Disclaimer: all characters and locations are owned by DC. This is part 1 of 2

Billy shifted in the blistering metal chair as the sun above them boiled the asphalt below. The sweat that beaded all over his body turned him into a sticky mess. His black bangs clung to his eyebrows as they funneled salty beads into his eyes and down the back of his neck. Similar goo made his underwear ride up his crack so badly he almost prefered receiving a wedgie. Billy didn't even want to think of the state of his shirt. The crimson tee clung to his back and was soiled beyond redemption.

One glance at the crowd of boys around him told a similar story. Dozens of boys aging from five to seventeen sat in neat rows as they were surrounded by crowds and cameras. A brick building loomed before them, cruelly casting it's shadow away from them. Dozens of windows gleamed in the sunlight; clean, new, and cold. A ribbon tied the double wooden doors together. Above them, blocked letters were etched into the concrete: Luthor's Halfway House for Boys. A podium stood on the sidewalk in front of the doors and all eyes were trained on the bald man in a business suit. He smiled and waved to the cameras, who loved him back with every flash.

"People of Fawcett City." Lex Luthor began. "We are here today to celebrate the first of what I hope to be the start of a new life for young children across the country. So many of our youth are left homeless and without an adult to care for them. To provide for them. Well, I say no longer." The crowd began to cheer and Billy clapped lazily. "With the help of Dr. Sivana and Sivana Industries, we have begun the Luthor's Halfway House initiative. The homes will provide a safe place for disenfranchised youth of both sexes and all genders to sleep and eat. With the cooperation of the state, local charities, and nearby hospitals we will be able to provide these children not only with proper medication and regular check ups, but with necessary psychiatric treatment and therapy to help them cope with their situations. The hope is that these homes will only be but a pit stop. A safe place for them until they can be placed into loving foster families or adopted into permanent homes." Another cheer and Billy was ready to puke.

"We chose to start our efforts in Fawcett City for one reason. This city has the highest number of homeless children in the country. But it is not the only city. We have failed our children. No more. Within a few months, more Halfway Houses will be built around the country. Including in my own city of Metropolis." Right. Because he was just so concerned about the welfare of children. Never mind all the positive press this would give him. Billy sneered. Luthor's stocks were probably doubling with just this corny speech.

"Now, without further ado, I'd like to present my esteemed colleague and friend, for the ceremonial ribbon cutting, Dr. Sivana." What was it with being rich and bald? Dr. Sivana was a bespectacled older gentleman that looked like he had crawled out of a B-rated sci-fi horror movie. Compared to the younger, charisma oozing Lex, Dr. Sivana was a short stick of a man. The giant scissors in his hands didn't help his image at all. He quietly shuffled towards the doors and snipped, sparking another thunderous applause. With the way people were cheering, one could have easily thought it was their home that had just been opened. Instead, the true tenants sat in the middle of the rucus clapping sullenly, save for a few of the younger and more naive among them. The rest knew better. Billy knew better. Miracles don't come for free.

Despite the pretense of the ribbon cutting, the ceremony was far from over. Several of the more optimistic kids from the crowd gave speeches and various dignitaries offered their thoughts to the crowd. Billy melted further into his chair with every new speech. Many of the boys passed the time through silent games, making various hand gestures and faces at each other. On the final speech, Billy joined in, miming the words in the most ridiculous manner he could think of. The boys around him snickered, and the next kid picked up the game.

Billy watched with an amused smirk as he absentmindedly picked at the bandaid on the crook of his elbow. All of the boys sported similar marks. Part of the deal for living in the home was they all had to have checkups, shots, blood tests, and a psychological evaluation. Some trite about ensuring the communal health of the home. If it wasn't for the judge's orders, he wouldn't have bothered to put up with any of it.

After the speeches came dinner. Dinner wasn't so bad. Despite the cameras and social workers, he actually found himself enjoying the food. Roasted chicken. Dry. Steamed vegetables. Mushy. Mashed potatoes. Hard. As well as a salad full of mushrooms and beans for some odd reason. But all things considered, it was leagues better than his normal dinner of a stale bag of chips or stolen donuts. Billy barely chewed as he shoveled everything he could into his gaping mouth. His belly was a distended mess by the time the dinner was completed.

At last, the ceremony was over. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet and followed the line of boys into the building. The whole complex was set up like a jail house. Identical rooms with four identical bunks and matching dressers filled each room. Billy made his way to the third floor and chose a room next to the staircase. Two boys were already inside the room. Billy half-heartedly waved to them and they just shrugged back. They looked to be about four or five years older than him and a good foot taller too. Fourteen if he had to guess. Turning, Billy chose a bunk on the other side of the room; as far away from them as possible.

"Top bunks mine!" Billy jumped. Standing in the doorway was a skinny boy around his age. His dark skin was only rivaled by the thick, black mesh of hair that extended about two inches from his skull. He wore a baggy green tee and khakis. Billy blinked at him.

