Walking through the streets of South Side Fawcett City late in the night is not a bright move on my part, but I couldn't take being in the orphanage any longer, nor could I get any sleep. Well, not consistent sleep that is.
I appreciate what the staff and kids did for me the other night, but my birthday has never been a happy time. I was able to enjoy myself for about an hour or so before the cake was brought out. Everybody singing happy birthday to me reminded me of my parents and I had to leave and go to my room before I broke down in front of everybody. I at the very least held myself together long enough to blow out the candles so everybody could eat while I quietly snuck off to grieve. Mary noticed, and followed me for awhile, urging me to let her in so I wouldn't be alone. At some point I wanted to yell at her, but couldn't bring myself to do it so I ignored her pleas until eventually she apologized for bothering me, and hoped I felt better. I cried for an hour, and than cleaned myself up and went back to eat the Chocolate cake they got me. The flavour was dulled by my grief, the festivities hollowed by the memory of the only two people I wanted most to be celebrating with me. Yet I forged through it all for the sake of the kids more than anybody else.
There were various points through the day where I had to sneak off and weep a bit. One time Mary caught me again, and looked unsure of what to do. I caved and beckoned her over. She hugged me tight, which normally makes me uncomfortable, but I was too tired to even dwell on that. Eventually, we both ended up back at the party, and when night fell, we started cleaning up and getting ready for movie night. They asked me what I wanted to watch, and I delegated that option to Zoe, since she was going to be taken to a new home the next day. She picked Shriek, which everybody seemed alright with. Hell, it's even one of my favourites. Unfortunately, the emotional turmoil was wearing on me, so I ended up sneaking off and going to my room to sleep.
Sleep was restless of course, though it wasn't due to the usual nightmares. This time it was just a weird dream that felt extremely real. I found myself flying through space of all things, looking for something. I wasn't sure what, but I kept saying "I'll know when I get there". I may have been talking to somebody. Though looking around I didn't see anyone. I remember passing different planets, moons, asteroids, and stars of various colours. I even remember seeing three stars in orbit around a black hole. Once I made it to the trinary system with a black hole, I saw something, and went to go fetch it. I don't know what it was, but I clearly felt an urgency to go retrieve it. I never got close enough to see it because I ended up seeing a large grey and black hand come out of a red portal and wrap itself around the object and the star alike, before waking up sweating.
I couldn't get back to sleep after that. I've never had a dream about going to space before. I always thought it would be cool if I could, but never have I dreamed about it. Nor have I dreamed about giant hands grabbing stars out of a freaking portal and dragging them in. It was all so weird. Regardless, I was having trouble returning to sleep, and decided to throw on a coat and my shoes before heading outside for a walk.
Normally I dream about my parents, but I should be glad, I suppose, that I didn't have that dream this time. The worst nightmare of that day are always had on the night of my birthday. Like some cruel punishment for surviving. A reminder that I'm alone and it happened on the day that, according to everybody else, is cause for celebration of life. Despite it being a day of death for me.
I breathe in the night air as I wander aimlessly through the streets of the South Side. I want to go to the graveyard my parents are berried, but it's on the other side of town, and the bus drivers are on strike. I have no money for a cab, so I'm just walking around, lost in thought.
"AAAA-!" A scream of terror is briefly heard through the streets, before it's abruptly cut short. I look around, and realize that I've wondered into the East Side of town without noticing and start kicking myself for not paying attention.
Being here between seven in the evening and midnight is bad enough, but it's currently 2am and what I just heard is definitely somebody being attacked.
"Stupid bitch." That came from the alley across the street. It's dark, lit only by the lights that are trying to pear around the corner from the streets. Keeping me from seeing clearly what's going on.
The scream belonged to a woman, and a guy was the one who cussed her out. Whether is more than one is the real question. Of course, my stupid ass can't ignore what I just heard, so I swiftly walk across the street to get a closer look. As I do, it's clear there is a dumpster on the left side of the alley against he building, which I am currently peering around, and whoever was down here is on the other side.
I wonder just exactly I planned on doing since I didn't leave with my knife or baseball bat before leaving the orphanage. I feel so stupid for coming unprepared, and know that I should just walk away, but nobodies around to stop what's happening. I can't just leave.
