Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a steady grinding of machinery beneath his feet; the distant thrum, thrum, thrum of the turbine at the base of the station. Up ahead, the high arched window looking out into the darkness, over the blue-green curve of the earth.

Before the window, bright and electric against the dark of space and the dark metal of the Watchtower, stood Shazam.

“Hell of a view, huh?”

Shazam whipped around to face him, his cape flapping. “Flash.”

“You expecting someone else?”

“You walk like a cat, buddy.”

“Gotta be light on my feet,” he said. “Like a dancer.”

He reached the safety rail, and letting out a breath he sat, lowering his legs over the edge of the platform into the space beyond. The window curved out into the emptiness; when you looked down, there was only the darkness of space. He got kind of a kick out of it, all that nothing beneath his feet.

He said, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” said Shazam. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I get you. I come out here to think, sometimes.” Resting his elbows on the railing he looked out over the earth. “It looks so fragile from up here, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Weird to think we’re the only ones protecting it, sometimes,” he added. “Scares me a little.”

“Ah,” said Shazam with a chuckle. “You’re thinking much deeper thoughts than me, Flash. I’m just,” he gestured at the cosmic view before them, “I’m still like, wow. I’m in outer space.”

He laughed. “One of those days, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He put his chin upon his folded arms, and looked up at Shazam. He was so damn big. Not just tall, but wide as a goddamn truck. Even on the station with its towering proportions and the vast emptiness around it, he could fill up a whole room.

“You did good out there today,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Shazam. “You too, Flash.”

“Always do.”

He breathed out. Then, casually, as if he just wanted to feel the air on his face, he pulled back his mask. He ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up, aware that he was being watched; that Shazam was looking down at him, out of the corner of his eye.

He said, “It’s Wally, by the way.”

“Wally,” Shazam echoed. He didn’t go on.

“How about you?”

He looked sharply away, back out at the earth. “Shazam’ll do fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Wally leaned back on his perch, drumming his fingers on the railing. “So is it like being called Steve or something, where you’re from?”

“Huh?”

“There a lot of Shazams running around on your homeworld?”

Shazam shot him an incredulous look – and started to laugh. “You think I’m an alien?”

“You’re not?”

He was still laughing.

“Okay – okay,” said Wally. “Other dimension?”

“Keep guessing, buddy,” said Shazam.

“Aw, shucks,” said Wally. “Those were my two best guesses.”

It smarted a little, that Shazam wasn’t more – forthcoming. He’d known not to expect anything; in their line of work there was no obligation to share more than you had to. But still, it smarted. He’d reached out a hand in the dark and it had not been taken.

There were footsteps behind them. “Good evening.”

“Oh, hey!” said Wally, swivelling on his perch.

Diana closed the gap between them. They’d been on the go all day and she was still fucking glowing, perfect, barely even a hair out of place. For half a second he wished he’d kept his mask on. He must look a state. That was the problem with working with demi-gods and Kryptonians – it wasn’t great for your self-image.

“Coffee,” she said, handing around paper cups. “Coffee – hot cocoa.”

“Thanks,” said Shazam, toasting her.

“Not a coffee guy, huh?” said Wally.

“Nah.”

“I feel you,” Wally said, popping the lid off his cup and knocking back a mouthful. “I should probably drink less of the stuff.”

“Probably,” Diana agreed.

“We were just talking names,” said Wally. “You know. Doing some proper introductions.”

“Oh?” said Diana.

“You don’t have to –” Shazam protested.

“I am Diana of Themyscira.” She offered him her hand. “You can call me Diana.”

“Yes – ma’am,” he said, tentatively returning the handshake.

“She’s Diana of Themyscira and I’m Wally of Central City,” Wally said. “C’mon, dude. Where’re you from?”

“I already told you – I’m from Philly.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Wally. “Where’d you live before Philly?”

“Wally,” said Diana in a warning tone.

A smile quirked Shazam’s lips – he might even go so far as to call it a smirk. “Pittsburgh.”

The thing was, he did trust Shazam. He wasn’t sure why he trusted him, but he did. In their line of work sometimes you just had to take a plunge on people.

When he’d first seen the videos he was sure they were fake. VFX, he’d said. Pretty good VFX, but VFX nonetheless. The handwritten title cards were a nice touch. Make it look low-budget so people wouldn’t guess how high-budget it was.

Then he’d seen Shazam on the news, doing his thing live, and thought, I guess you could fake that. You could rig up some kind of flying suit – crazy expensive, but doable. The technology was out there. The lightning, less doable but not impossible.

Seeing him in action, in person, for the first time had been – something.

There was a heat, that came off him. A faint but noticeable smell of ozone. Of lightning. A kind of – thrill, just watching him work. Some kind of deep, monkey-brain instinct had told him immediately and unhesitatingly that he was looking at something not of his world. Something ancient, and potent.

He knew Shazam was magic. He was pretty sure he wasn’t human. Beyond that, he had nothing. But he’d fought beside him three times now. Shazam was – loyal, and earnest. Real friendly. Easy to talk to. He reminded Wally of Supes, and of Diana. Talking to him you thought. Yeah. Yeah, this is one of the good guys.

“It’s getting late,” said Shazam, breaking the pensive silence they’d lapsed into. “I should be heading out.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Wally, pricking up his ears. “Back to whatever it is you do when you’re not Shazaming?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t feel obliged to stay,” said Diana. “We can finish up here – if you need to be somewhere –”

“Yeah, if your uh, girlfriend –” said Wally.

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?” Wally guessed.

Shazam shot him a look.

“Roommate, kid, whatever, is missing you, you know –”

“Wally,” said Diana.

“Okay!” He held up his hands. “Okay. I’ll back off.”

“I wanna be friends,” said Shazam. “I’d just prefer to keep hero stuff and other stuff – separate.”

“You don’t need to explain,” said Wally. “I get it. We all get it. We respect each other’s privacy around here. Hell,” he added. “I don’t even know what colour the Bat’s hair is.”

Shazam snorted.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you,” said Wally. “It’s just – I dunno. It’s real hard to imagine you having other stuff.”

Shazam ducked his head to the side. “Really?” he said, as if it had never occurred to him how plain weird he came off.

“It’s like with the big guy,” said Wally. “You know? Try and picture him with a job, or, or a mortgage or whatever. Try and picture him going to the bank or the grocery store. You just can’t do it, right?”

“Superman has a personal life,” put in Diana.

“If you say so,” said Wally.

“We all have personal lives,” said Diana. “As you said, we know better than to pry.”

“I’m not prying,” said Wally. “No prying here.”

“Shazam,” said a voice behind them, out of the echoing hall of the station, and Wally almost spilled his coffee.

“Jesus,” he muttered. It was the Bat. Of course it was. He had a way of springing up out of every dark corner on the station.

“Sir?” said Shazam, clearly as startled as Wally but slightly more dignified about it.

“I have something for you,” said the Batman.

“Oh yeah?” Shazam stepped away from the window to join him.

The Batman held out his hand. “This is your Justice League communicator,” he said. “Keep it safe. As of now you’re officially a member of the team.”

“Not much ceremony to it, huh?” said Wally, lounging against the railing. “Go easy on us. It’s our first time.”

“Oh,” said Shazam, shifting from foot to foot, looking between the two of them with mounting delight. “Oh, thank you – thank you, sir, this – this is such an honour.”

“The honour’s all ours,” said the Batman.

Shazam let out a squeak – a high pitched sound of giddy, almost childlike glee. “It’s really, uh, it’s not –” he babbled. Then drawing a breath, he composed himself.

Standing up to his full, impressive height, he took the communicator. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “You won’t regret this.”

The thing about having Shazam officially in the league was: he was kind of – flaky. He showed up to meetings only sporadically. He didn’t always answer his communicator and when he did more often than not it took him a solid minute. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer, and then he’d call them back later sounding kind of frazzled. When they asked him what was up he just said he had other commitments.

It wasn’t as if they could press him on it; they had a policy, after all, about pressing each other on their personal lives. It wasn’t as if they should be surprised. They’d met by way of him showing up mid-fight with a stupid grin on his face and a need a hand there? It had taken them a couple of tries to nail him down long enough to ask him if he wanted to join the team.

The other thing about having him in the League was – for all he could talk your ear off with the best of them, he was kind of quiet in meetings.

Like now. He was sitting at the far end of the table from where Cyborg was talking. His face was pensive, and he hadn’t said a word since they’d sat down. He had one elbow resting on his knee; one hand raised, and as he moved his fingers sparks danced between them, a miniature bolt of lightning darting back and forth from fingertip to fingertip. Fidgeting with electricity like it was silly putty.

Weird dude.

So he wasn’t the best at the planning side of things, Wally reflected. Big deal. He wasn’t that kind of hero; he was the kind of hero you pointed at the bad guys and said hey, fuck them up. He was a big gun – a tank. Wally could live with that.

“We still don’t know where the entities are coming from,” Cyborg was saying. “We know they aren’t extra-terrestrial. They don’t run on any human technology that we’ve been able to identity.”

As he spoke, the image he was projecting above the table shifted from a map of one of the incidents to a recording of one of the creatures. A woman, with wings and feet like a bird. He remembered seeing it up close; its claws had been razor-sharp. It had screeched like an animal. When Diana had taken it down it had crumbled to dust.

“Their remains don’t give us much to work with,” said Cyborg. “They pretty much just turn into dirt. There’s nothing special in there – just regular clay dust. Whatever powering them dies when they do.” He stood up straighter. “Our working theory is that we’re dealing with magic here.”

They were made out of baked, hardened clay, like terracotta statues come to life. They moved like they were alive. They weren’t alive. They had to be magic. It wasn’t a comforting thought; magic was alien territory for most of them. But not all of them.

“Do you have any thoughts?” said Superman.

“Hm?” said Shazam, startled to be addressed directly. Like he’d forgotten he was even in the meeting. “Oh, yeah – magic for sure.” Then straightening up in his chair he said, as if he was only realising it as he spoke the words aloud, “some kind of – construct? I think?”

The Batman said, “Do you have any idea why this is happening?”

Shazam spread his hands. “Your guess is as good as mine, buddy.”

“There’s no rhyme or reason to it,” said Diana. “They attack populated areas but they don’t target anything. They lash out like animals. If someone is controlling them then to what purpose?”

“A distraction, maybe?” put in Wally. “A diversion to cover something else?”

“Could be,” said the Batman.

The hologram above the table was still flitting between images Cyborg had captured of the creatures. The giant with snakes for legs. The centaur. The hydra, with its dozens of heads – that one had been a bitch to take down.

“Wait,” said Shazam abruptly. “Go back.”

Cyborg shifted the image back to the centaur. “This one?”

“Yeah – yeah,” Shazam said. “Do they all have those symbols? I didn’t seem them before.”

It took Wally half a second to see what he meant. He hadn’t noticed when he’d seen the thing in the flesh – or the clay – whatever it was made of – but there was a symbol, between its eyes. A kind of spiral.

“I think so,” said Cyborg, turning the image back to the giant. There – Wally saw it now, not on its face but on its chest. A symbol like a stylised flower.

“Have you seen them before?” said Superman.

“I’m not sure,” said Shazam. “Something like them? Maybe.”

“Do you know what they mean?” said Diana, with sudden urgency.

“I’m just spitballing here,” said Shazam. “Something to do with summoning?”

“That sure doesn’t sound like spitballing,” Wally remarked, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah – yeah,” said Shazam. “Sorry. Yeah. I think that’s what’s bringing them here – the symbols.”

The Batman was staring at him; he hadn’t even noticed. For all the Bat was, generally, inscrutable, for once in his life Wally could guess at what he was thinking. Are you being evasive, he was thinking, or is this really all you know.

After a moment, he seemed to reach the same conclusion as Wally; Shazam really didn’t know any more. He spoke as if he was groping about blindly in the dark. As if he was trying to remember something he’d all but forgotten. It was weird as hell – like everything about him – but it wasn’t suspicious.

Though maybe Wally was just the trusting type.

The image shifted back to the hydra. “I’ve looked into the symbols,” said Cyborg. “I haven’t found anything, as yet.”

“Nor me,” said the Batman. “We’ll have to look harder.” To Shazam, he said, “If you come up with anything else, you let us know.”

Shazam threw up a mock salute. “Will do, boss.”

The hologram flicked off. “That’s all we got for now,” said Cyborg. “Until we know more the only thing we can do is stay on the ball.”

“Any idea where they’ll spring up next?” said Wally.

“So far they’ve stayed in the northeast,” said the Batman, “but we can’t assume they won’t move further afield.”

“We’re dealing with an unknown threat here,” said Superman. “Stay alert, everyone.”

The first incident had been New York. Then Toronto. Detroit. They weren’t so very destructive, but they were tenacious. People had been hurt. People had died and the League was no closer to an explanation. It was maddening.

“Right, then.” Leaning back in his chair Arthur stretched out his formidable arms in a gesture Wally him well enough to recognise as faux-casual. “That us done with the shop talk for the night?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said the Batman.

“Cool,” said Arthur. “Anyone sticking around?”

“I’m pretty beat,” said Wally.

“Cause I, uh,” said Arthur as if he hadn’t spoken, “brought a gift to properly welcome our new friend over there.” He jerked his head at Shazam.

“What kind of gift?” said Diana, rightly suspicious.

With a grin – maybe more of a grimace – Arthur reached into his jacket and thunked a bottle of whiskey down on the table.

A stifled laugh went around the table – hushed, and breathless. After the week they’d had, they were all glad of the release of tension. Flopping back in his seat Wally tugged off his mask. “Go for it, buddy.”

“To – problem solving,” said Arthur, pouring whiskey.

“Don’t push it,” said Cyborg.

“And to new friends,” Arthur said, ignoring him. He slid a glass down the table to Shazam. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” Wally echoed, and went to town on the whiskey. Arthur had good taste in booze, usually. Or at least he had expensive taste, which was the same thing as Wally understood it.

Across the table, Shazam took a sip – and choked. “Oh, wow,” he said softly.

“Not a whiskey person?” said Supes.

“I guess not,” said Shazam, wiping at his mouth.

“Ah, well.” Arthur reached for his glass. “More for me.”

“Careful – don’t you need to swim home?” said Wally, laughing.

“Aw, chill out, Flash,” said Shazam.

“You want something else to drink?” said the Batman. “I think there’s some soda in the breakroom.”

Shazam said, “sure. Why not.”

“So there we were,” said Arthur, “down in Florida –”

“Goddamn it,” said Wally.

“And this asshole is all, ohh, I can run on water,” Arthur went on, waving his hands around in a ham-fisted Wally impression. “Just watch me, I can run on water, I’m so fast, I don’t even break the surface tension.”

“I can run on water fine,” said Wally. “When I’m sober. You dick.”

They’d drifted out of the meeting room and now they were gathered beneath the window, looking out over the earth. It was a pretty nice spot for a party, Wally reflected. Maybe one day they’d have enough people in the League for a real one.