"What?"

"I said, top bunk's mine. I called dibs." The boy strode into the room and patted the pole. The two teens snickered. Billy glanced incredulously at the bunk and considered arguing. It wasn't like all the beds were full yet, so didn't matter all that much. But dibs were dibs.

"Whatever," Billy shrugged. He half fell onto the mattress and the springs practically bounced him back to his feet. Billy's nails dug into the stiff sheets. "I don't mind bottom."

"Great!" The other boy clamored into the top bunk and dangled his head over the side. "Name's Scott Cooper. Eleven. Oh! And I snore. Hope you don't mind."

"Billy Batson. Ten. And I'll kick you if you snore."

"So I'll snore louder." Scott squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to snore. Billy pushed his face away, but that only seemed to encourage Scott. He leaned over farther and snored even louder. Slobber dribbled down his cheek.

"Grrooosss," Billy laughed.

"You're face is gross." Scott teased.

"Yeah, well your shirt is gross."

"That doesn't count. Everyone's shirt is gross."

"Hey, morons. Shut up." Billy shot a glare at the teens and Scott frowned.

"It's a free country." said Scott.

"It's a free country," one of the teens mockingly parroted.

"So I guess that means I'm free to rearrange your face." The other proclaimed as he took a few steps forward. Billy got to his feet. "You got something to say?"

"Back off. That's the only warning you get." said Billy. Suddenly, a punch blindsided Billy and knocked him to his knees. He staggered as he stood, fist raised to retaliate, but the two teens were already out the door. Billy spat and went back to his bunk.

"Hey man, you alright?" Billy just nodded as he gingerly touched the bruise. Both boys changed quietly. Slowly, the tension eased and they continued to converse back and forth for the next few hours as a couple other kids joined the room. The two teens didn't come back. Eventually, lights out was called and all the kids settled down for bed. Billy laid in his bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the indent that Scott made.

"Hey, Scott." Billy whispered. No response. "Scott!" A grunt. "Why did you come here?"

"Because..." Scott trailed off. Billy propped himself up with his elbows as he strained to listen. "I wanted a bed. My dad got locked up and my mom's not around so… I got stuck in a foster home that was..." He didn't need to continue. Billy rolled over onto his side and peered at nothing through the darkness. "So, I was living in this condemned building on Windsor with a bunch of potheads when I heard about this place. You?"

"Judge." There was a creak and Billy saw the outline of Scott's head.

"Really?" Scott asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

"Yeah, really." Billy sighed. "It was stupid too. Apparently me sleeping in a decommissioned subway station is trespassing. I think the judge was just trying to 'help.'" Billy scoffed.

"But it's not so bad. I mean, free food. New clothes. A bed."

"Yeah, but what's the catch?" Billy snapped.

"Catch?" Scott sounded genuinely confused. "Why does there have to be a catch?"

"Because there is always a catch. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is." Scott pulled himself upright and his head disappeared again. Billy sneered and turned towards the wall.

"Not always. My Dad always says that if you are good, good things will come to you. Seems to me like this is my good thing."

He wanted to snap at Scott. To point out that Scott's Dad was in jail or say something that would get him to just shut up. Instead, Billy just mumbled. "Whatever."

Billy awoke the next day to a pillow in the face. He scrambled away from the sudden intrusion, eyes wide open. Scott stood in front of him, already dressed. "Get up. I'm not gonna be late just cause you won't wake up." Billy looked over to the nearby clock and it read seven am.

"Dude. We've got like… an hour and a half till school. Go back to bed." Scott, unperturbed, grabbed Billy and dragged him onto the floor. "Alright, alright. I get it, I'm up." With a yawn, he followed Scott down the hall and into the bathroom. It was a standard bathroom with four stalls, four urinals, and four sinks. There was a separated section that lead to a series of curtains that Billy assumed were the showers. Cabinets lined one wall of the communal bathroom. Each one had a name tag just above the handle. Several of the cabinets already had the names of various boys scrawled in permanent marker. A basket with markers sat on the nearby sink.

Billy grabbed a marker and stood next to Scott, who had already claimed a cabinet. A few quick strokes and Billy owned the one next to Scotts. Inside the cabinet was a whole series of goodies. Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, body soap, shampoo, a towel, and various other toiletry items were stacked inside. With one more yawn, he reached for his toothbrush and started to turn towards the sinks when Scott's frozen face caught his attention.

"Hey what..." Billy trailed off as he saw inside Scott's cabinet. The inside was covered in a brown, unmistakable paste. Nothing was clean. Billy's face grew hot and his fists clenched so hard that his nails left deep imprints in his palms. Billy began to march out of the bathroom when Scott caught his arm.

"Don't. It's not worth it." The sadness in Scott's gaze was like a needle to a balloon.