"Pleasestop..." The lady begs, groaning in pain and sounds so weak that she can barely get out the words. She must be hurt. What do I do?
"Fucking whore! I'm going to make an example out of you!" Yeah, I can't stand around here anymore. I need to either get involved or get lost before becoming a witness.
Be good, and good will follow. My mother's voice rings through my head, and it jogs the memory of what happened to me earlier today. Well, technically yesterday.
Remember Billy! I will always be with you! All you have to do in times of need is say my name!
What the hell does that even mean? Will I summon him to fight for me like a Pokemon if I do? 'I choose you Shazam!' I'm pretty sure I saw him get crushed to death. Then again he has powers so-
CLICK
The sound of a gun being cocked throws all contemplation out the window and I make a decision to potentially get myself killed by saying some dumb maniacs name.
"Could really use your help, Shazam!"
I've never been out in a lightning storm before. Never been struck by lightning, and the only thunder I've ever heard was in the distance. Until yesterday. Whatever Shazam was doing, showed me the deafening roar and intense heat and power of lightning and thunder. Tonight, I feel that again, only more so because as I say the word, I see a lightning bolt jolt out of the sky and race towards me. It strikes me in that same instant, for I can't comprehend things at the speed of light.
My eyes shut and I make a vain attempt at diving to the ground and taking cover, fearing that I've just been duped into being killed by some psycho weather based serial killer. Perfect crime. Get some dumb kid to say your name and a lightning bolt will strike him. Nobody will be the wiser.
"Jesus Christ!"
Not quite.
The attacker in the alley screams out in shock at the close proximity to a lightning strike, which alerts me to the fact that I'm not dead. It also makes me realize that I don't feel as scared as a I did a moment ago. In fact, I feel emboldened.
"What the...?" I open my eyes, and see that I'm laying on the pavement, though I didn't feel the impact of landing. Placing my hands down to lift myself up, I see the wider and broader hands and arms, of which are also longer, of somebody that isn't me. On top of which, the hands are wearing black fingerless gloves, with golden bracers that cover the back of the hands and encompassing the forearms. The rest of the arms are red on the outside with black running along the inside, causing me to stand up slowly and look down at my clothes.
Gone are the red hoodie and black bomber jacket, replaced with a form fitting red suit, similar to Superman's blue. The major difference being that the black part on the inside of the sleeves runs up to my armpits and down the sides of my torso. My pants being reverse, primarily black with red stripes. I'm wearing golden grieves, and my chest has a giant gold-yellow lightning bolt symbol that's glowing on it. At the top left point of the symbol sits a buckle, fastening a white shoulder guard, or pauldron I think their called, that has golden embroidery along the edges. A white cape is attached to it, going down the left side of my body and ending just below my hips. The cape wraps around my arm a bit, but can be moved to stay behind me.
I'm also way taller than I was one second ago. I stand at about 5'5, 5'6 normally, but now... I don't know I think I might be at least six feet tall! Examining my arms and legs again, I take into account that I'm built like a brick house. I have muscles I've never had before. Abs, and my legs... they aren't chicken legs anymore. I'm not just buff, I'm... godly.
"Holy moly! Wait! What's happened to my voice!" When I speak, the young cracking voice indicating the dregs of puberty in a teenage boy is no longer present, instead replaced with a deep voice belonging to an adult male. I raise the meaty hand of this body to my neck and feel that my previous scrawny teenager pencil neck was replaced with a wide one, matching the incredible physique the rest of my... or this... I don't know the body appeared to have. This causes me to feel the rest of my face and notice that my baby fat is completely gone, my slim angular face has been replaced by a square jaw and my skin had no blemishes. Not a single pimple. Not to mention my stubble was gone, and feeling my hair reveals that it's shorter and combed back and tight.
"Oh look, it's a wannabe hero." The sound of a different man from the one before draws my attention to the alleyway I was initially planning on entering. I can see more clearly than I did before. In fact, the more I looked into the darkness of the alley, the brighter it got. Revealing to me there were three men, if you can call them that, attacking a woman.
I look over all three and they are definitely street punks. One white guy, a black guy, and an ethnically ambiguous guy. I think he's a mix of south-east Asian and something else but I can't tell. The white guy has a shaved head with a flat brimmed hat, while the black guy has a high fade and a single earring, and the third one is wearing a hat with his hood pulled up. They are wearing standard street wear, some chains and the white guy has a grill.