“So he runs out over the ocean,” Arthur said, throwing out his arm by way of demonstration. “Nyoom – gets about fifty feet before he face plants.”

“Ohh no,” said Shazam. Diana was laughing. Goddamn Wonder Woman was laughing at him now.

“So I have to go out there and keep the sucker from drowning himself,” said Arthur. “On my night off.”

“I had the situation under control,” Wally protested.

“You were drowning, you dumbass,” said Cyborg. Shazam laughed.

“Details,” said Wally.

“Anyway, my point is,” said Arthur. “Sometimes alcohol just doesn’t mix with superpowers.”

“Don’t doubt it,” said Shazam.

“Okay, first of all,” Wally jabbed his half-full whiskey glass at Arthur, “my powers mix with alcohol just fine. I sober up real fast. And second, you drink and use yours all the time.”

“Entirely different situation,” said Arthur. “Also I can hold my liquor.”

He downed the last of his whiskey.

“Probably just as well the big guy can’t get drunk,” he added contemplatively. “The poor bastard.”

“How about you?” said Cyborg.

“Who, me?” said Shazam.

“You’re pretty much invincible, right?” said Cyborg. “Can you get drunk?”

“You know, I’ve, uh.” Shazam turned his glass of coke around and around in his hand. “I’ve never actually tried.”

“Really.” Interest piqued Wally snaked an arm around Shazam’s shoulders. He had to reach up. Damn, the guy was big. “You wanna give it a shot?”

Shazam chuckled. “Not tonight.” He nodded at Diana and said, “Hey, how about you? Can you get drunk?”

“Yes,” said Diana. “But unlike some people I can hold it just fine.”

“Bet you could drink Arthur under the table,” said Wally.

“Hey!” Arthur protested.

“I have nothing to prove.” Diana sweetly tapped a nail against the rim of her glass.

“Neither do I,” said Arthur.

“Of course not,” she said, so sweet it was bordering on syrupy condescension.

“Hey, lady –”

“So, hey!” said Wally. “How about our new teammate, huh? He’s pretty cool.” He smacked Shazam’s chest. It was very solid. He wasn’t sure if it was the suit or if the guy was just made of real firm stuff.

Cyborg was giving him a look, one of those steely-eyed glares that was pumped up to another level by the red glow of his cybernetic eye, but before he could say whatever it was he was thinking Shazam said, “I am pretty cool.”

“Damn straight,” Wally said, draping himself over him still more enthusiastically. Okay, so he got drunk pretty fast. He burned it off even faster. No harm done.

Shazam shrugged him off. “Hey, what time is it?”

“A little after nine,” said Arthur. “Why?”

“I should probably be heading home,” said Shazam.

“Why, you got an early start or something?” said Wally. Technically he had work in twelve hours or so, but he was planning to be late anyway. No loss.

“Most mornings – yeah,” said Shazam.

“Aw, c’mon,” said Wally. “You can stick around a little.”

“Wish I could.” Downing the last of his coke Shazam stretched, rolling his shoulders.

“So do you live in Philly, or outside, or what?” said Wally.

“Wally,” said Cyborg in his most warningest warning tone.

“I’m just askin’!” Wally threw up his hands. “No pressure!”

He hadn’t really expected an answer, based on his previous attempts to apply – gentle, very gentle – pressure, but Shazam said, “I guess, uh – I guess I split my time between Philly and the Rock of Eternity.”

Wally blinked. “The rock of what now?”

“I really do gotta go.” Shazam handed him his empty coke glass. Wally took it, still too thrown by the whole Rock of Eternity thing to argue. “I was nice hanging with you guys.”

“You’re welcome to stay longer,” said Diana – kind of to Wally’s surprise.

“I can’t,” said Shazam.

“Listen, man, if you need to leave you leave,” said Arthur. “I’d just hate to think that we’d done something to make you feel like you’re not welcome, you know?”

Wally wasn’t sure what had given them the vibe that Shazam didn’t feel welcome. Maybe they were reading too much into things. Maybe he was too tipsy to read the room. Maybe it was just that Arthur was worried he’d made a misstep with the whiskey. Probably he had made a misstep with the whiskey, but Wally wasn’t about to start complaining.

“Oh, no – no, it’s not – I really do have somewhere to be in the morning,” said Shazam. “I have – commitments. You guys have been great. Really.”

“We really are glad to have you on board,” said Cyborg. “It was – pretty much a unanimous decision.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Shazam, his ears pricking up at pretty much.

Wally winced. And he was the one getting the ‘shut up, asshole’ looks. Oof, this wasn’t something they should be bringing up at all, let alone when most of them had been drinking. Cyborg was stone sober, as always. What was his excuse. Impeccable honesty, maybe. Or maybe it had just slipped out.

Wally could sympathise. He had that problem a lot.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” said Arthur. “We all wanted you onboard.” He accentuated the we ever so slightly, as if to imply all of us, as in everyone currently at this impromptu party, but not necessarily everyone on board this secret space station.

“Someone voted no, huh?” said Shazam.

“I didn’t say that,” said Cyborg. “There wasn’t strictly a vote.”

“Right, right,” said Shazam, as if it was an obvious lie.

It wasn’t – strictly – a lie. They hadn’t technically voted. But they kind of had voted, and it hadn’t been quite as unanimous as they might perhaps have liked.

Then Shazam said, “Was it the big guy?”

Oof, Wally thought, bang on the money.

It had been a, uh, spirited discussion. Most of them had taken one look at Shazam out there doing his thing and gone yeah, that’s a guy we want on the team, if he wants in. Supes had been more reserved. He’d stood his ground on it for a long time, and the dirty truth was that if he hadn’t backed down they’d probably have dropped the idea.

We don’t know where he came from, Superman had said. We don’t know anything about his powers. We don’t know who he is.

He wasn’t wrong. Alright, so they didn’t all know each other’s names or life histories or hair colours, but they all had a rough idea of what the others’ deals were. Kryptonian, Amazon, Atlantean, some guy with too much money to burn, whatever. Shazam was a big ol’ question mark. They’d known that going in. Wally had figured – probably they’d all figured – that once he was on the team he’d open up a bit. Supes had been worried about just what he might be hiding.

And okay, so as yet he hadn’t opened up. It was still early days. He’d been on the team, what, three months? He didn’t always make it to meetings so they hadn’t even spent three months’ worth of League-time with him.

Maybe he was hiding something. They were all hiding things. It came with the job. It wasn’t as if he was gonna be hiding anything bad.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Diana.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed.

“He came around to the idea,” she added.

Which was a bit of an overstatement. He’d dropped his objections because he was outnumbered.

I don’t like his attitude, he had said. It’s not professional. It’s like he’s showing off – out for attention. Just because he’s good in a fight, doesn’t mean he’d be a good teammate.

Privately, he wondered if the big guy felt a little threatened. There weren’t a lot of people on earth who could even hope to hold their own in a fight against Superman. Now that number had gone up by one. Must be a pretty scary feeling, when you weren’t used to be around people who were on your level. It must be pretty scary looking and someone and thinking hey, they could hurt me if they wanted when you weren’t used to it.

“Sure,” said Shazam. “You know what? Forget I said anything. It’s in the past now, right?”

“Sure it is,” said Wally.

“I really do have to be going.” He clapped Wally on the shoulder – a heavy clap that he felt right down to his gut. “See you around.”

“This – rock of eternity,” said Cyborg. “We have any intel on that? I’m drawing a blank.”

They were on duty together in the Watchtower, him and Wally and Diana, and they’d made it a good few hours into their shift without bringing up the elephant in the room.

“A little,” said Diana, leaning over one of the monitor screens to make an adjustment. “It’s – a legend, to my people.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Wally.

“They say it was the ancient source of all magic in the world,” said Diana. “The entrance was lost many thousands of years ago.” She straightened up. “In all honesty, I thought it was a metaphor.”

“Lots of people thought your home was a myth,” Cyborg reminded her.

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“So do we think that’s where he’s been chilling out this whole time?” said Wally. “At the – rock.”

That was their working theory – the one they’d been mulling over for the past week or so. That Shazam was old – really old – and had been sealed away somewhere, in a magic cave or, or sleeping in a tomb – something like that. It was a solid explanation for how he’d sprung up out of nowhere, packing the kind of power he did. It was a decent explanation for his – patchy knowledge of the modern world.

“Yeah,” said Cyborg. “If the entrance was lost maybe he couldn’t get out?”

“It’s possible.” Diana sat back down.

“You don’t sound convinced,” said Wally.

She sighed. “He’s very strange.”

“You can say that again.”

They’d found out a few days back that Shazam didn’t understand how taxes worked. He was also kind of hazy on bank accounts. His geography knowledge was kind of wacky – he always seemed kind of lost when they talked politics. Wally often had the sense that he was nodding along with things he didn’t really understand.

He was a big fan of Coke, and Doritos. He knew what vaping was. He knew a surprising amount about video games. Inexplicably he knew what TikTok was. Wally as pretty sure he’d once seen him dab in a news report.

As the lady said. Weird.

“My people have a story of a – champion of magic,” said Diana. “They say he brought monsters into the world.”

Wally sat up straighter. “What kind of monsters?”

“I don’t know,” said Diana. “It was long ago, if it happened at all. Before our histories began.”

“He came from the rock of eternity?” said Cyborg.

“Maybe.”

“You don’t think,” said Wally, struggling to get his head around what she was suggesting. “You’re not saying Shazam –”

“Of course not,” she said, to his relief. “He’s harmless. He’s –” She cocked her head to the side, trying to find the right word. “– sweet.”

“He’s a puzzle,” Cyborg agreed.

“He says he was touched by Zeus,” said Diana. “If that’s true then whatever he is, he must be something special.”

“If it’s true,” said Cyborg, getting up from his chair. “I wanna take a walk. Coffee?”

“Yeah, ever since the uh – the accident, my metabolism’s just kind of crazy,” said Wally.

“Yeah?” said Shazam, though Wally didn’t think he was actually paying attention. He had both feet up on the edge of the control panel and giving himself a good push he began to spin around in his chair.

“Fastest man alive – burn more calories than any other human alive.” Wally tipped the last crumbs of his potato chips into his mouth. Shazam pushed off the control panel again and did a full three spins. “Guess you can’t have anything good without a trade-off, huh?”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a downside to me,” said Shazam, spinning idly back and forth.

“Depends on your point of view,” said Wally. “We out of pretzels?”

“Uh.” Catching himself on the edge of the control panel Shazam began rooting through empty packets. “Lemme check.”

The door slid open. “Oh, hey,” said Shazam, glancing up at Cyborg. “We’re not being too loud, are we?”

“Nah,” said Cyborg, coming fully into the monitor room. “You’re good.”

Cyborg could handle monitor duty by himself, most of the time. But cybernetic or not the guy needed a break sometimes. And anyway, they were on high alert, what with the whole unexplained magical hellbeasts attacking major cities issue they were having. So there they were, giving up their Saturday to keep an eye on things while Cyborg – actually Wally wasn’t sure what Cyborg did on his downtime. Buffed all his metal bits, maybe.

“Any news?” said Cyborg.

Probably he didn’t really need to ask, being as he was hooked into the mainframe. Maybe he wanted to check that they were doing a good job. Maybe he’d just got lonely.

“All quiet,” said Wally.

It had been quiet too long. They could expect another hit any day now.

Cyborg eyed the empty packets littering the room. “How many snacks did you guys bring?”

“Hey, hey!” Wally threw up his arms. “Enhanced metabolism, remember? I need my snacks, big guy.”

“Sure,” said Cyborg. He nodded at Shazam. “What’s your excuse?”

“I like to eat,” said Shazam, elbow-deep in a bag of Doritos.

“He likes to eat, Vic,” said Wally. “Give him a break.” Shazam tossed him another bag of pretzels.

“I guess when you’re pretty much invincible you don’t have to worry about heart disease, huh?” said Cyborg.

“Let’s hope not,” said Shazam, laughing. “Never put it to the test.”

“You’d have to play the long game on that one,” said Wally. “Wait twenty or so years. See what happens.”

Shazam laughed harder.

“You two are as bad as each other, you know that?” said Cyborg.

“Yeah, speaking of,” said Wally. “Are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant in the room?” said Shazam, his mouth full of Doritos.

“What do you mean?” said Cyborg.

“You know.” Wally gestured at Shazam. “How this guy stole my look.”

“Whoa!” Shazam held up his hands as if to say hey, back off buddy. “I did not!”

“Uh, yeah you did?” said Wally. “Red and yellow with lightning bolts, that’s been my whole brand for years. And then you show up with the exact same look and now they’re selling merch with your dumb lightning bolt. You dick.”

“Okay, first off,” said Shazam, sitting up in his chair. “I don’t have any control over the merch, so. And also, we don’t even have the same look.”

“Vic, back me up,” said Wally. “He stole my entire brand.”

“I don’t wanna be a part of this,” said Cyborg.

“C’mon, back me up!” said Wally. “Be a pal.”

“I’m not – look, okay,” said Cyborg. “You have similar things going on, visually, but it’s not like anyone’s gonna mix you two up.”

“It’s not a matter of mixing us up,” said Wally. “People are gonna see lightning bolts on red backgrounds and be like hey, which super guy is that again?”

“Why do you care?” said Cyborg. “You’re not making any money off merch. Are you?”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” said Wally.

“Look, buddy,” said Shazam, his feet fully up on the control panel. “You don’t own lightning. And if you wanna get real technical about it, it was my look first.”

“Was not.”

“Was so,” said Shazam. “The lightning bolt’s been Shazam’s symbol for thousands of years for whatever. There’s a big one on the wall in the Rock of Eternity.”

The thing with Shazam was you never knew when he was gonna drop some super weird new piece of information about his life into the conversation. Wally and Vic exchanged a look.

“So the Rock of Eternity,” said Cyborg. “Is it like a building?”

“Kinda.” Shazam offered him the Doritos. “Chip?”

Cyborg eyed the proffered bag with disdain. “That’s just rude, man.”

“Sorry.” Shazam withdrew the bag, contrite.

“You didn’t have to use it, though,” said Wally. “You could’ve picked a different symbol.”

“What makes you think I had any say in it?” Shazam rooted about in the Doritos bag.

“He does have lightning powers,” said Cyborg.

“Don’t start,” said Wally.

“I’m just saying,” said Cyborg. “He has lightning powers, dude. It’s his whole thing. You just run real good.”

“I still had it first,” said Wally.

Shazam smugly sucked Dorito dust off his fingers. “No you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did!” Wally protested.

“Mine glows,” said Shazam. “Yours doesn’t glow.”

“I could make mine glow if I wanted,” said Wally. “Asshole.”

“Mine glows cause it’s magic,” said Shazam, smirking.

“Goddamn it!” Wally threw up his hands. “You’re such a dick.”

“Hey, buddy, you started it,” said Shazam.

“You did start it,” said Cyborg.