"But… but!" Billy said, deflated. With a click of his tongue, he shoved his toothbrush and paste into Scott's arms. Scott attempted to give them back, but Billy just grabbed his towel instead. "We can share, alright. I've got the shower first."

Despite having to take turns, both boys were among the first of the elementary aged kids downstairs. Most of the high schoolers and middle schoolers were already heading out the door or scarfing down the last remnants of their breakfast. Billy grabbed a bowl of cereal and a muffin while Scott reached for an orange to go with his own bowl. As they took their seats at a table, Billy examined his muffin.

"What? You afraid it's gonna bite you?" Scott jeered.

"No. I'm just wondering how long they are gonna keep this up."

"I give them a month." A middle schooler stood next to Billy and smiled. He held out his hand and added, "Lino." Billy took the offered hand and shook.

"Billy. And that's Scott. Also, ten days tops." Lino shook his head.

"No way. They gotta look good for the press. There's a few interviewing a group of kids outside."

"How much you wanna bet?" Billy said as he leaned back. Lino thought about it for a moment.

"Ten dollars."

"You're on." Billy said instantly, but Lino held up his hand.

"You've got the money right?" Billy scowled, but Scott cut in before he could snap.

"If he doesn't, I do." Lino shrugged and walked away. Billy looked over at Scott who had returned to peeling his orange. A neat swirl of peel folded away as he ran his finger over the flesh.

"You didn't have to do that." Scott just pulled loose a slice and handed it to Billy.

"Good things." Scott replied cheerfully.

If there was one nice thing about waking up so early, it was that he could actually sit back and enjoy his breakfast. Even then, Scott still insisted that they leave for school early. It was a good fifteen minute walk, but Billy didn't really see the point in being early. That was, until the reporter stopped them. Billy and Scott found themselves face to face with a black haired woman in small heels and a purple suit. Her red lips smiled at them, but her eyes were like a hawk. Her male partner was talking to another boy nearby.

"Hello," she chimed. "Lois Lane of the Daily Planet. Do you mind if I ask you two a few questions."

"Yes," Billy said as he pushed past her. Scott hurried after him, but not before muttering a quick apology to her.

"Hang on." Lois called as she clopped up to them. Billy sped up and Scott scurried behind him. "Wait just a-" She trailed off. Billy glanced back just long enough to make sure that she wasn't following.

They made it to school with plenty of time to spare. Billy and Scott hung out on the playground, putting the construction to the test as they clamored all over anything that was remotely climbable. By the time homeroom started, Billy had a scrape on his knee and Scott's elbow was bleeding. They collapsed into their assigned chairs and the lessons began.

Lunch time came and went without any issue. They changed classrooms and sat down to a new teacher who introduced herself as their arithmetic teacher. Billy groaned and his head flopped onto the table. He didn't even bother to take his book out. The teacher jumped right into the lesson and Billy propped his head on his hand and stared out the window.

"Billy Batson." She called. Billy glanced at her and his eyes went wide as he saw the problems scrawled onto the whiteboard. One kid was already at the board and was struggling through the question. "You are in charge of question two." Billy leaned back in his chair and placed on foot on the desk. He folded his arms across his chest and stuck his chin into the air. "Mr. Batson. Question two if you please."

"Well, I don't please." Billy replied tersely. His words sharp and loud enough for the entire class to hear. All eyes turned to him.

"Mr. Batson, question two. Now." Her voice left no room for negotiation.

"And if I say no?"

"Than you can march yourself to the principal's office." Billy slammed his hand on the desk and stood up. He glared at the teacher who returned the expression in kind. "Now." Billy stormed, not just out of the room, but out of the school. His face was like fire and his scowl could have soured unripened fruit. He stampeded towards town. Billy's pace became blinding as buildings grew denser and shops began to pop up. By the time he reached the subway entrance, his chest was heaving and sweat dripped down his back.

Billy's legs were blurs. His feet bounced down the uneven steps while his hands focused on the railing to keep himself from tumbling into the concrete. Each collision echoed down and into the earth. At the bottom he made a beeline for the ticket machines. He pounded against the screen while he imputed his destination: the station closest to his old haunt. Yet, when he went to feed the machine, it whirled and spit back every dollar without hesitation. Billy pounded his fists against the metal and the skin on his knuckles popped. Blood beaded against his pale hand before it began to run. He scowled. Billy rubbed the raw skin on his pants and forced a sigh. One more time.

Success. He had his ticket and was through the gate. A few scattered individuals trailed through the hallways and barely even glanced his way as they went on with their busy lives. The platform, however, was empty. Billy bounced on his heels as he gazed down the dark corridor, waiting for the light of the cars. The subway didn't disappoint. In just a few minutes, the car pulled to a screeching stop and the automatic doors swung open. A familiar voice drawled instructions, telling him to wait for the nonexistent passengers to exit the cars before boarding. With one more sigh, he took a seat by the rail and the doors closed.

