Chapter Text
Billy was running.
He felt as if he had been running his whole life--running from bullies, from foster homes, from social services and even the police. It seemed to him, in all his newly twelve year old wisdom, that the only thing he ever ran towards was more trouble. Sometimes that was on purpose since despite all appearances he was a world renowned superhero with the Justice League. But most of the time, when he was just plain old Billy Batson and not the World’s Mightiest Mortal, it was just bad luck. Like right now.
Right now he was running from the enraged owner of a local corner store.
“Get back here you little punk!” He bellowed. “That kid’s a thief!”.
Billy spared a glance behind him and saw that the man was gaining on him and fast. His face was red and blotchy with anger. His long legs allowed him to catch up while his shouts made people clear a path for him. His accusations had caused everyone on the street to stop and take notice. Billy’s dirty red hoodie and sun bleached backpack may as well have been neon signs saying “THAT’S HIM! THAT’S THE THIEF".
Billy swore under his breath using language he knew for a fact would make Superman blush if he heard him. If he didn’t figure something out soon he would probably spend the rest of the day in handcuffs and he would be sent to a new foster home by morning. Or juvie. Because the man chasing him was definitely going to be pressing charges.
With one last quick glance behind him, Billy made a sharp turn into an alleyway. He quickly raced to the next street over, no real destination in mind except away. He silently prayed as he ran to any of his gods who would listen. Mercury was the god that gave him his speed as a hero so Billy put extra emphasis on praying to him. After all if Billy remembered correctly the guy was also the god of thieves which was unfortunately pretty relevant right about now.
It was hard to say if it was the gods answering his prayers or if it was just his experience running from people through the back alleys of Fawcett City coming in handy. Either way Billy eventually managed to lose his pursuer. It took several detours and a one-way trip downtown on the subway just to be sure no one was following him. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him, following him. But it was probably just the unfortunate side effect of being chased all afternoon. Billy couldn’t help but feel as if Batman’s paranoia was rubbing off on him. He could practically hear the Dark Knight growling at him ‘you need to always be vigilant, Marvel. Many villains would be eager to take advantage of your negligence.'
Bad feeling or not, Billy knew he had to find his way back to his current home before it got too late. For the past couple of weeks he had been staying in an abandoned apartment building just a couple blocks from his favorite park. The condemned sign on the fence outside kept more intruders out than the fence itself which was rusty and broken in several places, including the hole Billy himself had made to sneak in easier. Billy wasn’t sure why the building was condemned, but between the rats, the graffiti, and the accumulated trash he felt pretty sure it had been that way for a long time.
Billy all but threw himself at the dirty, bare mattress that served as the only real furniture in the apartment he claimed as his own. His legs ached and he was still breathing hard from his run through the city. He clutched his backpack to his chest to remind himself that it had been worth it. Unzipping it, he looked over the contents of the bag: a handful of granola bars, two bottles of water, one bag of chips, and some minty gum. All together it cost maybe ten bucks. But it was ten bucks Billy didn’t have. Being a superhero didn’t exactly pay well. Or at all. And there were only so many people who would pay a clearly homeless twelve year old to do chores for them without calling CPS.
Billy felt the swell of victory in his chest slowly fade and with it his usually cheerful smile also dimmed. With a sigh he unwrapped one of the granola bars. He would have to make this work for at least a few days until he can make enough cash for something else. He definitely couldn’t pull another stunt like today no matter how broke he was. He didn’t need the complications of being a superhero and a teenage delinquent at the same time. Well preteen. Either way it was a bad idea. Billy swore he would never risk it again.
He knew even as he thought it that it was probably not true.
Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the shame began to set in. As it always did.
Logically he knew that he needed food to survive. That stealing the food was necessary because at the end of the day him starving to death and being unable to help people as Captain Marvel was a lot worse than him stealing some gum so his breath would smell decent even though he was running low on toothpaste. He knew this for a fact and even Solomon seemed to agree with him.
But at the same time he couldn’t help but imagine the upset faces of the Justice League if they knew he broke the law. Or the disappointed look on the wizard’s face if he were alive to see his so-called “pure-hearted champion” acting like a common crook. Could he call himself a good guy if he commits a crime? After all Catwoman is considered a villain and the only crime she regularly commits is stealing things. Billy didn’t feel like a bad guy. Though he’s pretty sure that the store owner would disagree. But he didn’t feel much like a hero right now either.
With a sigh Billy shoved his backpack into the corner and got back to his feet. Despite how tired and sore he was, Captain Marvel had patrol tonight as well as a late night monitor duty shift on the Watchtower. Which was honestly great since it would get his mind off of things and he could do some good in the world. Do good and good will follow. That was his motto even if he didn’t really remember where he learned it from. Billy smiled to himself as he headed back out to the slowly darkening streets of his city.
Today he would just have to do a little extra good to make up for the bad. Maybe then everything would balance out.
Maybe then he could stop feeling so guilty for wanting to do more than just survive.
Above him the street lights flickered on.
Several stories up, hiding in the growing shadows of early evening, a figure watched from the rooftop as the boy made his way down the street. Moments later, when a flash of lightning split the sky and Fawcett City’s own Captain Marvel took flight, the figure retreated back into the darkness.