“I’m, I’m just passing the time,” said Wally.

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.” Shazam rooted through the empty and half-full bags of snacks till he found his communicator. Wally sulkily opened the pretzels.

“Shazam,” said Cyborg. “My man. Did you put stickers on your communicator?”

Glancing up Wally saw what had caught his attention; a flash of something pink and sparkly on the flat surface of Shazam’s comm.

“Oh, no, I –” Looking at his sparkle-bedecked comm, Shazam seemed to think better of however the hell he’d been going to explain it. Plastering on a smile he said, “Well, y’know, I’m a sticker guy. I like stickers!”

“Are those unicorns?” said Wally, marvelling.

Shazam wrapped his hand protectively around his comm. “I like unicorns.”

“Yeah, whatever man,” said Cyborg. “You do you.”

Wally ate a pretzel. “So you got anything on for your day off?” he said to Cyborg. “Or nothing better to do than come down here and bother us while we’re working?”

“You’re not working,” said Cyborg.

“Are so.”

“You’re eating pretzels and potato chips.”

“We’re on a break,” Shazam protested.

“You guys realise I can see you through the security cameras, right?” said Cyborg. “You’ve been eating pretzels and potato chips all morning.”

“I’m fuelling up,” said Wally. “Gotta get my calories in. Seriously, though, what’s up? I wanna know what you do with your downtime?”

“Oh, I’m watching Breaking Bad,” said Cyborg.

“Oh, really?” Wally sat up straighter in his seat. “You know I never actually watched it? How is it?”

“Kind of overrated.”

“Aw,” said Wally.

Before he could go on, Cyborg’s gaze suddenly jerked away, towards the control panel. Shazam was scrambling out of his chair, reaching to turn up the volume. “Uh-oh.”

“Seriously?” Wally threw up his hands, not even bothering to look. “Right now? Today?”

“Yep,” said Cyborg.

“Where?”

“Metropolis,” said Shazam. “Looks like Supes is already on the scene.”

“Call in the rest of the team,” said Cyborg.

“On it,” said Shazam.

Wally shoved the rest of the bag of pretzels into his mouth and pulled on his mask. “Let’s get to work.”

His comm started buzzing just after eleven.

“Shit,” he muttered, groping desperately under his pillow. “Shit, shit, shit.” He scrambled down the bunk bed ladder – “Shit.”

Shoving open the window he hooked a leg over the sill. “Shit – Shazam.”

He jumped.

When his feet touched the ground he hit the button on his comm, just before it rang out. “Hey, there!” he said, trying to sound like he hadn’t just jumped out of his bedroom window. “How’s it going?”

“Shazam,” said the Batman, as gravelly and no-nonsense as usual. “Apologies for calling you so late in the evening.”

“It’s – fine, I wasn’t sleeping,” he lied. “I don’t, y’know, have a bedtime. Cause I’m. An adult. What’s up?”

“I have a mission for you.”

He glanced up at the open window of his bedroom. “Right now?”

“Not now,” said the Batman. “Tomorrow morning. Are you available?”

“Saturday morning?” he said. “Always. What do you need?”

“How comfortable are you with undercover work?”

The question hung in the silent air of the alley. He toyed with his comm, not sure how to answer. “How’d you mean?”

“We traced the symbols,” said the Batman.

“Ohh yeah?”

“They match an engraving on a Bronze Age Greek artefact known as the Axe of Sarpedon,” said the Batman.

“Cool,” he said, still kind of lost as to where the conversation was even going. “Cool, cool. Where is it?”

“It was in the Metropolis Central Museum, but it was stolen a few months back,” said the Batman. “Diana’s going to the museum tomorrow to see what she can find out. Wally’s going along for back up. Are you available?”

He leaned heavily against the wall and tried to think what to say. In the end he blurted out, “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to,” said the Batman. “I just thought that since you know something about magic you might be able to assist. Do you have a problem with working undercover?”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to help,” he said. “I really – I don’t know that much about magic. I know it’s kind of my thing, but it’s just – it’s complicated.”

“Even if your knowledge wouldn’t be of use I’d appreciate if you could go along,” said the Batman. “It’d be better to have a third person on the team for security. Aquaman isn’t available. Cyborg is out. Superman can’t work undercover – he’s too recognisable.”

“My face is pretty recognisable too, y’know,” he pointed out.

“In Metropolis? You’ll pass if you’re careful.”

“Any reason you can’t go?”

There was a protracted silence on the comm line.

“I don’t do undercover.”

“Right, right,” he said.

Just say no, he told himself. He said you don’t gotta do it. You don’t have to do it. It’s a real bad idea. Just say you can’t and go back to bed.

“Well?” said the Batman.

His shoulders sagged. “What time?”

“Eleven,” said the Batman. “Outside the museum. Don’t be late.”

As he clambered back in through the window, Freddy raised his head from the pillow. He screwed up his face in the dim light and said, “Are you coming in or going out?”

“Coming in.”

Freddy blinked. “I miss something?”

“Just taking a call.” He shut the window as quietly as he could. It squeaked.

“Ohh?” Freddy pushed himself blearily up on an elbow. “What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Is it –”

He shoved Freddy face-first into the pillow, making him yelp. “I’ll tell you in the morning,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not a bad way to start the day, huh?” said Wally. “Brisk early morning run to Metropolis.”

“I wouldn’t call eleven AM early,” said Diana.

“Give me a break,” said Wally. “It’s the weekend.”

They were in the square outside the museum. Pigeons were scratching at the ground. The LexCorp tower glittered in the distance. Diana looked, as ever, immaculately put together and simultaneously like she’d put on the first thing that fell out of the closet that morning in a cream shirt and brown slacks. Wally kind of wished he’d dressed up a little more, but it wasn’t as if the Bat had set a dress code.

He sipped his coffee and checked his phone. It was four minutes till eleven.

He didn’t need to ask about the plan. It wasn’t complicated. Diana had made an appointment to speak to one of the curators about their Bronze Age artefacts – how she’d managed it at such short notice he hadn’t asked. Connections, he assumed. He was there as her assistant, which in practice meant he was there to look pretty and provide back up in the really unlikely event that anything went wrong.

Even if something did go wrong it wasn’t likely Diana would need back up. She was pretty much a one-woman army. But it was good to have someone at your back.

If nothing else it would be nice to have a day wandering around a museum. Maybe once they were done he could talk her into going sight-seeing. He hadn’t seen much of Metropolis.

He said, “You doing anything after?”

“We don’t know how long this is going to take.”

“Right, right,” he said. “Have you been to the museum before? Do they have anything cool?”

“They have many lovely paintings,” she said. “I don’t know if any of them would be to your tastes.”

“I like paintings,” he said. “What, do you think I’m uncultured or something? I have culture. I have culture coming out of my ass.”

She laughed, mercifully. “We can go and see some paintings,” she said. “If you –”

Looking at something over his shoulder, she frowned. “Oh.”

“What?” He twisted around to look. “Uh-oh.”

Coming across the square towards them – at a gait he could only describe as shambling and furtive – was Shazam. He was wearing a beige trench coat like he was an old-time private eye or something. He had his hands shoved in its pockets and he kept glancing around to check no-one was looking at him (people were looking). Even hunched over he stood taller than the rest of the crowd. He looked like a giant, weirdo Inspector Gadget.

“Hey, guys,” he said as he reached them.

“Sh-” Wally caught himself just in time. He looked around to make sure no-one was paying too much attention to them and dropping his voice said, “What are you wearing?”

Shazam looked down at himself. He said, “A coat?”

Wally looked to Diana for help. She met his gaze and said nothing. Ugh. Not helpful.

He put his hand gently on Shazam’s shoulder and said, “You, uh. You get that we’re supposed to be – non-recognisable today, right?”

“Well, yeah,” said Shazam. “That’s why I’m wearing the coat.”

“Do you have – any idea how conspicuous you look right now?”

“Look, I did my best, alright?” said Shazam.

“This – this, this is your best?” Wally waved a hand at him, trying to take in the entire – look. “This is the best you could do?” He looked again to Diana, desperate for some support – any support. He felt like he was going crazy.

“Could you not have worn a different coat?” said Diana, as if the type of coat was the issue.

“I only got the one.”

“You only got one –” Wally glimpsed a flash of red, beneath the coat. He looked down. He blinked, hard. “Are you, uh.” He plucked at Shazam’s sleeve. “My man. My dude. Are you wearing this over your costume?”

“Yeah,” said Shazam.

“Why are you,” said Wally, struggling to find the words to convey just how hard he wanted to ask what the fuck was going on. “Why?”

“Look, buddy,” Shazam threw up his hands, “the costume doesn’t come off, okay?”

“I think the costume could have come off just for this one day?” said Wally.

“Nope,” said Shazam.

Wally waited for him to elaborate. He did not elaborate.

Turning to Diana, he said, “A little help here?”

Diana had a hand pressed to her mouth in thought. She took a deep breath in. She said, “No. This isn’t going to work. Go home, we’ll handle this by ourselves.”

“Oh thank you,” said Shazam, his whole body visibly sagging in relief. “Thank you,” he said, patting her gratefully on the shoulder. “You’re the best. Thank you. See you later.”

He patted Wally’s shoulder for good measure and muttering a goodbye shambled off the way he’d come.

They stood side by side, watching his retreating back. After a moment Diana said, “Does he have super hearing?”

“Don’t think so,” said Wally. “He’s never mentioned it.”

“Hm.” She tilted her head to the side to watch him leave the square. Turning to Wally she said, “That was weird, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just me?”

“Yeah!” Wally threw up his arms. “That was super weird! That was fantastically, unbelievably weird! What gave it away?”

“I’m never sure how to tell with men.”

“Are you – suggesting any of that was normal male behaviour?” said Wally. “Cause – no. That was not normal. He’s not normal. I don’t know what his problem is. Inspector Gadget looking motherfucker.”

“Inspector Gadget?” she said, puzzled.

“He – never mind.” Wally touched her lightly on the arm. “C’mon. Let’s just do this.”

So, the museum had been a bust. If anyone there knew anything about the axe being magic they were real good at hiding it. They sure as hell didn’t know where it was. Cyborg and the Bat were putting their heads together to trace who might have bought it. So far, no joy. The whole mission was stalling.

Unfortunately, the attacks were – not stalling.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself as he ran through the skeleton of the building. “Come on –”

This week it was a snake as long as two buses end to end – big enough to swallow him whole. It was big, and fast. He was faster.

It had followed him into the half-built structure and already it was struggling to manoeuvre in the tight space. He sped out the other side – turned – raced back through the building, fast enough that it couldn’t catch him but not so fast it wouldn’t see him. He went past it and hissing like a screeching train it tried to follow, thrusting its blunt head through an empty doorway.

“That’s right, baby,” he said to himself, “just follow me –”

He made another pass – led it on deeper into the building, down a hall, through another doorway – its tail was still struggling to clear the first one, whipping back and forth, the rough surface of its clay scales snagging on the door frame.

One last pass – straight through the building – he dove out the window, skidding down onto the dusty ground and it lunged after him, through the empty glassless window – and jerked to a halt.

Wedged in place. Writhing, flakes of dry clay peeling off its scales as it squirmed, trying to free itself. Trying to go for the kill.

There was a rushing in the air above him – and lightning struck it once – twice. Bolts of electricity ran over its scales, crackling and fizzing as its clay body went stiff and rigid – and half a second later, with a final crash, it shattered.

Shards of dry clay and dust rained down around him. He brushed his shoulders clean and looked up.

“Teamwork!” said Shazam, floating to the ground. “Nice.” He held up his hand for a high five.

“Hell, yeah,” said Wally, returning it.

They were back in Chicago, on a construction site near the edge of the city. Weird place to send your fucked-up clay monstrosities, given that it was pretty much deserted. But he wasn’t about to start complaining about a lack of casualties.

“How many more?” he said.

“Not sure,” said Shazam. “I –”

A roaring sound overhead. Atop one of the half-constructed, empty buildings, a hulking clay creature. Like all the others it looked kind of unformed, like it hadn’t been baked all the way; its body misshapen, mottled grey and green, shedding flakes of dry clay as it moved. It had claws – teeth that looked sharp enough to rend flesh – wings like a bat.

As they watched, it threw back its head and vomited dust at the sky like smoke.

“Ooh, boy,” said Shazam.

“Is that a dragon?” said Wally.

“Oh, man that is cool!” said Shazam.

“That is not cool!”

“It’s a little cool.” Shazam caught his eye. He was grinning. “C’mon.”

“It might be cool if it wasn’t trying to kill us,” Wally conceded.

The clay dragon beat its wings once – twice – and took to the skies.

“I got this.” Shazam leapt into the air, taking flight with an ease Wally had always kind of envied.

“You want some help?” he said.

“What are you gonna do from the ground?” said Shazam, rising higher. “Don’t worry,” he said, throwing up one of his goofy salutes. “I can handle this. Trust me.”

Wally returned the salute and watched, hands upon his hips, as Shazam flew away to fight the dragon.

“Crazy son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself.

The monsters they were fighting were getting stronger. At first his lightning had blown them to bits no problem, but with each attack they got a little tougher. A little harder to kill.

The dragon was – real stubborn.

He had his arms around its neck. It was twisting in the air, snapping, hissing, beating its wings as it tried to buck him off, as he shocked it again, and again. “Why – won’t – you – die,” he said through gritted teeth.

Its only response was a screech and a blast of dust right into his stinging eyes. It wheeled in the air, the ground spinning beneath them, drawing closer.

“You’re just – making this harder for yourself,” he panted, eyes streaming, shocking it again and really giving it his all this time. Its whole body jerked, splintered, one wing cracking in two – but still it didn’t give.

Its left wing useless, crumbling into shards of clay, it began to drop, unable to keep itself in the air. Undeterred it twisted its neck, snapping at him, intent on ripping out his goddamn throat, and he grabbed for its horns, wrenching its fanged mouth away.

Its teeth were really sharp. Its eyes were cold and unfeeling. It was barely even alive, and he wanted it dead so bad. The air was rushing past them – in the confusion of the fight he’d all but lost track of what direction they were moving.

“Aw, hell with this,” he said. “Shazam.”

The lightning came, brilliant white and glittering, and the dragon exploded, bursting into muddy fragments of clay –

– a split second later it hit him, rushing through his body, and he was himself again, freefalling through the air, the wind whooshing past his ears.

It was hard to breathe. He struggled to draw in a breath. “Sha-”

The ground hit him really hard. The world went pitch black.

He ached all over. His vision was foggy; he blinked, hard, till it cleared. There was blood in his mouth. He spat it out.

He was lying on his side in the dirt. With some difficulty he rolled onto his back, gazing up at the vibrant blue sky. He breathed deep, and took stock of his situation. He felt like he’d been out for hours but fragments of the clay dragon were still settling around him like falling snow; he could only have been knocked out for a couple of seconds. The whole right side of his body felt like it was on fire. It hurt worse when he breathed in, and when he breathed out.