Billy slouched quietly with his hands in his folded on his lap. "You've really outdone yourself Batson," he murmured. Was playing hookie enough to get him thrown into a correctional facility? If not, his return to the abandoned station probably was. "Whatever," he answered with a kick to the nearby poll. With a shake of his head, he turned his gaze towards the window and absentmindedly gazed into the black abyss.

"This is the last stop. Please exit the car." What? Billy got to his feet. This was not the last stop. It shouldn't have been the last stop. "This is the last stop." the voice repeated.

Billy tentatively exited the car. Instead of a subway station, he found himself in a grand hall. Deep carmine tiles lined the floors and gold laced pillars held up the rocky ceiling. Blue crystal streaks crackled through the stone like lightning. To his left was a great mural. Figures were carved out of the stone. Nearly naked men and women in ancient clothing toiled beneath a glaring sun. A kingly figure with an egyptian crown had his hand extended outwards, pointing towards a half formed pyramid. A man cowered beneath his feet, with a young boy between them. The boy's hands were stretched out as if he were protecting the man. In the next scene, lighting descended onto the boy and he stood strong in its embrace. It was the pharaoh's turn to cower. The rest of the mural was broken, shattered and scattered on the floor. So Billy turned his attention to the other side of the room.

Along the right wall were seven stone statues. Each one vastly different from the others. Some tall, some short. Some fat, some thin. Beneath each one was a word: Pride, Envy, Greed, Anger, Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust. Classy.

On the far wall, there was a simple stone throne. Much like the ceiling, it too had the cracks of sapphire stone. Perched on the throne was a man. His body was as wrinkled as the crimson robes that he wore. His hair stretched down his neck and blended into a beard that hugged his chest. One hand propped his cheek up while the other arm cradled a golden staff. His sunken eyes bore into Billy as if they could see into his very soul.

"Holy moley..." Billy shivered. Forget this. He did a complete 180, only to find himself face to face with a wall. Not even a trace of the subway remained. Billy balked and stepped away as his eyes darted across the rock. "This is not happening..." He half turned back to the old man who continued to observe in silence. Billy frowned. His eyes narrowed and took a deep breath. You got this Batson.

"So when's the next train?" The old man's expression didn't change. He simply stared and contemplated. Billy strode towards the ancient bag of bones, each step echoing through the chamber in a thousand different directions. "Who's your decorator? I'd like to never hire him. Ever." No reaction. Billy bit his lip, but continued his approach.

"Does being snide and spiteful make you happy?" asked the old man. Billy halted.

"What?" The old man waved his hands and windows of light danced around the room. They reflected images of Billy, of his life. Flickering instances of friends and acquaintances long forgotten. The image of a girl with brown ringlets in her hair giggling beneath nine candles as she unwrapped golden coins. His first foster home filled to the brim with kids who had to look after each other while the adults went of fantastic vacations without them. Him leaping off a couch with a red cape and a hand drawn S scrawled onto his shirt. The angry face of a man as he held up a bat. The stolen tent he had called home in the forgotten subway station.

Billy could only bare a momentary glance at each frame. Some he knew too well, others were almost foreign. Until he fixated on one image in particular. A man and a woman, smiling. They held out a stuffed tiger, laughing as they wiggled it. Without thinking, Billy reached out to them, only to have his finger pass through their grins. The image shifted and he saw a car crushed beneath a flood of rocks and mud. Billy shrieked and backed away.

"You hide so much pain behind your scowl." All of the images changed to show his own face. Some were red hot as he yelled, screamed, or punched darkened figures. Other windows showed him huddled in a corner, secreted away beneath his blankets, or hidden out of sight. Each one had tears. Billy could feel his own eyes water up. He furiously rubbed his eyes with his palm, stopping them before they could start.

"Yet," the old man continued, "You cannot escape your heart." Once more, the windows flashed. Billy saw Scott standing before his bathroom cubby. He saw himself give a homeless man the only change in his pocket. Pictures of his fights with older boys pulled out to show younger children with bruises on their faces. Many showed him offering his dinner to hollow cheeked children or those whom he shared foster houses with.

"What's your point grandpa?" Billy snapped. At last, the old man's expression changed. His lips turned up into a half smile and with a wave of his arm, the lights disappeared and the room turned back to normal.

"You, Billy Batson, have something special. You have shown kindness despite your own pain. You give with honest generosity despite having so little yourself. Although you are far from perfect, at the end of the day you have a good heart and a kind soul." Billy's frown deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest. He jutted his chin out and puffed himself up. "Despite, what you might want others to think." The old man added with a chuckle.

Billy's mouth flapped wordlessly several times. He had a million things to say and couldn't find the words. So, Billy defaulted. "Stalking is illegal." With a shake of his head, the old man stood. He hobbled away from his throne, moving slowly as he leaned heavily on his staff. Billy stood his ground, only to balk as the old man gently rested one wrinkled hand on his shoulder. With a grunt, the old man kneeled down so that they were eye level. Up close, Billy nearly drowned in the old man's eyes. They were like still pools, reflecting everything they saw with truth and the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes. It was suffocating.