The woman they were attacking is slumped against the wall, wearing some revealing clothing, making me think she is a lady of the night. Her hair is short and blonde, her make up is streaked from crying, and her nose is bloody and possibly broken. She also has a black eye and some bruises on her exposed arms. It didn't look promising to see that her clothes are ripped as well.
"What are you doing to her?!" My new voice booms through the alley as I accuse the punks in front of me. Where there was fear, there is now only courage, and anger. These guys are hurting somebody for their sick pleasure and I'm not going to stand for it.
"Don't get uppity with us asshole." The guy with the grill sneers.
"Freaks today think they can just step into anybody's turf and act all high and mighty. Acting like they own the place." The fade pulls out a gun, causing their hooded companion to follow suit.
"Tell us asshole. Who are you to come down here and judge us? To stick your nose into other peoples business?" Vanilla Ice is the one I heard before saying the wizard's name, speaking now as he raises his pistol. I'm not terribly familiar with firearms, but somehow I know it's a colt .45. The other two are carrying a Beretta, and a P250.
"Yeah, not even the cops like to come down here. Tell us your name so we can put it on your tombstone." The hooded guy mocks as he takes aim.
"Not that we'd bother fronting for one." Now the one with the fade talks. Though I feel a mild sense of trepidation about having guns pointed at me, I feel somewhat at ease and some how certain I'll be fine.
"Who am I to get involved when the innocent are being attacked by despicable punks like you? I'm Magic's Champion, Captain Marvel. And you fellas have messed with the wrong town." I don't know where I got the confidence, nor do I understand why I'm talking like this.
The street thugs laugh at me after I speak, making me annoyed that they aren't doing anything. I take a step forward, and they snap to attention.
"Waste this bitch!" All three open fire all at once, gunshots ringing through the alley. They are loud, but not as sharp as I thought they would be on my ears. The muzzle flash doesn't even prevent me from seeing the nasty look on their faces as they go from the grim satisfaction of killing a perceived threat, to a look of concern, and then fear, as they realize their weapons are useless.
The bullets hit my body, flatten and fall directly to the ground. Good thing to because if they ricocheted off me that could be dangerous for other people. I can hear the woman whimpering in the corner as the punks begin to run out of ammo. How I know that I have no idea. I haven't been counting the rounds.
When the guns click, indicating they are empty, the three men slowly lower their weapons in disbelief, and the looks on their faces tell me they know they messed up big time. One of them is actually panicking, trying to reload, while dollar store Vanilla ice looks over to the woman they were previously attacking, and clearly has some underhanded scheme to get out of this situation.
He's going to use the girl as a hostage.
Who the heck is that?
Focus boy!
My distraction cost me the opening I had as the punk grabs the girl and his friend holds a freshly reloaded gun to her head. A need to move fast and get these guys taken care of washes over me as I move faster than I ever thought I could. So fast in fact, it doesn't even look like anybody else was moving.
Your magic will protect anybody you attempt to catch or grab at this speed, keeping you from turning them to paste.
'Seriously who the hell is talking to me right now?'
Solomon.
'What?'
I'm left confused as I grab the guns and woman, carrying her back to the entrance of the alley in a flash of movement that clearly none of them are able to track. The woman is indeed not paste, nor injured in any way by my abilities. The guns however, are crushed in my right hand. Tossing them to the floor, I look up at the three in the alley. The guy with the hood actually pulls out a knife, while the white guy has brass knuckles and the black guy grabs a tire iron he was keeping in his pants. They just watched me eat bullets like nothing and they still want to go?
"Fine." I rush forward, fist clenched and raised, intent on letting them have it, but that voice I've been hearing speaks up again.
STOP!
The urgency from the voice in my head persuades me to slow down, but not enough for the men in front of me to keep up with me.
'Why?'
Remember Shazam's words. You have the Strength of Hercules. If you hit them full force, you'll kill them.
'Oh. Well, Superman and Wonder Woman are pretty freaking strong. They manage to hit regular human criminals like this without killing them. Right? Or are they secretly murderous assholes that cover up their crimes.'