He’d bit his tongue pretty bad.

Okay, he thought. Okay. This was bad. He did not feel good. But he’d deal with it later. Right now he just had to say the thing and get back to work. He was pretty sure no-one had seen.

He had to say the thing, and get up off the ground. He’d just – he was just gonna catch his breath first.

He breathed in.

Somewhere nearby there was a gentle whooshing sound – the sound of something moving in the air. There was the soft tread of feet on the ground. Before he could fully process what he was hearing, a shadow loomed.

Superman stood over him. His face was – stern. His eyes were hard, as he looked down at him. He said nothing.

He didn’t need to. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in Billy’s mind, looking into those eyes, just what he was thinking.

He let his head fall back against the dirt. He said, “Aw, hell.”

Chapter Text

Superman said, “Can you stand?”

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “I think so.”

Wordlessly, Superman offered him his hand. He took it, and let himself be hauled shakily to his feet, conscious all the time of the steel-hard strength in that grip. He’d known how strong Superman was; experiencing it first hand, in his own body, was something else.

Billy looked up at him. Their eyes met once again, and Superman’s gaze was – cold. Difficult to read. Real pissed off. The kind of look he’d never planned on being on the wrong end of. He towered over Billy like a giant – like he could block out the sun, he was so big.

“You’re hurt.” Superman reached for his shoulder, as if trying to steady him; god, he must look a mess.

Billy shrugged him off. “I’m okay.”

“You fell – pretty far.”

“I’ll be okay.” His throat hurt. He swallowed. It didn’t help. “I’ll walk it off.”

Superman nodded, slowly. His gaze hadn’t softened, but something in it had changed. He said, “How old are you?”

“Almost fifteen,” he said.

Another slow, contemplative nod.

The thing was, he was sure there were any number of ways he could play this off. But he ached all over and his chest was screaming at him every time he breathed in and his head was getting too swimmy to think it through. Even if he could think it through, he didn’t know if there was any point. Superman knew what the deal was. Whether he’d already suspected or he’d just now figured it out Billy didn’t know, but he knew. And Billy had no idea what to say.

The only small consolation was that Superman didn’t seem to know what to say either.

He stood up straighter, breathing through the grinding pain in his side, and said, “We good?”

Superman was a vibrant blue figure against the drab grey of the construction site; there was a smaller figure next to him, in red. A kid, he realised as he drew closer. Probably wandered over to see what the fuss was all about and had to get his ass saved. Wouldn’t be the first time. Some people had no sense.

“Hey,” said Wally as he slithered to a halt, finding his footing amongst the broken masonry and clay chunks littering the ground. He looked at the kid. He was older than he’d registered from a distance. Pale, and shaky. Clutching his side and – yikes – bleeding from a cut near his hairline. “You okay, buddy?”

The kid nodded.

He opened his mouth to go on – to say something like hey, let’s get you off this construction site and back to – wherever it is you’re supposed to be – but before he could speak Superman said,

“What’s the situation?”

“Oh, uh,” said Wally. “Under control. I think Wonder Woman and Cyborg can handle the last one between them.” There was a distant boom from across the construction site. He glanced over his shoulder at the rising smoke. “Yeah, I think they got it.”

“Good,” said Superman.

The kid’s eyes were moving kind of anxiously between him and Wally as they spoke, and it struck Wally for the first time that the energy between him and Superman was – really weird.

He wasn’t the best at reading the room, as a rule, but it was – weird, that they were just standing around a few hundred yards away from an active situation. It was weird, the way Supes wasn’t even looking at the kid. It was super weird, the way the kid was looking at him. Wally had seen the way kids got around Supes – even big kids who liked to pretend they were too cool to care about superheroes. Kids loved Supes.

This one had a look in his eyes he could only describe as haunted. He was looking up at Superman like he was afraid of him. He kind of looked like he was about to pee his pants.

He put on his gentlest talking-to-kids face and stepping closer said, “You sure you’re okay?” The kid shrank back. “Whoa,” said Wally, holding up his hands. “Hey. It’s okay.”

He looked to Superman for support, and got none. His face was unreadable.

Something else struck him. He’d seen Shazam in the sky, grapping with the dragon – he’d seen them going down, before he’d turned away to help Diana and Vic. He’d been pretty sure they’d hit the ground around about where he was standing. There were chunks of ex-dragon clay on the ground.

Shazam was – big, and loud, and eye-catching. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could lose track of easy. But Wally couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Hey,” he said, “where’s Shazam? I thought I saw –”

He trailed off. Superman’s face had gone – real stern. Still hard to read, but inexplicably pissed. And the kid – the kid was looking up at Superman, his eyes big. It was a desperate, pleading look – a please don’t give me away look.

Superman met the kid’s eyes, just for a moment. Then turning to Wally he gestured at him and said, “This is Shazam.”

Wally’s brain ran into a brick wall with a wet thud. “What?”

“No I’m not,” said the kid, real fast.

“What are you talking about?” Wally said.

“He’s –” said Superman.

“Don’t –” the kid pleaded.

“He’s Shazam.”

Wally looked at Superman, his stern, serious face, his crossed arms; he looked at the kid, pale and shaky and still bleeding. “I don’t understand.”

“Please don’t,” said the kid faintly.

“It’s some kind of – transformation,” said Superman, and the kid’s eyes fell closed, his face sinking in resignation.

“It’s what?” said Wally.

“I saw it happen.”

That short statement hung in the air between the three of them. The moment dragged on, tense and heavy. The kid had opened his eyes and was looking at Wally, bleakly, warily waiting for his reaction.

You didn’t have to know Superman well – or at all, really – to know he wouldn’t lie about something this important. Wally definitely knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t say something like that unless he was stone-cold certain. If he said the kid was Shazam then he believed it; if Superman believed it then probably it was –

It wasn’t just that. Stuff was knocking together inside his head; things that had never added up before, starting to add up in a way he couldn’t yet fully verbalise.

He looked at the kid – looked at him properly. There was dust on his clothes and blood in his hair. He was shaking. He didn’t look steady on his feet. Wally’s instinct was to go over there and help him – make sure he didn’t pass out in the dirt or something – get him somewhere safe. But he knew a stay away from me look when he saw one, and he was getting a hardcore one right now.

He had a lot of questions. He ought to save them for later. He knew he ought to.

He blurted out, “How old are you?”

The kid wet his lips. “I’m fifteen.”

Before Wally could even start processing that, Superman held up a hand, signalling the kid to be quiet. “He’s fourteen.”

“You’re –” Wally reeled. “How long have you been fourteen?”

The kid shrugged. “Since I was thirteen?”

“Jesus Christ.” He couldn’t get his head around it. It was like the whole world had just been shaken on its foundations and he couldn’t find his footing. It was like the whole world had just gone fucking crazy. “Jesus Christ. Do your parents know where you are right now?”

“I don’t have parents.”

“You don’t –” As he spoke the kid adjusted his grip on his side, wincing in pain, and the gesture jolted Wally back into the present moment and its more pressing issues. “You don’t look good.”

“I’m fine,” the kid protested, “I’ll be fine.”

It crossed Wally’s mind that he might be right. If the kid was Shazam – he was Shazam – then who the hell knew how his body worked. He sure didn’t look invincible right now, but who knew? “Are you,” said Wally, stammering, not even sure how to put what he wanted to ask into words. “I mean, are you –” He swallowed. “How is this even possible?”

The kid said, “A wizard.”

“A wiz- are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding around right now?” the kid snapped – and doubled over, his face screwing up in pain.

“I really don’t think you’re okay, son,” said Superman.

The kid looked up at him, and said nothing.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” Superman asked.

“Yeah,” said the kid weakly.

“Your ribs might be broken.” Superman took a step closer, reaching out to steady him. “Let me –”

“Don’t –” The kid made a faltering attempt to step away. Superman’s hand connected with his shoulder and he twisted, jerking out of his grip. “Don’t – don’t touch me!”

For a moment none of them spoke. Wally watched, a cold feeling in his chest, as Superman held up his hands. “Hey – hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

He was using his kindest voice – the soft, calming tone he brought out for comforting scared children. The kid must have recognised it too, cause his mouth twisted in disdain and he said, “Aw, don’t do that.”

“Alright.” Superman dropped the voice. “This is what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna take you to the hospital and then we’re gonna take you home, okay? And then this stops. Do you understand?”

The kid was shaking his head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Do you understand me?” said Superman again, as if the kid hadn’t spoken. “You’re too young to be doing this. It needs to stop.”

“Do we have to talk about this right now, Supes?” put in Wally. Neither of them paid attention.

“You can’t make me stop.”

“This isn’t a discussion.”

“Supes –” Wally pleaded.

“This stops, now,” said Superman. “Or –”

“Or what?” said the kid, and Superman fell silent. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Son –”

“I’m not your son.” Wincing, the kid straightened up. “If I wanna do this how are you going to stop me?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” said Superman. “It ends, now. Do you hear me?”

The kid opened his mouth to reply – but whatever he was going to say, he was interrupted by Diana making one of her abrupt entrances. She dropped heavily to the ground from the roof of the half-constructed building they stood in the shadow of, raising up a knee-high cloud of dust. How much – if any – of the conversation she’d heard Wally didn’t know.

“It’s dead,” she said, matter-of-fact as always. She looked around at the three of them, taking in the kid – and noticing, undoubtedly, the weird energy Wally had picked up on. “What’s going on?”

The kid looked up at her, his face bleak. Then slowly, deliberately, he took a step backwards.

“Hey – don’t –” said Superman.

The kid took another step back. He was going to bolt, Wally realised. It wasn’t like he’d get far – but he didn’t want to have to chase him down.

“Don’t do it, kid,” he warned him.

Another step, his feet slipping on the rough ground.

“What is going on?” said Diana to Wally and Superman. She looked the kid up and down. “Who are you?”

The kid’s face set, resolved. He said, “Shazam.”

Wally opened his mouth to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean – but before he could get so much as a word out his vision went white.

A blinding white flash; an ear-splitting crack. He blinked away spots, dazzled, baffled, and amidst the smoke and the ringing in his ears he glimpsed the red blur of Shazam shooting upwards.

“No you don’t –” he heard Superman say as he took off after him.

Wally rubbed at his eyes, the smoke clearing. There was a scorch mark on the ground where the kid had been standing.

“What was that?” said Diana.

He looked up; both of them were already out of sight. He said, “That was Shazam.”

“I don’t understand,” said Diana.

“Yeah, well,” he said. “You and me both.”

Superman came back into view, floating unhurried back down to earth. “He’s gone,” he said as he touched the ground.

“Gone where?” said Diana.

“I don’t know,” said Superman. “Didn’t see. There was another flash and he disappeared.”

“I don’t understand,” Diana said again – this time sounding kind of affronted about it. “I don’t understand what just happened.”

“Hey,” said Cyborg, rounding Diana, joining the group. “What’s going on?” He glanced skywards. “Where’d Shazam go in a hurry?”

The three of them exchanged looks.

Superman said, “We need to talk.”

Getting in through the bedroom window was always – a harder operation than getting out. He got his balance on the sill. He got his balance, and –

“Shazam –”

– he almost fell into the alley.

“Shit,” he said, scrabbling at the window frame, desperately trying to regain his balance, sharp hot pain flaring through his side. His head was swimming. “Oh, god – oh shit, god damn it –”

“Billy?”

The bedroom door rattled open, and he felt a rush of relief at the sound.

“Billy – oh god, Billy.” Freddy scrambled across the room to help him through the window. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Billy took his hand and struggled over the sill. “I –” His foot slipped and he half fell into the bedroom, smacking his leg hard against the window frame. “Fuck – Freddy I think I broke all my ribs.”

“Oh my god,” said Freddy, trying to steady him as he swayed on his feet. “I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“I can’t.” His stomach was rolling.

“But –”

“You know we can’t,” said Billy. “I just – I’ll be okay.” He brushed Freddy off and braced himself against the desk.

“How did this even happen?” said Freddy. “You’re supposed to be invincible?”

His mouth worked for a moment as he tried to think how to explain. He said, “I fucked up.”

“I’ll say,” said Freddy. He swallowed. “I guess – I guess this answers some questions about the transformation, huh? And, and what happens if your human body gets hurt and then you transform and transform back – cause I’ve been wondering if the magic resets our body or if it, it –” He stammered to a halt. “Billy, you really don’t look good.”

Billy touched his aching ribs. “I just need to – lie down or something.” With shaky fingers, he unzipped his hoodie. He pulled up his shirt and inspected himself. The bruises on his ribs were already coming up dark blue.

Freddy hissed. “Oh, that looks real bad,” he said. “I think we should get Rosa.”

“Don’t,” said Billy, catching his wrist. “You can’t.”

They couldn’t tell Rosa and Victor he was hurt without telling them – something to explain how he got hurt, and he was too groggy to think of a decent lie and Freddy would try and cover for him but he sucked at coming up with good covers on the fly – and even if they could bluff their foster-parents if they went to the hospital it’d go on his medical record and social services would want to know why he was all covered in bruises and if their cover story fell apart, then –

“It’s okay,” said Freddy. “It’ll be okay. We can just – figure it out ourselves, right? What do you do for broken ribs?” Billy didn’t answer. “Okay, okay, I can google it – I can just look it up, right? We can work it out and you’ll be okay.”

“Uh-huh,” said Billy. His head was getting fuzzier.

“Billy?”

“I’m,” he said. “I really don’t feel good.

He made an unsteady move for the bunkbed, but his legs gave out under him. The whole room tilted on his side. He was dimly aware of Freddy saying his name but his head hurt so bad he could barely think, and his stomach was churning, and he couldn’t – he was gonna –

Doubling over he threw up on the carpet.

“Oh no – oh no –” said Freddy.

As he stared, bleakly, at the mess he’d made, Freddy raised his voice and cried out high and panicked, “Rosa! Rosa – help –”

Footsteps pounded on the stairs. He wiped a hand across his mouth and braced himself for the inevitable.

It was dark outside by the time they drove home from the ER. It was just the two of them in the van, him and Rosa. He sat in the passenger seat, his head still pounding, scrunching the paper bag of painkillers they’d given him between his hands. Streetlamps flashed silently by outside the window.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Rosa said.

“I already told you,” he said to his reflection. “I fell off the top bunk.”

“Uh-huh,” said Rosa.

He knew she didn’t believe him. It was about the most obvious lie they could have told.

“I know you snuck out earlier.”

“I didn’t sneak out,” he said. “I went out the front door.” He just – hadn’t told them he was leaving. He didn’t have to tell them everything he was doing.

“Where did you go?”

“I had stuff to do.”

“Billy,” she said. “We’ve talked about this.”

He usually came up with a better excuse – or else one of the other kids would come up with a better one for him. But he was so tired. He didn’t have the energy to lie.

He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Did you get hurt after sneaking out?”

“No,” he said. “I fell off the top bunk.”