"Billy, I ask you to be serious now and listen to my words carefully. I have a gift for you. Originally, I had hoped to wait until you were older. I wanted to know what kind of man you would grow into before bestowing this upon you. But my time is running out. Our time. So it is with great reluctance that I give this to you now."

"Why would you give me anything? Who are you?" Disbelief colored Billy's questions. Disbelief and suspicion.

"Because I have been watching you. Not just you, but a thousand other candidates. Yet, you are the only one who possess the qualities needed to become earth's mightiest mortal and take up the mantle of its protector. I am the Wizard Shazam. Speak my name and you will be bestowed with the power of the gods themselves. The wisdom of Solomon. The strength of Hercules. The stamina of Atlas. The power of Zeus. The courage of Achilles. The speed of Mercury."

Billy pulled away from the Wizard, shrugging the old man's hand off his shoulders. "Hang on. Gods? Let's just say for one second I believe you. Which I don't." Billy huffed as he tried to gaze at anywhere other than at the Wizard. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend I paid attention in English class or anything, but I did watch Disney. Hercules and Achilles are only demigods. Plus, I've never even heard of you." He jutted a finger at the Wizard.

"Fiction often mirrors reality, but it is the details where they diverge." Billy gave Shazam an incredulous look.

"What? Like a cosmic game of Telephone? This is nuts. You're nuts. I'm outta here." Billy tossed his hands into the air and turned away, although he wasn't exactly sure where he was planning to go. But instead of rock he found himself facing a flight of stairs. Balking, Billy whirled around to find a subway platform behind him. There was no evidence of the throne room or the Wizard. His breath caught and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. A piercing sound clawed at his brain. Billy clapped his hands over his ears. Yet the screech persisted until he heard the old man's voice echo inside his mind. "When you are in need of help, speak my name."

Quiet returned. Billy rubbed his ears and stood up. "Yeah. Right…"

It was two days before anyone from the home found him. Billy thought it would be a cop or a social worker. He hadn't expected Lino. The older boy took each step lazily, taking his sweet time. Billy watched his progress from a bench. Neither said a word.

Lino plopped down on the bench next to Billy and the rusted metal creaked in complaint. Neither of them minded it. Silence stretched between them for what felt like an eternity until Lino softly shattered it.

"Couple o' kids got picked up by fosters." Billy said nothing. "Not just the younger boys. Older ones too… Cops are asking after you. Not the social workers though. Kinda odd but-"

"Why are you here?"

"Because I promised Scott." Billy straightened and stared at Lino. "He got picked up yesterday. Some older couple. But he made me promise to find you."

Billy looked away again and his gaze fell to his feet. Silence returned for a few awkward minutes. Finally, Lino rose to his feet and held out a hand towards Billy. "C'mon. It's pizza night." Billy let his wrist fall into Lino's palm and limply followed the older boy back to the home. None of the staff said anything as they returned and Billy was handed a slice without a second glance. All of his stuff remained where he had left it. His name was still scrawled on his box. But the one next to his had a fresh label. Billy's gaze wavered as he stared at the white sheet and a stone formed in the pit of his stomach. He returned to his room and discovered that the bed above his was neatly made and cold. Two more boys were adopted the next morning.

Billy found himself waking up at seven despite himself. He joined Lino for breakfast and picked at his food in sullen silence until the older boy left for school. The dining room was mostly empty. The seats waited for the next group of kids to arrive. Billy tapped his spoon on his half filled bowl before leaving it there. He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged out the door. Only to find the reporter waiting for him.

"Where's your friend?" She asked.

"Gone."

With that, Billy turned on his heels and went back inside. But not before he heard her mutter, "You have no idea." The doors shut behind him, but Billy couldn't help but look back. Of course, all he saw was wood. He hurried out to the back door and hopped the fence. He landed in the alley and crept towards the front of the building. When the reporters came into view he ducked behind the garbage bin. And so, he waited.

They continued to try and interview the other boys until one of the employees chased them away. Billy knelt in the shadows and watched the reporters pass by him without a second glance. He counted to ten and then stepped out into the street.

"I don't know Clark. I can't help but wonder if maybe we are wrong about this." She mused as they walked. The man, Clark, peered at her through his glasses with more than a hint of distaste in his expression.

"You know as well as I do that's not the case."

"But we have no evidence! Heck, as far as I can tell, these homes are actually doing some good." Clark stared at her for a moment and she stopped to glare back at him. Billy ducked into another alley and strained his ears. "What?"

"Lex Luthor doesn't do anything out of the kindness of his heart. You know that. I know that."

"Then tell me Clark, what's the angle? What does he get out of building a bunch of homes for orphans? How does finding them families help him?" There was a sigh.