I can't speak for their strength, but for beings such as yourself, and for Hercules when he was among humanity, they had to learn to hold back their power. Lest they cripple or kill their opponents, no matter the intention. There is also the option of forgoing violence. The scum in front of you can't hurt you, and you won't let them hurt the woman. There is no need to strike them.
'That's true I suppose. If I did need to hit guys weaker than me though, how would I go about the whole pulling my punches thing. I mean, I have no idea how strong Hercules is, let alone whatever other power I've attained from the others. Assuming that it's all cumulative. How do I know how much I need at any given time?'
I suggest starting at the least amount of out put needed, in almost any given feat of strength you need to perform. If you find a foe, or particular task is too challenging at that level of strength, then increase it. Concentrate and focus. It will come naturally to you.
'Who's that?'
The one who's strength you are borrowing.
'Wait! Does that mean I can speak to all of you?'
Don't count on my father to offer friendly advice all that often.
Oh don't be a party pooper Herc.
Shut up Hermes.
Roman names for you and me in this gig brother.
Half-Brother.
Enough the both of you.
'Who's that now?!'
Achilles, provider of Courage, one of three Greek gods who actually gets to use his real name and likely the reason you are such a handsome man in that form you've taken, Billy.
You know that isn't true Achilles. Solomon's voice becomes clear again as the rest fade into the background They are done yammering away in your mind for now, Billy. Now, you must decide what to do with the culprits in front of you. Kill if you wish, or subdue, or even scare them off. It's up to you. We are simply here to be guides in how to use our powers.
'Thanks Solomon.'
Refocusing on the three in front of me I thank the gods for having my back and decide against hitting anybody for now. Instead, I simply bend down and pick up the dumpster that's next to me and spin it on my finger. With what I assumed was the least amount of strength I could use, I lifted it with one hand easily. So I could use less if I wanted to hit somebody.
"Do you guys really want to continue with this nonsense?" The punks in front of me stop their advance and take a few steps back before looking at each other. "The way I see it, you've done more than just scare somebody, you've crossed the line. What you've done to this girl is unacceptable." I gently place the dumpster down and take the weapons from the men in half a second. They turn to run, but I can't let them get away with what they did.
Rushing them down I grab all three and place them on the ground against a street light, before ripping a speed limit sign out of the ground and bending it around all three criminals, locking them to the light post. Reducing the speed of which I am moving the time goes back to normal and the punks are confused and alarmed at being strapped to a street post.
"What the fuck! How did he-?!"
"Get me out of this things!"
"God damn it. Fawcett City has super-freak now. We're all fucked."
A wide smile crosses my face, knowing that nobody else got hurt any further. Which brings my attention back to the woman that was injured.
"Miss, let me take you to a hospital." The woman in question winces as she's leaning against a wall, her stockings torn apart and the grime from the alley present on her clothing.
"Uh... yeah. Sure." She walks over to me, placing her left hand on my shoulder, and standing sideways. I raise an eyebrow and she chuckles. "Have you never picked a lady up before?"
Solomon's voice echoes in my head, suggesting I pick her up bridal style, with instructions on how to do it properly. Hook left arm under knees, lean her back a bit, wrap right arm around her to support her back, pull close to chest so she can rest her head. But don't let her sleep for she might be concussed. Makes enough sense. I do as he says and the woman let's out a startled breath before relaxing in my arms and wrapping her arms around my neck.
"Please stay awake Miss. You might be concussed." The woman nods her head weakly before giving me a smile.
"You can call me Bambi, Captain." I nod my head before taking off in a full sprint. My magic flowing over her to keep her safe from the speed I am running at in less than two minutes.
I got Ms. Bambi checked in, and looked over all the people in the ER. A lot of people are either victims of violent crime, or addiction due to the harsh life they live in this part of town. Others are sick, from some other ailments that I'm not sure I can help with. It makes me sad seeing so many in need. So many hurt. Despite the low feeling of helplessness and powerlessness permeating the room, I could sense that I was drawing a lot of attention to myself. I mean, glowing gold-yellow thunderbolt on your chest in a red suit, isn't the norm for Fawcett City. Especially since we rarely ever see Superheroes come through here, if at all. Curiosity is winning the attention of all that are conscious in the room, which made me a little uneasy. Fortunately, I barely feel it, because the Courage of Achilles is is doing wonders form y confidence. I'm even giving reassuring smiles and waving to a few folks.