Rosa muttered a curse word and started to pull over.

Billy raised his head from the seat. “Why are we stopping?”

The car drew up at the side of the road, in the warm puddle of light beneath a streetlamp.

“Rosa?” he said. “I’m sorry – I’m really sorry about today, and I’m tired, and can we just go home?”

She turned off the engine. Holding the steering wheel in both hands, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever she was about to say.

Then she looked at him. “Billy,” she said. “I’m gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me, okay?”

“Okay,” he said.

“I want you to promise me,” she said.

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me the truth,” she said. “Can you do that for me?”

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, jeez, I promise. What’s the matter?”

She didn’t say anything. Her gaze drifted away, out the windshield, at the passing cars. For a moment she closed her eyes. Then she said, “Billy. Are you Shazam?”

There was a moment of numb confusion, of disbelief as he processed – tried to process – the question. His mouth worked. He tried to speak.

“What?” he said. “Why – why would you ask me that? Why would you think that?”

“Billy.” She had her hand over her mouth. She wasn’t looking at him.

“That’s insane,” he said, finding his footing. “That’s crazy, why would you ask me that?”

It was – easier than he’d thought it would be, to lie. But then it wasn’t as if he had to fake being completely weirded out by the question. He had no idea how convincing he sounded – how obvious it was that he was lying.

“Billy.” She picked up her phone and, slowly, unlocked the screen. She opened up YouTube – she had a video already open. “Watch this for me?”

The video was – shaky, and grainy. Zoomed in from a distant on someone’s phone camera. It was of the construction site in Chicago, but it wasn’t of Shazam. It was Superman, punching one of the clay constructs to bits. When it crumbled away he flew up and the camera followed him, tracking his movements.

And there, in the background, was Shazam, grappling in the air with the dragon. With the footage being so grainy and him being so out of focus, you could barely see him. He was a red splotch against the grey.

A bright flash of lightning. Superman pulled away, flying higher up, and the camera followed him – and just for a moment, before the view shifted away, he saw himself, falling.

He was a dot. A red speck in the air. If you didn’t know what you were looking at you’d never realise what had happened.

“Do you see?” said Rosa as the video ended.

He shrugged. “See what?”

She scrolled back through the video, back past the flash of lightning, letting it play out again – and paused. “Is that you?”

“Is what me?” he said. “What am I looking at?”

She pointed.

“Why would you think that’s me?” he said. “It’s like two pixels.”

If you knew what you were looking at, you could see that it was him. But there was no way she could know for sure what she was looking at.

“You think I can’t recognise my own foster kids?” she said.

His arms folded tight across his chest he said, “That’s not me.”

“For God’s sake.” She turned off her phone screen. “I thought maybe if I asked you straight out you might be honest.”

“I’m not,” he stammered. “I –”

There were tears in her eyes. She’d already known, he realised. She’d already put the pieces together. She’d only asked him to see what he’d say.

He breathed out. He said, “I’m sorry.”

“So it’s true?”

He looked at his lap. He was holding the paper bag so tight his knuckles had turned yellow. “Does Victor know?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t talked to him yet.”

He said nothing.

“Freddy knows.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” he said.

“He’s been covering for you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do the other kids know?”

He took a deep breath. “Please don’t be mad at them,” he said, his voice unsteady. “This is my thing. It’s all my fault.”

“We have to talk to them,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “I know. Just please don’t get mad. Please?”

“That’s not up to you.”

Letting the paper bag slip from his grip, he put his head in his hands. “When did you – figure it out?”

“Today,” she said. “I saw it – I saw you on the news.”

“You figured it out just from that video?” He felt a cold clutch in his guts, at the thought of who else might have seen.

“Not just that,” she said. “I – we knew you were keeping something from us. I just never thought it was this.”

“Oh, god,” he said softly.

“How could you not tell us?”

Billy shrugged.

“Does the – Justice League know?”

He breathed out. “They do now.”

“They found out today?”

He sunk steadily lower in his seat, sliding down till his feet touched the front of the car.

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“I don’t see that it’s their business,” said Billy. “Most of them have secret identities.”

“They’re grown adults, Billy!” she said. “They can – put on costumes and fight aliens and – and mad scientists if that’s what they want. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m fourteen –”

“You’re a kid, Billy,” she said. “You can’t – you can’t do things like this. Do you even understand how reckless you were being?”

He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I was trying to help.”

“You could have got yourself killed.”

“Shazam’s invincible –”

“You’re not!”

He bit his tongue.

“How could you do this?” she said. “And, and get the other kids involved? Billy, what were you thinking?”

“Do you think I chose this?”

The words burst out of him before he could stop them. His heart was pounding. Their eyes met. For a moment she said nothing.

“Did you?”

He looked away.

“Billy. Did you?”

He shrugged.

“Billy,” she said. “Billy – please talk to me.”

“You remember,” he said slowly. “The first day I came to live with you. When I didn’t come home from school.” He wet his lips. “It happened then.”

“What happened then,” she said. “Billy. What happened to you?”

“It was a wizard.”

“A –”

“He took me to the – to this, this temple place, where he lived,” he said. “He told me he had to pass on his powers to a champion so they could save the world and stuff. And then he turned me into Shazam.”

For a long moment, as she processed what he was saying, Rosa didn’t speak. She was gripping the steering wheel tight, staring out the dark windshield.

“Did he,” she said, slowly, deliberately, “ask? If you wanted to do it?”

“Kinda,” said Billy.

“Kinda?”

“He – I mean, I –” He breathed out. “I guess. I guess I didn’t really know what I was agreeing to.”

“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God, Billy.” Her grip on the steering wheel loosened. “This man, he – abducted you and – did something to your body?”

“What?” said Billy. “No, it – it wasn’t like that. I – I guess he did abduct me, kind of. But, like – he meant well, and –”

“Where is he now?” said Rosa. “Can I talk to him?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“I mean gone as in dead,” said Billy.

“Oh, God.” She breathed out, shakily, and wiped her hands over her face. “Okay. Okay. I’m just – I’m glad this is finally – I’m glad it’s over.”

“It’s not over,” Billy said.

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m not stopping.”

“Billy –”

“The wizard gave me this power so I could help people,” he said. “He gave it to me so I could save the world. I can’t just not use it.”

“The world can wait till you’re older,” she said.

“Sometimes it can’t!” He slumped lower in his seat. “I’m sorry for not telling you. And I’m really sorry for getting hurt today. But I’m not sorry for doing it.”

“Billy.”

“I’m not.”

He’d sunk so low in his seat that he could only just see through the window. He could make out the reflection of his own eyes, heavy-lidded and exhausted. His chest hurt. His heard hurt. His throat was getting tight.

He breathed in. It ached. “Are you,” he said, and swallowed. His throat was really dry. It was getting hard to talk. “Are you gonna kick me out?”

He heard her shift in the driver’s seat. “What?”

“Are you gonna –”

“Billy – why would you think that?” she said.

“Cause I lied to you.” His voice cracked. “Cause I messed up – really bad.”

“Billy, we would never do that to you,” she said. “I thought – you’re part of our family, Billy. Never ever. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” He sniffed.

He unfastened his seatbelt and slumped over the dashboard, burying his face in his arms. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone since he was a baby. He wasn’t going to start tonight.

“Billy.” She put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off. “Oh, baby, it’ll be okay. We’ll work this out. Together. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said into his arms.

For a long few seconds, she didn’t speak. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sleeve of his hoodie growing damp beneath his face. He took a deep breath in, and out.

“I’m – actually a little relieved,” she said. “We were worried you might have joined a gang.”

“A gang?” He raised his head, incredulous. “Why would I join a gang?”

“I don’t know, Billy!” she said. “I don’t know why you do most of the things you do.”

“If I was gonna join a gang I’d have done it years ago.” She handed him a Kleenex. “Thanks.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she said.

“Yeah.” He wiped at his face.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay,” she said. “Good. That’s good. You’re grounded.”

It took a moment for the words to sink into his soggy brain. “I’m grounded?” His mouth worked. “For how long?”

“We’ll figure that out at home,” she said.

“I thought you and Victor had to agree on stuff like this?”

“Do you really think he’s gonna argue with me?” She started the engine. “Put your seatbelt back on.”

“This is messed up,” said Wally.

The statement hung in the dark and silent air of the Watchtower.

“I just want to put that out there, okay?” he added. “Before we start. It’s messed up.”

“I think we’re all on the same page on that, Wally,” said Cyborg.

It’d been a couple of days since Chicago. It had taken them a while to get them all in the same place – they were still waiting on Arthur, who’d been off doing whatever the hell he did underwater. Enough time for them all to digest what had happened.

So there they were. Sitting at the table, with a conspicuously empty chair beside them.

“We’re not here to discuss his – situation,” said the Batman, taking Wally’s bare-faced statement as a signal to start the conversation. “We need to make some decisions.”

“He’s out of the League,” said Diana.

“Agreed,” said Superman.

“This needs to be a group decision,” Batman reminded them.

They’d agreed on that from the start. Nobody was in charge. Nobody got to make unilateral decisions. The Batman might have brought them all together but he was a chairperson, not a dictator.

He was looking to Wally and Vic, for their input.

Wally breathed out. “I don’t know.” It had only been a few days. He was still reeling. He’d lain awake at night, his mind racing, going over and over it. He still didn’t know what to do.

“I’m on the fence,” said Vic – though Wally wouldn’t describe himself as on the fence. He was about a million miles above the fence, frozen in indecision. “I don’t like this, but I don’t like the either of losing one of our heaviest hitters.”

“We don’t need him,” said Diana. “We worked fine before he joined the League and we’ll work fine with him gone.”

“Even so –”

“You didn’t see the kid, Vic,” said Wally. “About – so high? Real baby faced, looked like he was about to piss himself. Fourteen fucking years old.”

“Flash –”

“This is wrong,” said Wally.

“Absolutely,” said Diana.

“I just think there might be some nuance to the situation,” said Cyborg.

“There’s no nuance,” said Diana. “He’s a child. We don’t send children to war. End of discussion.”

The Batman said, quietly, “we aren’t at war, Diana.”

“Aren’t we?” said Diana. She studied him and Cyborg – studied their faces. “I can’t believe any of you are even considering this.”

“I didn’t want him on the team in the first place,” said Superman.

“Superman –” said the Batman.

“I told you something wasn’t right.”

The Batman tried to speak. Superman spoke over him.

“I told you and you didn’t listen to me.” He’d told all of them, of course, but he was addressing the Batman.

None of them spoke. Wally began, anxiously, to tap his fingers against the table.

“You’re right,” said Diana, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry.”

“Hm,” said Superman. Apology not really accepted, Wally thought.

“I just,” he said. “I don’t understand why we didn’t see it. How could we not see it?” A thought gripped him. “Oh my god. I talked to him about my sex life.”

“I think that’s the least of our problems, Flash,” said Superman.

“Can we stay on track?” said the Batman.

“He’s out of the League,” said Superman. “I have nothing else to say.”

“Flash?” said the Batman.

He breathed in, and out. “I guess,” he said. “I guess I’m with the Big Guy and Diana.”

He didn’t want to be. He didn’t want Shazam out of the League. He liked Shazam – he liked working with him. He liked the guy. But every time he thought of him the image rose up in his mind of the kid, the haunted look in his eyes, the blood dripping down his face. They’d done that. They’d put him in harm’s way. They’d got him hurt.

“Cyborg?” said the Batman.

Vic said, “I think –”

The meeting room door swished open. “Hey,” called out Arthur, sauntering to the table. “Starting without me?”

“You’re late,” said the Batman.

“I got held up.” Arthur swung himself into his chair with his usual nonchalant grace. “Jesus, you all look grim. What happened?” He looked around the table, noting the empty seat. “Shazam not joining us?”

Superman and the Bat exchanged a glance.

“We found out some – information,” said the Batman. “About Shazam’s secret identity that we need to discuss. We thought it was best to talk about it in person.”

A ripple of tension had gone through Arthur, as soon as he’d heard secret identity. “Are we in the business of digging into people’s private lives now?”

“This is – an unusual situation –”

Wally cut to the chase. “He’s fourteen.”

Arthur turned sharply to face him. “What?” His voice was a touch strangled. “C’mon, man,” he said, in marginally more casual tones. “No way is that guy fourteen.”

Shaking his head Wally turned to the Big Guy. “You take this.”

“It’s magic,” said Superman. “He undergoes some kind of – transformation.”

“No,” said Arthur.

“It changes him from a child into –”

“No no no no no,” said Arthur. “You guys are messing with me.”

“I wish we were,” said Superman.

“Me and Supes and Diana,” said Wally. “We all saw him do it.”

“It’s true,” said Diana.

Arthur looked from one of them to the other, studying their grim, serious faces. It dawned on him – fully dawned on him – just how not messing around they were. “Oh my god.”

The thing was – the thing about it was, it was one of those things you’d never think of, not for a moment. But once you saw it, it was all you could see.

Shazam didn’t drink coffee, or alcohol. He was almost never available before three o’clock on a weekday. He wouldn’t stay out later than nine if he could avoid it. He was even cagier about his life story than the Batman. The way he talked. The stuff he knew – and didn’t know. He didn’t understand how taxes worked but he knew the latest TikTok trends. What kind of person had that knowledge base, huh. In isolation none of it was that weird but put it altogether and –

Wally thought of the odd days when they’d been on duty together. He thought of Shazam, spinning around in his chair and eating snacks. Messing around like – like a kid. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Why would you think anything of it.

“Oh, my god,” said Arthur, with mounting horror. “I gave him whiskey.”

“We all have regrets,” said Diana. “Wally talked to him about sex.”

“Aw man, I wish I hadn’t told you about that.” Wally slammed his head down on the table. “I wanna die, guys. Somebody kill me.”

Diana sighed and reached for her sword. “If you insist.”

“Whoa!” He shot back upright. “I’m good.”

“Where is he now?” said Arthur.

“We’re not sure,” said the Batman.

“What?”

“He took off,” said Superman.

“Literally.” Wally motioned. “Whoosh.”

“And you just – let him go?” said Arthur.

“I tried to talk to him,” said Superman. “If Diana hadn’t scared him off –”

“Okay, Supes, let’s just get one thing clear,” said Wally. “If anyone scared him off it was definitely you.”

“I didn’t –” Superman protested.

“Don’t get me wrong!” Wally held up his hands. “There was definitely a conversation to be had there. But not when he was bleeding and scared in the middle of a goddamn battleground, Supes. God.”

“He was bleeding?” said Arthur. “What happened? I thought he was invincible?”

“As Shazam he’s invincible,” said Superman. “As – himself – evidently he’s not.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” said Superman. “He – transformed in mid air. He must have lost control of his powers.”

“And then he just took off?”

“Well, he turned back into Shazam first,” said Wally.

“Has anyone tried to check in –” Arthur began.

“I’ve been trying for days,” said the Batman. “He’s not answering. I’m getting – worried.”