"I… I haven't figured that out yet."

Billy leaned his head against the wall, knocking the back a few times as he tried to think. He bit his lip and his nails slid painfully across the stone. Billy pushed himself away from the building and made his way to the nearby park. A creeping sense of dread curled into the pit of his stomach and like a stone, sat. Waiting. Growing with each passing minute and lingering step. The hours ticked by until finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Billy rose from his seat in the swings and strode back to the halfway house where he found the first staff member he could.

She was one of the day workers. A tall woman with a hooked nose and neck too long for her body. She cupped a stack of papers in her hand as she strode towards the offices. Billy fell in step with her, but she didn't seem to acknowledge his presence. Billy cleared his throat. Nothing.

"Excuse me." She halted.

"Can I help you?" Her smile and cheery tone were so forced that they made artificial light seem natural.

"Yeah. I want to call one of my friends. Scott. Scott Cooper."

"So call him." she responded tersely and began to walk again. Billy took a couple quick steps to catch up to her, cutting her off. Her heels clicked to a halt. She had stopped smiling.

"Thing is, he got adopted."

"Well, good for him." She tried to walk around him, but Billy shifted to block her path.

"Yeah, well, I don't know the number for his new foster family. Where do I get it?"

"That is none of your concern young man." Billy's face twisted in disgust. He despised being called that. Yet, his distaste only seemed to make her puff up. "The halfway home is not at liberty to disclose such information to young men like yourself. If your friend did not give you his number than perhaps he did not want you to talk to him. Have you thought of that?" She knocked Billy aside with her hand and shuffled past him. Billy stuck his tongue out at her back.

Fine, he thought. I'll get it myself.

Once the clock struck two-thirty, the older boys started filing back into the halfway house. Finding two willing conspirators was easy. He ended up trading away his Victor Stone uniform shirt, but it was well worth it. Billy made his way to the office. It was a rather spacious room, filled with various desks, each with its own computer. File cabinets lined one wall and a photocopier sat next to them. A few medium sized windows let light into the otherwise stagnant room. A large man sat behind one of the desks. He looked up at Billy and stood with the same forced smile all adults seemed to have.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. See, there is this after school program I want to join, but it requires a signature from my parent or guardian." Billy lied. "So, I was wondering who I had to talk too about that."

"No problem. You-"

Crash. Shouts came from the hallway as the sound of chaos erupted. Right on time, Billy thought.

"Stay right here," said the clerk and he was out the door, shouting at the boys who could be heard recklessly fighting not far away. Billy jumped into action. He headed straight for the cabinets. Each one was labeled and well organized. Within seconds, Billy had located Scott's file and yanked the papers from the folder. He tucked the whole thing under his shirt and snuck out the door. A ring of boys sat at one end of the hallway. Between them, Billy could see his two new friends duking it out as a couple of adults tried to separate them. One of the fighting boys, a redhead with a scar on his cheek, spotted Billy through the crowd. Billy nodded and the redhead allowed the staff to end the fight. But by that time, Billy was already well on his way down the other end of the hallway.

He took the file and made his way to the nearby coffee shop. It was crowded with local teens and overtired adults who worked steadily on their laptops or nursed tall cups of iced coffee. Billy settled into a seat in the back where he placed the file on the small table before him. The file wasn't very large, but it wasn't exactly a light read either. The first page had Scotts face plastered right at the top. It listed everything. Not just his name and date of birth, but his previous homes and school records. Billy flipped through the sheets until he found newly printed adoption papers. Adopted? Not fostered?

The Miles family had made Scott their newest member. According to the sheet, they lived in the suburbs of Fawcett. At least a twenty minute car ride and much, much longer by bus. But the paperwork also listed their contact information. Billy glanced up and looked around the shop. Two women sat a few tables down and talked merrily to each other.

"That's wonderful Linda!" Said the first woman. She was slightly heavy-set, but her clothing labeled her as a middle class woman. Her auburn hair draped neatly down her shoulders and she was gaily patting her friend's hand in congratulations. Linda, a shorter woman with dark skin, was positively beaming.

"Riley screamed when I told her she was going to be a big sister. Casey, will you be the godmother again?"

'"You don't even have to ask."

With a roll of his eyes, Billy stood and quickly flattened his hair. He strode over to the two women with his hands clasped behind his back and put on the best angel face he could conjure. "Excuse me." Both women glanced up at him. "Um, can I borrow a phone? Mine died and I need to call my mother."

"Of course," said Linda and she quickly dove into her purse. She produced a smart phone and unlocked it before handing it to Billy. "Take your time dear."

"Thank you!" Billy replied and went back to his table. Sliding into the seat, he punched in the number and let it ring. On the fifth ring, there was an answer.

"Hello?" A man.

"Is this Mr. Miles?"