Suddenly the power goes out, and there are panicked yelps and concerned cries from the patients as staff give hurried instructions on what to do.
"Back up generator isn't working." One nurse mumbles to another. It's then that I realize I can hear better than I ever have before. I know the voice came from the woman across the room, and with how noisy it is in here, I shouldn't be able to hear her.
"I'm sure they'll have the power back on soon enough." Another woman whispers.
"I don't know. If it's another motor vehicle accident that's caused the outage, it'll probably take a long time to get back up." A man says.
"Not to mention we have a few people on life support that won't last that long without the machines turned on."
"Aren't they supposed to have batteries in them for this particular situation."
"Yeah, but somebody stole them and we haven't had the funds to replace them." That's all I needed to hear to march up to the front desk.
"Excuse me, nurse?" At the desk is a plump woman with her hair in a bun, using her phones light to go over paperwork. She doesn't shine the light up at me before speaking.
"Fill out a form if you haven't already. Unfortunately with the power out I can't-"
"No it's not about that. I'm going to provide power to this fine hospital?" She snorts at my bold claim.
"Fine isn't what I'd... call..." She looks up at me and loses her words, finally noticing the glowing lightning bolt on my chest. I'm pretty sure it was lighting up my face. I smile and wave as she shakes her head and her dumbfounded look fades back to leave a more neutral demeanour.
"Well if you couldn't be any more obvious about your job. The back up generator is down stairs, and the breakers are in the same room. If you can just get the power to work at all that would be great." I nod my head and quickly make my way to the basement, careful not to trample anybody in the halls or on the stairwell.
I get down there before anybody else, and locate the main generator. Shazam was able to channel lightning, so in theory, I should be able to as well. Sticking out my hands I try and focus on producing electricity from my hands. I don't want to cause the thing to explode, or simply break, so I think in the same terms as Hercules said to with strength, and focus on the lowest amount of energy I can expel. As a result, I produce a small spark from my hands that barely does anything, but still elicits an excited cheer from my now adult lips.
"I have the power!" If my impersonation of Bruce Almighty wasn't evidence enough of how palpable my excitement is, I don't know what else could be. The possibilities of what I can do are unexplored and I really would like to spend some time really exploring my limits, but for now I need to focus on the task at hand.
Pointing my hands at the generator again, I up the voltage by quite a bit. Clearly I was going too low in terms of power, so I need to amp it up.
ZAP
The lights and machine come back to life, causing a cheer from the people upstairs. I turn to leave, but as soon as I do the lights go out again and I hear a chorus of groans and a few curses.
"Hmm. Looks like there some bleed off. Maybe I should just continuously power the hospital until everything is up and running." Turning back around, I walk up to the generator, place my hand on the dead machine, and focus on letting off just enough power to supply the hospital and keep the thing from melting. I also am working now on keeping a continuous stream of energy, which is something I wasn't expecting to learn tonight.
"Or at all really." I mumble to myself. My new voice still sounding weird coming from my lips. Thinking about it, my lips isn't even the accurate way of describing them. Nothing about this body is technically mine, but I'm still here. Present and calling the shots. Well, according to Solomon my hands are on the wheel.
'Hey Solomon'
How may I be of service. Gee, I wasn't expecting him to speak to me as if I'm his King.
'I was just wondering. Do you guys have any of your hands on the wheel?'
What does that mean?
'Oh, its a colloquialism from my era. Uh, let's change it. Reigns. Do you guys have your hands on the reigns, or is it really just all me?'
Ah, you are asking about control over the form of Captain Marvel.
'More or less. Wouldn't hurt to know if I have access to you guys when I'm just Billy Batson.'
No, we won't be in direct communication with you for some time as Billy. However, as Captain Marvel, you have full access to us. Well, in this manner of speaking anyway. As for your question about having our "hands on the reigns" so to speak, no, we don't. Every conscious decision is yours to make. That's apart of the deal we made with Shazam. That's not to say you may not feel a... pull, or instinct, that you may want to act on in certain times of duress or frustration. If anything, you can think of us as a sort of subconscious that's separate from yours, but still connected.