“If he doesn’t want to talk he doesn’t want to talk,” said Vic.

“He was injured,” said Superman. “We need to know if he’s alright.”

A cold chill settled in Wally’s stomach. He hadn’t even thought – “He wasn’t hurt that bad, though, right?” he sad. “He was up and walking around and talking. He can’t have been hurt that bad.”

“He hit his head,” said Superman. “You know how head injuries can be.”

“Oh god,” said Wally. God, he hadn’t thought – there’d blood on his face and in his hair. He’d been unsteady on his feet. His gaze had been unfocused. He’d probably concussed himself. He’d refused to go to the hospital. Oh god.

“I’ll keep trying to reach him,” said the Batman.

“Do we have a plan for, uh,” said Wally, struggling to get back on track. “Assuming he’s okay, do we have a plan for what to do if he ghosts us?”

“Ghosts us?” said Diana.

“If he just never answers,” said Cyborg.

“If he starts operating as Shazam again it shouldn’t be too hard to track him down,” said Superman. “He’s conspicuous.”

“And if he doesn’t?” said Arthur.

“Then – problem solved,” said Superman.

“That’s cold, man,” said Wally. Superman looked away.

“It’s not as simple as that,” said the Batman. “We need to talk to him.”

“Based on what you said he’s almost certainly gonna be Shazam again sooner or later,” said Cyborg.

Be Shazam. What did that mean.

The worst thing about it – well, not the worst thing, but the thing Wally kept coming back to – was that he’d liked Shazam. They’d bonded. He’d thought that they’d bonded. He’d started thinking of him as a friend.

When he’d looked into the kid’s eyes he’d felt no sense of recognition. Nothing. It had been like looking at a stranger. Who was he. Was Shazam even real.

“I don’t doubt it,” said the Batman. “We need to decide what we’re going to do about it.”

“Some of us are already decided,” said Diana.

“It’s not that simple,” said the Batman. “The thing is – the kid’s right.”

Whatever they’d been expecting him to say – whatever stance they’d been expecting the Batman to have on the situation – it sure as hell wasn’t this.

“What?” said Wally.

“What he said to you,” said the Batman. He was talking to Superman. “He’s right.”

“That’s not –”

“He’s strong,” said the Batman. “He’s functionally indestructible. He has powers that we don’t fully understand, that come from a source we know virtually nothing about. If he wants to be a hero, who’s going to stop him?”

“He’s not as strong as all that,” said Superman. “Me and Diana –”

“Could take him,” said the Batman. “Individually or between you. It doesn’t matter. It’s not about whether or not you could. It’s a matter of whether you would.”

“I –”

“He’s just a kid,” said the Batman. “If he went rogue. Do you think you could handle it?”

It was an uneasy question – one that hadn’t crossed Wally’s mind. Nor the Big Guy’s, going by the look on his face.

Wally said, “You don’t really think he’s go rogue?”

“I think he’s a fourteen year old boy with the powers of multiple gods,” said the Batman. “I think he’s liable to be impulsive and unpredictable. I think none of us knows what he’s capable of – probably not even him. We need him on side,” he concluded, turning again to Superman. “We need to make sure he stays on side.”

Superman said nothing.

“You want to keep him in the League,” said Diana.

“We took responsibility for him when we invited him to join,” said the Batman. “Whether or not we understood we knew doing at the time doesn’t matter. Shazam’s our responsibility. It’s not a matter of whether or not we want him to be a superhero. It’s a matter of whether we want him doing it with adults around him or without.”

For a long moment, as they processed what he was suggesting, none of them spoke.

“Oh, god,” said Wally, the realisation settling fully in his gut. “You’re right. I hate that you’re right. But you’re right.”

He could see in the others’ faces that at least some of them were coming to the same conclusion. Arthur was sitting back in his chair, his hand over his mouth. Cyborg’s face was set. Diana was shaking her head.

Superman said, “Did you. Know about this?”

“I,” said the Batman. “Suspected.”

“You suspected?” said Superman.

“Based on what?” said Diana.

For the first time since they’d sat down, the Batman’s composure slipped. He sat back in his seat, the eyes of his mask squinting, rubbing his covered forehead. “We don’t have time to get into this,” he said. “I’ll try and keep it brief. I did some research based on what he told us. I came to the conclusion that he was most likely to be a human who’d received his powers from an external source. Based on the way he behaved I thought it was probable he was a child.” He raised his head. “Did none of you think of it?”

“Bats,” said Wally, “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but only a crazy person would think of that.”

“Did you suspect when you voted for him to join the league?” said Diana.

“No,” said the Batman. “I didn’t realise until he’d already joined.” He laid his hand upon the table. “It wouldn’t have changed my decision if I’d known.”

“Of course,” said Diana, a sudden bitterness in her voice.

“Diana –” said Superman.

“Of course you’d want it this way,” said Diana. “Wally’s right. You are crazy.”

“Diana, can we stick to the matter at hand?” Superman pleaded.

Diana’s eyes were flashing with rage, trained on the Batman. But she said nothing.

“Do you know who he is?” said Arthur.

“No,” said the Batman. “And in respect to his privacy, I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

“Look,” said Vic. “I don’t think we’re going to reach a decision on this tonight. And I don’t know if we should reach a decision before we’ve even talked to Shazam.”

“Vic has a point,” said Arthur. “For all we know he wants out.”

Now that was a possibility none of them had considered. It checked out, though. The kid had wanted them to think he was an adult. Now that they knew the truth maybe he just wouldn’t want to be around them any more. What they would do in that eventuality Wally had no idea.

Superman said, “Try him again.”

“Now?” said Cyborg.

“Why not?” said Superman. “We’re all here. If there’s no objections?”

“I think this might be a conversation we should have with him in person,” said the Batman.

“Agreed,” said Diana.

“I see what you mean,” said Superman. He nodded to Cyborg. “Make the call. We’ll ask him to come here.”

A light flicked on upon the screen set into the table, blinking on and off in time with the steady blip-blip, blip-blip of the Watchtower’s system trying to connect.

The only sounds in the meeting room, for those long few seconds, were the blipping of the comm and Wally’s fingers anxiously tip-tapping against the table. Superman shot him and irritated look, and he quit it. He rubbed at his chin instead.

It wasn’t taking any longer than it usually took for Shazam to answer, but still Wally was more and more certain it was going to ring out. The kid was never going to answer them. They were gonna have to –

The line went blip- one last time and with a soft click the light on the screen blinked on.

A wave of tension went around the table. Wally raised his head from his hand, exchanging a look with Vic. Arthur sat up straighter. None of them, Wally thought, had really expected to get an answer, at least not right now.

There was a fumbling sound on the other end as the common was adjusted. A voice said, “Hey.”

“Shit,” said Arthur softly. Even knowing rationally that they were telling the truth, it must have been weird for him to hear the kid’s voice.

Hell, Wally had seen the kid himself and it was messing with his head, seeing Shazam’s gold light on the screen and hearing a stranger’s voice – a teenager’s voice – coming out of the speaker.

“Shazam?” said Superman.

“Hi,” said the kid. Then catching his drift, “yeah. It’s me.”

“We need to talk,” said Superman.

“I know.”

“Before I go on,” said Superman. “I think you should know the whole team’s here.”

“Oh – okay,” said the kid. He didn’t sound exactly thrilled at the idea.

“Are you able to come to the Watchtower?”

A breath, at the other end of the line. “No,” said the kid. “Sorry.”

“Look, I – we think it would be better if we could talk about this in person,” said Superman.

“Uh-huh,” said the kid.

It was a pretty rude brush off. If the kid hadn’t sounded so miserable maybe the big guy would’ve said something about it. As it was he said, his tone softer, “son, we need to talk about this.”

“I know,” said the kid. “I’m not trying to – I know we need to have this conversation. I just can’t come see you guys. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t mean I don’t want to, Wally realised. He meant can’t as in can’t. Supes picked up on it too. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said the kid.

“Are you okay?” said Superman. “Do you –”

“No, it’s not,” the kid interrupted. “Everything’s fine, I just –” The comm caught a sigh of frustration. “I can’t come see you guys in person cause I’m grounded.”

Superman’s eyes were trained on the speaker. He said, “You’re what?”

“I am grounded.”

And at that the tension around the table broke. Maybe it was the abrupt reminder that they were talking to a teenager. Maybe it was the comedy inherent in the idea of someone grounding Shazam. Whatever it was, for a moment it was like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Cyborg hid his mouth behind his hand. Arthur just barely suppressed a chuckle. Even Diana was smiling.

“You’re grounded,” Superman echoed.

“My foster parents found out what I’ve been doing and now I’m grounded for a month,” said the kid. “So I can’t come to the Watchtower. I’m not too happy about it either. Sorry.”

“You’re a foster kid?” Wally blurted out. He couldn’t hold back his curiosity. It had been eating at him for days, wondering what the kid had meant by I don’t have parents.

“Oh, hey Flash!” said the kid, and something eased in Wally’s chest at his unabashed delight at hearing his voice. “How are you?”

“I’m – I’m good, kid,” said Wally, painfully aware that all eyes were on him in fond bemusement. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Can I – get clear on something,” said Superman. “You wouldn’t listen to me when I told you this needed to stop? But you’ll listen to your foster carers when they tell you the same thing?”

“Well yeah, obviously,” said the kid. “Cause like, one, you can’t physically stop me from leaving my house. Two, you can’t take away my phone –”

“They took your phone?” said Arthur. “You’re grounded grounded, huh kid?”

“Yeah,” said the kid, morose.

“Bummer,” said Wally. He couldn’t say he blamed them.

“Also you’re probably not gonna tell social services about this if I don’t do what you say,” said the kid.

Superman didn’t answer. None of them answered. Wally was pretty confident that until that moment involving social services hadn’t crossed any of their minds.

“Oh my god,” said the kid, his voice rising in pitch as he guessed what they were thinking. “Superman. Sir. Please, please don’t tell social services about this. I have no idea what they’d do.”

From the look on the big guy’s face he was considering it.

“We can’t,” said the Batman to him softly.

He was right, as usual. This was – probably way out of social services’ ballpark. And what would they even say. ‘Hey, we let this child fight bad guys with us and almost got him killed. Do something.’ Do what.

“We’re not going to call social services,” said the Batman, raising his voice to be heard over the comm. There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yeah, I’ve been to the hospital,” said the kid.

“How bad was it?” said the Batman, with the kind of grim practicality that came from having been injured on the job way too much.

“Four cracked ribs and a concussion.” The kid sounded kind of proud of himself. Wally winced. “It’s kind of a bitch but I’ll be okay. It was my own fault, anyway.”

“About that,” said Cyborg.

“Hi Vic,” said the kid.

“Hi – what happened out there?”

“Oh,” said the kid. “I messed up.”

“Could you elaborate?” said Superman.

“I messed up and it was really stupid?”

“What did you do?”

“Okay,” said the kid. He breathed out. “So I’m there fighting the dragon –”

“As you do,” put in Wally.

“Yeah – I was fighting the dragon and it was real tough and I was having a hard time killing it,” said the kid. “So I – okay, you guys saw me do the Shazam thing, right? The transformation?”

“Yeah,” said Superman.

“So the lightning doesn’t hurt me, but it hits other stuff like – well, just like getting hit by regular lightning,” said the kid. “It’s useful sometimes. You get me?”

“I don’t get you,” said Wally.

But going by the look on Superman’s face – which was shifting from pensive to thunderous – he got it. “Are you telling me you transformed back into yourself in mid air on purpose?”

“Yes,” said the kid. He didn’t elaborate.

“Why would you do that?” said Superman.

“Cause it’s basically a one shot K.O.”

“That’s – unbelievably dangerous,” said Superman. “You could have been killed.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” said the kid. “It’s a good move, okay? I just messed up the timing. It won’t happen again.”

“Can I just check I’m understanding this right?” said Cyborg. “The move is to transform into yourself and then back into Shazam before you hit the ground?”

“Yeah, you get me,” said the kid, who was being insanely casual about the whole concept. “Like I said, I just screwed up the timing.”

“Are you saying you’ve done this before?” said Diana.

The line hummed for a moment.

“I’d prefer not to answer that question cause I feel like if I do you’re going to get mad at me.”

“Son,” said Superman before Diana could reply. “I’m going to need you to promise us you won’t ever do that again.”

“Sure, I promise I’ll time it better in future,” said the kid.

“I think you know perfectly well that’s not what I meant,” said Superman.

“It’s not like I do it a lot.”

“Son, can you just –”

“I’m not your son,” the kid interrupted.

“Look –” Superman sighed, his brows pinching together. “Do you have a name?”

“Sure I do,” said the kid. He didn’t go on.

The Batman leaned forward. “This conversation would be a lot easier if we knew what to call you.”

“Okay,” said the kid. “You first, sir.”

Wally looked at him expectantly. The Bat didn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s not really the same,” he said.

“Sure,” said the kid. “You gonna explain how?”

“He doesn’t have to give us his name if he doesn’t want to,” said Diana. “Can we stay on track, please?”

“Young man –” said Superman.

“Please don’t young man me either,” said the kid.

He had a point. Young man was pretty obnoxious.

“I think I speak for all of us here when I say we would have preferred you were honest with us about your age,” Superman said.

“I thought we were entitled to keep our identities secret if we wanted,” said the kid.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“This is different,” said Superman.

“Uh-huh,” said the kid, not buying it.

“If there’s going to be any possibility of us continuing to work together,” said Superman, not meeting Diana’s gaze, “in any capacity – we’re going to need you to be honest with us about your situation going forward. Do you understand?”

“What parts of my situation?” said the kid.

“Maybe we could start with how this happened to you.”

“Oh,” said the kid. “Sure, we can get into that.”

He didn’t go on.

“Son?” said the Batman.

“Hold on,” said the kid. “I’m gonna tell you. I’m just trying to think where to start.” He breathed out. “I told you about the wizard, right?”

“Yes, you mentioned the wizard,” said Superman.

“So the wizard said to me –”

“Can you go back a little?” said Diana. “Who was this wizard? How did you meet him?”

“I’m not actually sure who he was,” said the kid. “He said he was the last of the Council of Wizards, if that means anything to you.” It didn’t. “I met him at the Rock of Eternity.”

“How did you come to be at the Rock of Eternity?” said Diana.

“Oh – subway.”

Diana stared at the screen. “You went to the Rock of Eternity by subway?”

“Okay, I wanna stress that all of this is just as weird for me as it is for you,” said the kid. “Probably weirder, seeing as I lived it.”

“Can you please tell us about the wizard?” said Superman.

“So I’m on the subway,” said the kid.

“Get to the point, son.”

“Right. He summoned me to the Rock of Eternity, I guess?”

“The wizard summoned you?” said Superman.

He put a stress on wizard – just a hint of one, but enough for it to read dubious, to Wally’s ears. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on it.

The kid went quiet for a moment. “The wizard was real.”