"It is. Who is this?" Billy sat upright in his chair and smiled, despite knowing that his "good kid" face had no effect over the phone.

"Hi, my name's Billy. I'm a friend of Scott's. Can I talk to him?"

"Sorry," he replied just a little too quickly. "Scott is at school right now." Billy looked up at the cafe clock. 3:15.

"He should be home soon right?" There was a pause.

"No, he won't be home for a while. He has football practice. But I can take a message for you if you'd like."

"Yeah, sure. Just let him know that I called and he should call me back at the home."

"Alright. Will do. Goodbye." Click. Billy stared at the phone and tried to ignore the stone in his stomach. He handed the phone back to the women with a quick thank you. Once he was back at the home, Billy scribbled the phone number onto a sheet of paper and returned the file that night. But not without getting caught by the janitor on his way out and being told off for sneaking around. Billy took the scolding without complaint and went back to bed.

Over the next few days, he went to school as he was supposed to and every day, he tried again. Billy once called at nine o'clock, only to be told that Scott was "unavailable." For a kid that just got adopted, Scott was suspiciously busy. The conversation that he had overheard from the reporters kept echoing in the back of his mind. Like a broken record, it fed the rock that caused his stomach to sink further and further.

Billy found himself lying awake at night as paranoia and imagination lustfully twisted together until his waking dreams were filled with horrors. He tossed and turned. Trying to get the fanciful images out of his head. But every time he tried to rationalize the situation, it quickly snowballed out of control. It wasn't long before Billy found himself sneaking back into the office. One of the younger boys was more than happy to pretend to have a meltdown in the hallway for him. Once again, Billy found himself racing against the clock as he pulled random files from the adopted and fostered sections. He scribbled down half a dozen phone numbers, names, and addresses.

Billy hastily shoved the files back into the drawers. He started to leave when a paper caught his eye. Or rather, the name on the paper: Sivana Industries. Billy glanced nervously at the door. Shuddering sobs erupted from the other side. Damn, that kid was good. Billy turned his attention back to the paper. It was a memo. From the Sivana Industries Genetics Research and Development group no less. Billy snatched the page and shoved it into his pocket before quietly slipping out the door.

Instead of heading to the coffee shop, Billy made his way to the school. It was after hours, but the library and its phones were still open. His first stop was the phone. It was an old dial phone with a pay slot that had been rendered useless. Billy dialed the first number and scanned the name he had written down. It rang three times and then a woman picked up the phone.

"Anders residence."

"Hi," Billy replied cheerfully. "I was wondering if I could speak to… Alex."

"Who is this?"

"I'm a friend from the halfway home."

"Oh," she replied without any hint of emotion. "I'm sorry, but he's busy. I'll let him know you called. Take care now." Click.

Billy frowned at the receiver. "Well, goodbye to you too." He tried the next number with the same result. And the next. They all had the same story. None of the boys were "available," but their new guardian would be sure to let them know he had called. Billy slammed the phone onto the hook and marched towards the library.

The library wasn't very large. Unlike typical libraries, this one had half of its books sectioned off by reading level. The other half were non-fiction books and were ordered in the usual manner. A row of old computers lined the right wall while the front left corner was devoted to the Librarian. He sat behind the desk, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he typed away at the keyboard. Of course, he glanced up the second Billy entered the room.

"It's after school son. I'm sorry, but the library is closed." He said apologetically. Billy shuffled over to his desk.

"I have a research project that I need to work on."

"You'll have to come back tomorrow."

"But," Billy replied in a heartbroken tone. "It's due in three days!"

"I'm sorry. But you can't use the library after school unless you have a note from your teacher. You'll have to make due with your parents computer until tomorrow." Billy ducked his head and let a crocodile tear fall down his cheek.

"I don't have parents… and the orphanage doesn't have computers."

"Oh..." The Library glanced at the door and made a quick sweep of the room. "Alright. But just for today. Tomorrow you'll need a note." Billy nodded as he wiped away the tear. He thanked the Librarian and made his way to a computer out of the man's sight. With one quick yank, he pulled out the paper and slid into the chair. Billy scanned the memo, his eyes flicking over the message.

It was a list of four names and what looked like test results. Glucose level, vitamin B12. folic acid, hemoglobin, etc. Each word had an associated number. At the bottom of the page was a set of dietary instructions. Different kinds of foods and drinks that should be offered during meal times. The last line caught Billy's eye.

Subjects tests should be within the normal standard deviations by the end of the month.

What was that supposed to mean? Billy placed the paper down and woke up the computer. He dove into the internet, tying in 'Sivana Industries Genetics Research and Development' into the google bar. A list of articles sprang onto the page and Billy began to sift through them. Most of them went over his head. It was mainly research papers. At the very top of the page was a link to the official company website. A few of the links were news articles mentioned metahuman genome research or some new gene therapy that the company had developed. Many spoke of Sivana's involvement in the opening of the Halfway Homes.

