. Showing his embarrassment so obviously in front of Wonder Woman made him want the ground to swallow him whole.
“– it looks great.” Billy finished, weakly.
He loaded his own plate with fruit and vegetables, steering clear of the heavier foods like cheese or spicy food. From experience, having gone a while without eating, they’d sit too heavy in his stomach, and he’d likely end up throwing them up later in the evening otherwise.
With a final glance at Wonder Woman, Billy pulled the plate closer to him, automatically placing a protective arm in between the rest of the room and his plate.
Finally, Billy dug into his food with relish.
Once he’d started, he found it difficult to stop, but he made a concerted effort to slow his eating. Not wanting to risk throwing up the food due to speed.
From a few tables over, Billy heard the Flash comment, “Little Marvel sure can eat a lot!”
“Tell me about it. I didn’t even know the guy could eat.” Green Lantern replied. “Have you ever seen him eat?”
“No, even when I offered him some of my bars–”
Billy stiffened, their voices fading into the background.
Instantly, Billy realised his mistake; he told them before that he doesn’t need to eat.
Then again, he’d also told them that his Captain Marvel suit didn’t come off, yet here he was donned in the merch of most of the core-Justice League. The League weren’t stupid; they’d be able to make the connection that whatever powers or abilities he had, he’d gained them later in life, not been born with them.
He needed to get out of here, before anyone got too suspicious.
Would he be able to escape before then?
How was he going to do that?
Billy considered this, as he continued eating.
Maybe asking for a bathroom would be the best way to go; he still had some of his magical abilities, not that the League knew. He could do a basic invisibility spell easily enough. All he’d have to do is slip out, unnoticed, and get a Zeta Tube back to Fawcett.
He couldn’t wait for Constantine to arrive.
He didn’t need Constantine’s ‘help’ even at the best of times. Besides, this wasn’t something to fix. Billy needed to go to the Rock of Eternity, re-charge there and say the word.
Billy didn’t need help; he would fix this by himself.