“I never said he wasn’t –”

“Okay, but I don’t like your tone, sir,” said the kid. “You asked me to be honest with you and now I’m being honest with you and you’re acting like I’m making stuff up and I am not making any of this up, sir. This all really happened to me.”

“Alright,” said Superman. “Alright. I believe you about the wizard. I’m sorry if it sounded like I didn’t. Could you go on, please?”

“He told me he needed to pass on his powers to someone so they could be his champion,” said the kid. “He told me he had to give them to someone who was pure of heart so he could be sure they wouldn’t get abused or whatever.”

“I see,” said Superman.

“And then he told me he couldn’t find anyone who was pure of heart but he was out of options so he was just gonna give them to me,” said the kid.

“Wait, he actually said that?” said Vic.

“Well, I’m paraphrasing,” said the kid. “But pretty much, yeah.”

“That sounds like a lot to put on a fourteen year old,” said Vic.

“That’s what I thought,” said the kid. “Anyway, then he asked me to put my hand on his staff –”

“His staff?” said Superman.

“Yeah, he had a magic staff – he asked me to put my hand on the staff and say his name.”

“What was his name?”

“Oh – Shazam,” said the kid.

“The wizard was also called Shazam?” said Arthur.

“I imagine he named himself after the wizard,” said Diana to him quietly – not really quietly enough.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said the kid.

“So you did this – ritual, with him,” said the Batman. “What happened?”

“I turned into Shazam.”

“And then what?”

“Then I went home.”

It was kind of an anti-climax. None of them spoke. Probably none of them were sure what to say.

“Huh,” said Wally. He wasn’t really sure what he’d expected. The weirdest thing was that it wasn’t so very far removed from what they’d put together themselves. They’d just been – missing a crucial step in the middle.

“Can I check that I’m understanding this correctly,” said Superman. “You activate your powers by saying Shazam?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said the kid.

“And you change back –”

“The same way.”

“Where is the wizard now?” said Diana. “Is he still at the Rock of Eternity?”

“Oh – no, he died,” said the kid. “I’m sorry. He died right after he gave me his powers.”

“Died how?” said the Batman.

“Just up and died.”

“Do you mean to say that when he gave you his powers he transferred his life essence to you?” said Diana.

“Well when you put it like that it sounds really gross,” said the kid.

“When did this all happen?” said Superman. “Last year some time?”

“Yeah, just before Christmas,” the kid said.

“Can I ask you something?” Wally put in.

“Sure,” said the kid.

“When he offered to – make you his champion,” Wally said. “Did you consider just saying no?”

Wasn’t that a slogan for the PSAs. Say no to mysterious wizards offering you godlike powers.

“Tried it,” said the kid. “He wasn’t really taking no for an answer.”

“Oh jeez,” said Wally. He caught Vic’s eye; his face was grim.

They were the only two at the table who hadn’t been born the way they were now. And sure, what had happened to Wally wasn’t nearly as brutal as what Vic had been through, and sure, long term he was pretty thrilled with the results, but there was no way around the fact that having your body altered – rewritten – changed into something no longer fully human, wasn’t exactly fun. What had happened to him was an accident. If someone had done it to him, without even asking if it was what he wanted – he’d had been fucking pissed.

What kind of person did that. To a kid.

“Is there any way to reverse it?” said Superman.

“Not that I know of,” said the kid, sounding understandably tetchy at the suggestion. “Why?”

“Just – asking.”

“Look,” said the kid. “Can we just –” He broke off.

“Do you guys want me out of the League?”

Now that was the burning question, wasn’t it. None of them answered. Looking around the table Wally saw uneasy faces. It wasn’t just that they hadn’t reached an agreement, he thought. This setting – this remote group interrogation – did not feel like the right time or place to tell the kid they wanted him out, even if they did.

“Cause I’ll understand,” said the kid. “I’d just like to know sooner rather than later.”

Superman glanced at the Batman, and seemed to take his stony face as a go ahead. “We’re still talking it over.”

“Okay,” said the kid.

“In the mean time I think we’d all appreciate if you could stop operating,” said Superman.

“You mean quit being Shazam?” said the kid. “Yeah, that’s – not happening.”

“That wasn’t a request,” said Superman, though he had phrased it like one.

“What are you gonna do about it?” said the kid.

“Son –”

The Batman raised a hand, gesturing for Supes to be quiet. “Let me take this,” he said softly.

Superman relented. He took his hands from where he’d pressed them flat to the table and folded his arms. Wally wasn’t gonna say he was sulking, but he kind of looked like he was sulking.

“Shazam,” said the Batman. “Until we decide otherwise you’re still a member of the League and we’ll expect you to listen to our advice. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” said the kid.

“You’re injured,” said the Batman. “Until your ribs heal you can consider yourself benched. Understood?”

“But I –”

“You’re not being singled out,” said the Batman. “I’d expect any other member of the League to do the same. Do you understand me?”

The line was sullenly quiet. “Yes, sir.”

“Once you’re back on your feet we can talk about your future with us,” said the Batman.

“Sure,” said the kid.

He sounded so miserable. Wally wished he could say something comforting. Even if he knew what to say, he didn’t think now was the time.

And anyway, it wasn’t like he wasn’t mad. More so than anything else he was mad at himself for not figuring it out – mad at the Wizard Shazam for putting them all in this position in the first place – but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a little mad at the kid for lying to them.

“If anything comes up in the Philadelphia area over the next few weeks one of us will handle it,” said the Batman. “Are we in agreement?”

He was addressing the whole League, not just the kid. There was a general murmur of agreement. It wasn’t so much a solution as a way of kicking the can down the road, Wally reflected, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a little relieved that things were settled.

“Shazam?” said the Batman.

“Sure,” said the kid. “Whatever. I’m in agreement. Just don’t –”

Whatever he was going to ask them not to do, he was interrupted. There was a rustling noise on the other end of the line – a fumbling sound, and when he spoke again his voice was muffled and distant as he spoke to someone in the room with him. Wally couldn’t make out the individual words. He must have put his hand over the receiver.

Then closer and louder he said, “Oh shit –”

There was an extended series of fumbling noises – fabric rustling – an audible twang of mattress springs – muffled voices, too far away from the comm to get picked up properly.

“Son?” said Superman. “Shazam? Is everything okay?”

He heard the kid’s voice say, muddily, “No, don’t –”

– and then a woman’s voice said, “Hello? Who is this?”

He was lying on Freddy’s bunk, his head hanging over the edge of the mattress, when Rosa knocked on the bedroom door.

“Billy?” she said. “I’ve been calling for you – we’re eating dinner.”

Goddamn it. He wrapped his fingers tight around the receiver and said, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

The floor outside creaked as she shifted her weight. “Who are you talking to in there?”

“Um.” He glanced around the empty room. “Freddy?”

“Freddy’s downstairs.”

“Shit.” He fumbled with the comm.

“I’m coming in,” she said, the door handle already turning.

He flipped over to shove the comm under Freddy’s pillow, but he rolled way too fast. His bruised up side smacked against the firm edge of the mattress and he grunted in pain, almost falling off the bed.

“What are you holding?” Rosa stepped into the room.

“It’s nothing –”

“What is that?”

He scrambled semi-upright, trying to hide it in his sleeve. “I –”

“Give it to me.”

He tried to turn it off. She was too quick for him, snatching it clean out of his hand the moment he opened his fingers. “Rosa, don’t –”

“What is this thing?” She turned it over in her hand. The screen was blinking blue, still active.

He swallowed. “It’s not –”

“Shazam?” said Superman’s tinny voice from the speaker. He could just barely make out the words. “Is everything okay?”

Slowly, Rosa raised the comm to her mouth.

“No – don’t –”

“Hello?” she said. “Who is this? Who am I talking to?”

She stepped restlessly away from the bed as a voice answered. “Superman?” she said, cutting him off almost at once. “You’re Superman, huh? You listen to me – no.” Billy could hear him trying to speak, but she talked clean over him. “No, don’t you ma’am at me – I don’t give a damn about your security!” she went on, raising her voice. “Why are you contacting my foster son?”

“Rosa,” he said. “We were just –”

“No – no, don’t you try and get out of this,” she said. “I want you to explain yourself. I want to hear your thought process.” He could just hear Superman’s voice answering her, and as he spoke her face grew still more thunderous. “How dare you,” she said. “He is fourteen years old, how dare you involve him in your –”

“They didn’t –” he pleaded.

Rosa began to furiously pace the bedroom. “What do you mean, you didn’t know?” she said. “How could you not know? Don’t you people do background checks? Oh, don’t – don’t you give me any of that secret identity horseshit, he is a child –”

“I’m not a little kid!” he protested.

“I’m sorry – sorry, who is this?” she said. “Who am I talking to now? Oh – oh, you’re the Batman, are you?” He could hear the Batman’s gruff voice coming through the speaker, but again she talked over him. “Don’t you talk to me about how capable he is. What is wrong with you people?”

The Batman spoke again – this time for a full couple of sentences. “No – no,” Rosa butted in still pacing. “You listen to me, sir. You stay away from him,” she said, with a decisive venom in her voice. “You stay away from my family. If you try contacting my son again I’m calling the police. Do you understand? Goodbye.”

“How do I turn this thing off?” said the woman muddily from the speaker.

“There’s – a button –” Wally could just make out the kid’s voice. “No, on the side – no, no, not that one, the one with – it’s really not that complicated –”

“Do not start –”

Click. The line went dead. The golden light on the screen blinked out.

For a long moment none of them spoke.

“You know,” said Superman, leaning heavily on the conference table. “You guys could have helped us out there.”

“What, and have her yell at us too?” said Wally.

“I liked the lady,” said Arthur. He was slouched back in his chair, his arms folded, a grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t,” said Superman.

“She’s got her head screwed on right.”

Superman shot him a bleak look.

“What now?” said Vic.

“Hopefully that’s the end of it,” said Diana.

The hell it was, Wally thought. He might not know Shazam well – might not have known anything, really, about the person behind the mask – but he was certain he wasn’t about to be contained if he didn’t want to it.

The Batman said, “We’ll just have to wait and see if he reaches out to us.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Billy said.

“Yes, I did.” Rosa turned the communicator over in her hand. “Is it switched off? Or is it just hung up?”

His shoulders slumped. “You have to – there’s another button on the underside, it’s kind of – inset –”

She flipped it over. “Where?”

“Aw, for – just let me do it.” He stuck out his hand.

She met his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration she handed it over. He pressed the button and held it till a soft blip signalled that it was powered down.

“Give,” she said, holding out her hand for it. He gave it back. She turned it over, examining it more closely. “Did you put stickers on this?”

“Darla,” he explained.

“You let Darla have it?”

“I let her put stickers on it,” he said. “While it was turned off.”

“I – never mind,” she said. “It can go in the safe with your phone.”

“I’m not going to steal it back,” he said.

“You really expect me to trust you on that?” she said, shoving his communicator into her pocket.

“Harsh,” he said. “That was one time.”

She shot him a look.

“They called me, you know,” he said. “What was I supposed to do, not answer?”

“Yes!” she said. “We do not want you talking to these people, Billy! What part of that don’t you understand?”

“They’re not those people,” he protested. “They’re the Justice League.”

“We’re not talking about this any more,” she said. “Come down to dinner.”

“I need to talk to them about this.” He levered himself up off the bunk. “I can handle it –” He stood up too fast. His breath caught in his chest, wheezing in pain.

“You really have to ask why we don’t want you talking to them?” she said as he caught his breath. “Come downstairs, Billy.”

He pushed his mashed potatoes listlessly around his plate. The only sound in the dining room was the scraping and clinking of cutlery. No-one was feeling very talkative, Billy guessed.

Victor cleared his throat. “So, uh, how was everyone’s day?” he said. “Darla? How was school?”

“Regular,” said Darla.

Victor glanced at Billy. “You gonna eat that?”

Locking eyes with him, Billy very deliberately shovelled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“So, uh,” said Freddy to Rosa. “Were you yelling at Superman just now?”

“We’re not talking about this,” she said, her eyes on her food.

“Yeah, but – were you?”

“She was actually yelling at the whole League,” said Billy. Rosa shot him a warning look. He ignored her. “You were on speaker.”

“Wow,” said Freddy. “Wait, she was yelling at the Batman?”

Billy nodded.

“Oof,” said Eugene. “Don’t wanna get on that guy’s bad side.”

“We’re not talking about this over dinner, guys!” said Victor. “Pedro, anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Not really,” said Pedro.

“Is Batman going to be mad at Rosa now?” said Darla.

“Probably,” said Eugene.

“Is he gonna to come our house?”

“If he comes anywhere near our house we’ll call the police,” said Rosa.

“He’s not going to come to the house,” said Billy.

“You think the Batman can’t handle the police?” said Eugene. “Hey Freddy, how many cops could the Batman take in a fight?”

“Well –” said Freddy.

“Do not start,” said Rosa. “This isn’t funny. It’s not a joke. He’s a dangerous vigilante and I don’t want him near any of you. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Eugene.

“Sure,” said Freddy.

Billy mashed his potatoes flat with his fork. “He’s not like that,” he muttered.

“What was that?” said Victor.

He raised his head. “I said, he’s not like that. You don’t even know him. He’s actually pretty nice."

All eyes were on him.

“He’s kind of quiet,” he finished.

“Look, Billy,” said Victor. “I’m sure he seems nice, but –”

“You don’t even know him!” Billy protested, getting heated. His ribs twinged, and he winced. “You don’t know any of them. They’re good people.”

“Billy, if you want to talk this through again we can do it after dinner, okay?” said Victor.

“Fine.” He threw down his fork.

“Billy – don’t –”

“I’m not hungry.” He made to leave the table.

Rosa put a hand on his arm. “Billy, will you please just stay and eat dinner with us?” she said gently.

A few months ago that wouldn’t have worked on him. But lately when she used that tone with him – when she looked at him like that – it was hard not to do as he was told. He didn’t want to stick around. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He really didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had.

He slumped back into his chair. “Fine.”

The table lapsed back into silence.

“But what if Batman comes to our house and beats up all the police?” said Darla.

“Darla –”

“He’s not going to come to the house,” said Billy. “He doesn’t do stuff like that.”

“We’re not talking about this any more,” said Victor. “Okay? Freddy, how was your day?”

Freddy chewed thoughtfully. He said, “I think the Batman could beat up at least fifty cops.”

“Freddy, so help me, I will send you to your room,” said Victor. “We are done with this, okay? We are done with all of this. Let’s just – have a normal night.”

So, just because Shazam was – gone, didn’t mean the League was done dealing with magic bullshit.

It had been three months since Chicago. The attacks hadn’t stopped. They had no new leads and they were running out of ideas. The only thing that had changed that were down a heavy hitter – down a heavy hitter who was by far the best of them at dealing with this particular nonsense. Otherwise, business as usual.

So there Wally was. Falling to his death.