'So if I feel a sense of danger that I should dodge instead of let hit me, that could be one or all of you warning me?'
I would say if we aren't actually calling out to you to move out of the way of danger or the like, that it's more the muscle memory earned through the countless battles and experiences we've faced through the ages. For example, protecting your heel from a loosed arrow.
Solomon, The Wise. A real comedian. The slightly disgruntled voice of Achilles drifts through my mind as I stifle a chuckle.
My apologies Achilles. I saw an opening and had to take it. I can hear the amusement in Solomon's voice.
So did that archer apparently. Mercury's jab cam immediately after Solomon's apology.
Don't make me come over to your delivery service Hermes. I'll stab you. With my spear.
Alright, alright, relax Achilles.
Mercury, please don't instigate fights.
Me?! Was it not you who cast the first stone, Solomon? Pretty sure it was.
'Enough. All of you.' I hear no protests nor any grumbling from my command. As much as I found their bickering mildly entertaining, Solomon had a point. I didn't want them to break out into a fight. Not sure if it would have any ramifications on my end, but I'd rather not risk it. That does bring another question to my mind though.
'One more question. For all of you.'
I'm all ears. Mercury chimes.
Yes, go ahead Billy.
'So, how does our connection work? I mean yeah, I'm starting to believe in magic, but that's not what I'm getting at. You're talking to me right now. So, are you stopping what you're doing to look in on me, or are you just always connected to me? Or at least The Captain? Or are you all dead and nobody knows about it so it's your ghosts that I'm talking to.'
Well besides Achilles the only other one of us that's dead is Solomon. Mercury explains.
'Right so how does this work for you two.'
Well I can't speak for Solomon, for I had never heard of him until after he died and joined this little pact of ours, but I'm in The Elysian Fields.
'Wait, really? You're a demigod aren't you? I thought you'd have been raised to godhood and put on Olympus.'
Zeus extended the invitation, and I had to graciously decline.
'Why?'
You've clearly read our stories. You tell us why Achilles declined being one of them. A new large booming voice encompasses my whole being. Thinking about exactly how large the creature behind that voice has to be makes me think of only one of the last two of the gods behind my powers I've yet to speak to.
'Atlas, The Titan.' No response is given. The rumbling of his voice fades slower than the rest, but fade it does.
To answer your question, Billy. We are connected to the form of the Captain at all times. Through the magic of the pact we made with Shazam, we can... focus our senses on you, communicate, and pay attention to what you're up to in order to give you guidance if needed. Normally we have means of doing this that require more effort, of which is determined by varying factors, but this pact makes it almost instinctual. Solomon's explains.
'Like a psychic link almost?'
That's basically what it is. Yes.
'So you can watch me and communicate with me when I'm in my mortal form, you just have to use some spell or ritual or something?'
Well, some of us can. Atlas has his hands full and I'm in Elysium. I need to ask Persephone if it's alright to reach out from the Underworld and communicate with the living.
'Hold on. I'm just realizing I'm asking a question that should be answered by the guy that gives me my super speed.'
Game recognizes game, as they say on Earth. Mercury's jovial tone returns in response to my query.
'Aren't you the guy they go to for correspondence?'
If they want to make an official statement that isn't of the utmost secrecy sure. If they have unofficial, under the table, shady business, than no. Even though I could do it, I don't want to get involved in all of their petty squabbles and nonsense. And they are more than happy to keep me out of it.
'I see. So you wouldn't come down here to talk to me directly?'
"Sure I would." I twist my head towards the entrance to the room, just in time to see a blur of gold disappear through the door.
"Holy Moly!" I can hear mischievous giggling in my head.
Fastest God Alive.
'No doubt. We should race sometime.'
Any time, any place kiddo.
'You're on, buddy!'
I hear a chuckle before their voices fade again, leaving me in silence save for the noises of the generators. Though I could hear quite a bit further than normal, I opted to pull my senses back for a bit. I stare at the door across the room, in case anybody shows up for help... or to chat or something. If somebody comes down here it wouldn't surprise me. I can almost never get a moment alone... but I wouldn't mind I guess. For now, I'll enjoy the relative peace and quiet afforded to me.
"Alone at last."