Billy spent the next couple of hours sifting through as much as he could handle. By the time his stomach began to growl, his brain was thoroughly fried. Billy's head thunked against the keyboard and he let out a groan. The screen flashed and he found himself staring at the Sivana website again. Billy sighed. Resigning himself to a fruitless day, he lifted his head and copied down the building's address before he shut the computer down. He gave the Librarian one more thanks as he headed out the door and lumbered back to the halfway house. He didn't sleep a wink that night.

Dark bags lingered under Billy's eyes the next day and like a good little boy, he slept through all of his classes. Not that his teachers protested. At least he was in school. Heck, he even managed to get a library pass from one of the teachers. The words "catching up" acted almost like magic.

Google and google street view were quickly becoming Billy's best friends. Even though his hacking skills were absolutely nonexistent, he was at least able to figure out parts of the Sivana Industries building. By stitching the pictures together, he carefully drew a crude map of the outside and a few of the inside rooms. Of course, his map was mostly composed of guesswork and question marks. But at least he had figured out his plan of attack. The back, employee entrance seemed to have a camera on it. But the front was open to the public. Billy had it all planned out.

"Just gotta walk into the door and claim I'm waiting for my dad. Then after a few minutes, ask for the restroom and bam! I'm in. Too easy." Billy leaned back and gave his diagram a cocky grin. He packed up his things and tossed the Librarian a hasty thank you before heading home. His head was high and he practically skipped all the way back to the halfway home.

Billy made it two steps inside the home before he was cut off by one of the staff members. It was the same woman from before. The one he had asked about Scott. She still wore the same false smile and a file was cradled in her arms. Billy balked when he caught a glimpse of his own name behind her hand.

"Welcome back, Billy." She chimed. "We have a pair of guests today who would very much like to meet you." She beckoned towards the hallway with the staff room. There was something in her gaze that made him hesitate. So she put her hand on his back and began to steer him towards the office. "Don't be shy now. Today is your lucky day!"

They entered the office and there was a man and a woman sitting in a pair of chairs before one of the desks. They both looked to be in their early thirties. The man had dark hair and an easy smile as he sat in his business suit. The woman next to him wore a tight blond braid that she had wrapped into a bun at the base of her neck. She wore an expensive looking suit as well with a pair of flats on her feet. Her own smile seemed to mimic her, what Billy could only assume to be, husband. A third, empty chair was placed next to them. The staff woman pushed Billy into the empty chair and took her own seat behind the desk.

"Billy," she said with a wave of her hand. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Maller."

"We've heard so much about you Billy." said Mrs. Maller. Billy raised an eyebrow.

"How?" Both of the Mallers laughed.

"Well, your profile for a start. And Ms. Schlecht here told us the rest." replied Mr. Maller. "So-" he placed his hand on his wife's and they both looked at each other lovingly for a moment. Billy suddenly felt the urge to vomit.

"We'd like you to be a part of our family. What do you say?" Mrs. Maller finished.

"I think this would be a great match for you Billy." Ms. Schlecht added, not giving Billy a even a second to reply. "They have a large, luxurious home in the suburbs with a big yard and an excellent private school nearby. There is a forest with a small park that you can go explore and play in. Not to mention that your friend Scott lives very close to them. Just a simple car ride away." Billy's heart skipped a beat. Both of the Mallers were nodding and smiling sweetly at him.

For the next half hour, he was simply talked to. Never allowed to get a word out. All he could do was nod as they bounced from one sentence to the next. One moment, they were talking about themselves and how much he'd love to live with them and the next papers were being signed and they were talking about transferring him to some pompous private school. He didn't have time to argue.

After a whirlwind of papers, Billy found himself being swept out of the office with all of his things, meager as they were, already packed for him. He was stuffed inside the back of a minivan and off he was with his new foster parents to the Fawcett suburbs. Billy felt excited, horror struck, and terrified all at the same time. It was all he could do to just sit numbly in the backseat, doing his best to ignore the rock in his stomach, as they drove through the city streets. His thoughts kept going back to Scott.

"Oh Billy," Mr. Maller called to him from the front seat. "I hope you don't mind, but I have to stop by my work before we head home. It will only take a few minutes." Billy could only nod as a knot tightened in his chest.

Five minutes later, and the car slowed to a crawl while it passed by a familiar looking building. Tall, proud letters stretched across the roof with the words: Sivana Industries Genetics Research and Development. Billy's jaw dropped as they pulled into the parking garage. Oh man, talk about luck! He didn't even have to lie now for his plan to work. Billy was practically patting himself on the back as Mr. Maller parked the car.

"Wait here," he said and climbed out the driver's door. Mrs. Maller climbed out of her own door, but Billy was too lost in thought to hear her door close. Or his own open. The next thing he knew, she was smiling broadly at him.

"Night, night." She cooed. Before he could react, she slammed his head against the driver's seat and the world went black.