“Oh my god,” he babbled, wind buffeting him, the New York city skyline flashing by. Sunlight flared off two rows of skyscraper windows. The road was getting way too close for his comfort and peace of mind –

“Oh god, oh god, oh goddd –” He shut his watering eyes and braced himself for the splat.

Strong arms gripped him from behind, knocking all the breath out of him. His descent, bit by bit, began to slow – and slow – and it stopped.

Wally opened his eyes. He was hovering level with maybe the fifth floor, his feet dangling, clutched like a doll to Vic’s metal chest.

“Nice catch,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual about it.

“Thanks,” said Vic. “Maybe next time be a little more specific over the comm.”

“Excuse me?” said Wally.

“You know – hey guys, I’m falling to my death over central Manhattan, come get me? Something like that.”

“I wasn’t planning on there being a next time,” said Wally. “You asshole.”

“Juuust offering some constructive criticism,” Vic sing-songed.

“Are you gonna put me down?” said Wally. “Cause I’d really like to get back on the ground before I hurl.”

Vic started to lower them. “No head for heights, huh?”

“I’m fine with heights,” said Wally. “Just not a fan of falling from them.”

“What grabbed you?”

Their feet finally – finally – touched asphalt. Wally breathed out. “Didn’t get a great look,” he said as Vic released him. “Some kind of giant bird? I don’t know.”

Vic touched his comm. “Batman, do you copy?”

The line crackled.

“Batman?” said Vic. “Copy?”

“Hey man, you still alive?” Wally said into his comm.

The line crackled again – and fuzzily, a voice said, “I’m –” Static. “– need to –” Crackle-crackle. “-es.”

The call disconnected.

Wally smacked his lips. “Oof.”

They were way outnumbered as it was. Superman and Diana were off dealing with another crisis. Arthur was off doing his thing in the ocean. He and Vic and the Batman – they made a good team but the dirty truth was fighting giant monsters wasn’t Wally’s ballpark and nor was it the Batman’s. They only had one heavy hitter between them and he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” said Vic, somehow managing to make it sound like something other than a total crisis. He was real good at that. “How many are left?”

“Uh, the bird that grabbed me,” said Wally. “I think I saw a giant scorpion roaming around down by the river. And –”

Something was coming at them. He dodged before he’d even fully registered the threat, slipping into high speed. From the sidewalk he watched a taxi cab sail by, turning and roaring in the air, just barely clipping Vic before it hit the ground with a noise like thunder.

“And that?” said Vic.

Striding towards them, out of the dust and the rubble, was a towering figure. Easily ten, twelve feet tall. Built like a tank. It had arms and legs like a human, but as it loomed over them Wally saw its snout – its lashing tail – the curving horns of a bull.

“Ohh, yeah,” he said. “That’s a whole minotaur.”

“Bring it,” said Vic, activating his plasma cannon.

He aimed – and fired – and a blast of bright blue energy punched away half the minotaur’s torso, the broken edges scorched and smoking. It staggered, reeling back – huffed out a dusty breath – but it didn’t fall.

Slowly, the street silent but for Wally’s own heart racing in his eyes, it found its footing. And slowly, with a noise like dust shifting, its broken torso began to kit itself back together.

“Oh shit,” Wally said. “That’s new.”

Vic said nothing. His jaw set in determination, he aimed for the head.

Blam – it was blasted into dust, its headless body staggering – but again it didn’t fall down. It swayed on the spot for a long moment, and they could only watch, hearts in their mouths, waiting. With a grinding noise its head grew back, at first shapeless and distorted, then forming eyes – ears – horns.

It stepped forward.

“Oh, no,” said Vic, squaring up again. He fired – blasted off an arm, a leg – but it only slowed the minotaur down. Its limbs regrew, grinding, shedding clay dirt on the road, and it kept coming. “No, no, no –”

“Vic, we gotta run,” said Wally.

“No,” Vic fired again. “No –” Again. “No.”

Wally was at his back in a heartbeat. “Vic, we have to get out of here.” He grabbed his free arm and tugged. “Vic –”

Vic fired again, blowing off its head. It didn’t even stop walking. What the hell did it care about having a head. It was just dirt.

“Vic, come on –” Wally wrenched on his arm. “Why are you so – heavy –”

“Please no –” he heard Vic say as he fired again.

He knew they had to run. This wasn’t a fight they could win – not now, with no plan and no concept of how the thing could even be taken down. There were times when the only thing to do was to run – to regroup – to try again.

He knew why Vic wouldn’t run. The evacuation was still in progress. A few city blocks south there would be people – regular people, who the minotaur would brutalise. If they ran there’d be nothing standing in its way. They’d try their best to help but they couldn’t get everyone to safety all at once. People would be hurt. People would die.

The minotaur was almost on them. He didn’t know what it could do to Vic – Vic was tough, but he wasn’t indestructible. It would sure as hell pulverise Wally if he didn’t run. But he wasn’t running. Not without Vic.

“Vic, please,” he begged.

The minotaur raised its arm to strike. Wally couldn’t breathe.

Then there was a crack like an explosion – a sound entirely unlike the plasma canon – and a burst of lighting hit the minotaur, taking its raised arm clean off. Another crack and it jerked, spasming and roaring at the sky.

Lightning fizzed across its body, bright white, burning the clay black. Smoke rose from it, from the cracks in its burning surface, from its ears, from its mouth and nostrils – and with a final crack lightning struck it again and it exploded into black and grey fragments.

The dust cloud rose up around them. Vic stood just ahead of him, plasma canon still trained on where it had been standing, not moving a muscle. Wally wiped dust off his mask, trying to catch his breath.

A whoosh of displaced air. The solid thud of something real heavy hitting the ground. And there, glowing amidst the dissipating dust cloud – a lightning bolt.

Chapter Text

Vic lowered his arm. Shazam stepped forward out of the dust, bright red and ridiculous and the most welcome sight Wally had seen all morning. “Hey guys,” he said. “You look like you could use a hand.”

So he knew, rationally, who – what – Shazam actually was. So they still needed to have an actual conversation about the whole thing. So probably, if he was gonna be honest, Shazam shouldn’t have been there at all.

None of that had stopped his rush of relief on seeing that glowing lightning bolt.

“Shazam!” Closing the distance between them he threw his arms around Shazam’s broad shoulders. “Good to see you, buddy.”

“You too, Flash.” He seemed startled at being hugged. He was rigid in Wally’s arms. Wally stepped back, kind of embarrassed.

Vic was coming to join them, stepping carefully around the remains of the minotaur. “Is it dead?”

Shazam looked at the broken chunks of clay on the ground. “Oh, yeah.”

Vic shifted his arm back to normal. “Thanks for your help.”

“Any time,” said Shazam. “Who else is out?”

“Just us and the Batman,” said Wally.

“Who is – AWOL,” said Vic. “We got at least two more, assuming this guy’s really dead.”

“Oh, he’s super dead.” Shazam nodded at what was left of the minotaur, still smoking. “Magic’s all burned out. Trust me.”

“If you say so,” said Wally. They’d had no contact with Shazam since Chicago. He’d elected to believe that no news was good news. Shazam, he reflected as he looked him up and down, seemed fine, so he’d probably been right – “Shazam,” he said. “My guy. Are you wearing a fanny pack?”

Shazam glanced down at himself. “Tactical upgrade.”

Wally set a hand on his shoulder. He said, “It’s a fanny pack.”

Motioning at it Shazam said, “I got snacks in here.”

Something was coming down on them. On reflex Wally darted out of the way and a split second later Shazam went back and up, springing into the air like a startled cat – just as a car smashed into the ground, barely missing Vic.

“Whoa!” Vic yelped.

The giant bird was wheeling overhead, shedding dust like ash, crying out like an angry vulture. Shazam slung a burst of lighting at it but only managed to clip its wing. With a screech it darted up and away.

“That the thing that grabbed you?” said Vic.

“I think so.” Wally breathed out. It was gone, for now. They had a moment to catch their breaths.

A thought crossed his mind. He turned to Shazam. “Hey, kid!”

“Yeah?” said Shazam, hovering twenty feet in the air.

“It’s like one thirty on a Wednesday,” Wally said. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

“So I’m cutting class,” said Shazam with a shrug. “You got a problem with that?”

There was a shriek overhead and yet another car came tumbling out of the air towards him – but before they could even call out a warning Shazam spun lightning-fast in the air and caught it by the bumper.

“Phew!” he said.

He was just floating up there, holding onto a whole-ass car like it was nothing. Wally glanced at Vic. Vic said, “You good?”

“Yeah,” said Shazam. He didn’t even sound strained. Super strength was wack. “I got it,” he added, lowering the car to the ground.

The bird was still overhead, wheeling about, looking for more ammo. Shazam looked up at it; Wally couldn’t make out the expression on his face. The sun was behind him. Rising upwards, he said, “I got this.”

“You sure –” Wally began.

Vic laid a hand on his arm. “He’s got it handled,” he said. “C’mon. Let’s go find your scorpion.”

Shazam was waiting for them when they got back to the Watchtower, his feet up on the meeting room table and the most shit eating grin on his face.

“You look so pleased with yourself,” said Wally, his hands on his hips.

“You get the last one?” said Shazam. “Then I’d say that went pretty well.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Wally. “Look, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask. Do your foster parents know where you are right now?”

“Oh – no,” said Shazam. “No, I’m gonna be super grounded when I get home.” He spread his hands. “Worth it.”

“You didn’t have to get in trouble on our account,” Vic said. “We had it covered –”

Shazam took his feet off the table in a swift and abrupt movement. “Okay, first off, you guys were getting your butts kicked till I showed up,” he said. “And also that’s not why I came out.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Wally.

But before Shazam could elaborate a white light flashed on the screen, and blinked on. “Batman to Watchtower.”

“Bats!” Wally dove halfway across the table in his haste to get at the receiver. “Hey! You’re alive? How are ya?”

“Of course I’m alive,” said the Batman.

“We were getting worried,” said Vic, joining Wally by the table.

“I have business to attend to in Gotham,” said the Batman. “Do you have anything to report?”

Wally and Vic exchanged a look.

“Uh,” said Wally. “We have Shazam up here.”

“Hi Batman,” said Shazam.

“Shazam,” said Batman crisply.

“I got something I need to tell you, sir,” said Shazam.

“I’m on my way.” Batman’s light blinked out.

The meeting room was quiet.

“Sooo how are you guys?” said Shazam.

“Pretty good,” said Vic.

“Can’t complain,” said Wally. “How about you?”

“So-so,” said Shazam.

They lapsed back into silence.

“So,” said Vic, “how’d you wind up in foster care?”

Shazam’s smile didn’t waver. “Wow, that’s a really personal question,” he said. “That’s really rude.” He motioned at Vic’s torso. “How would you like it if I asked you how you ended up all – like that.”

“Car accident,” said Vic.

“Okay, but you telling me that doesn’t mean I gotta tell you my whole life story,” said Shazam. “You get that, right? You see how that works?”

“No, I get it,” said Vic.

“Cause it really isn’t any of your business,” said Shazam.

“I get it,” said Vic again. “Forget I asked. I was just – I’m sorry.”

Wally got why he’d asked. Sure, it was kind of an invasive question, but it wasn’t like they were strangers. They’d known Shazam for months. He was curious too.

Or, not curious so much as concerned. There were a lot of different reasons a teenager might be in foster care and none of them were exactly nice. So yeah, he was concerned. He wanted to know if he should be concerned.

“Look – kid,” said Vic. “I just wanted to say. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You mean this?” said Shazam, motioning at his own body, his smile still not wavering. “Don’t be. I’m not.”

Vic didn’t answer. Most likely he wasn’t sure what to say to that. No-one was talking. Wally smacked his lips, and decided now was as good a time as any.

“Can I just,” he said to Shazam. “Can I get something off my chest real quick?”

“Sure,” said Shazam. “I’m all ears.”

“Okay, don’t get me wrong,” said Wally. “I’m real grateful you came out today, and yeah, you probably just saved both our asses. And also, I get why you didn’t tell us who you were, you know? I was fourteen once, and –”

“Cut to the chase, Wally,” Vic interrupted.

“Okay,” said Wally. “Okay! I just wanna say, I’m still kind of mad at you for lying to us.”

“Okay,” said Shazam, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Okay, but to be fair, I never technically lied to you guys.”

Wally leaned on the table, trying to be casual about it. He said, “do you know what a lie of omission is?”

“Yeah, I know what a lie of omission is,” said Shazam. “I’m not that dumb. I just don’t think that applies here considering we all have secret identities.”

“I don’t,” said Vic.

“Vic doesn’t,” said Wally.

“Also one time I asked you how old you were and you told me you were thirty-five,” said Vic.

“Did I?” Shazam chuckled. “Okay I don’t remember that but it does sound like something I’d say. I’m real sorry, man.”

“I’m not even mad about that one, I’m just confused,” said Vic. “I figured you were lying, I just thought you were, you know. Lowballing.”

“What?” said Shazam.

Vic changed the subject. “So you’re, what, in high school?”

“Freshman,” said Shazam.

“How’d you been handling school and being in the League?” said Vic. “Sounds like a lot.”

“I’m gonna level with you,” said Shazam. “There’s a lot of Red Bull involved.”

“Yikes,” said Vic.

“It’s not that hard,” said Wally. “Some of us have day jobs, y’know.”

“Didn’t you get laid off?” said Vic.

“I –”

“You got laid off like two months ago, right?”

“Yeah, okay, but,” said Wally. “That wasn’t cause of being the Flash. They had – budget cuts. Shut the fuck up. We’re getting off track. The point is, you should have told us,” he said to Shazam.

“Why?” said Shazam.

“Okay, Shazam, I really hate to say this,” said Vic before Wally could answer. “But you’re not a little kid. You’re old enough to understand that this puts us all in a really difficult position and I think you know why we’re mad.”

“So what you’re saying is I’m old enough to know better?”

“Essentially,” said Vic. “Yeah.”

“What we’re saying is, you didn’t tell us because you knew we wouldn’t like it,” said Wally.

“Okay.” Shazam put up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay! I’m not gonna lie to you guys. That’s part of why I didn’t tell you, but it’s not like it’s the only reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Vic dubiously. “What were the other reasons?”

“A whole bunch of different stuff,” said Shazam.

“Uh-huh,” said Vic.

“The whole superhero thing’s put my family in danger once already,” said Shazam. “So yeah, I wanted to keep things under wraps. Sue me.”

Wally glanced at Vic. Vic met his eyes. For a moment neither of them spoke.

He said, “You got brothers and sisters?”

“Yeah,” said Shazam. He didn’t elaborate.

“If you were worried about their safety you should have told us,” said Vic. “We could have helped.”

“I’d just met you guys.”

It was on the tip of Wally’s tongue to say that was dumb, because they all trusted each other – they’d all agreed to trust each other, when they’d joined the League – but then, he supposed, most of them had known each other at least a little when they’d started out. They’d been acquainted – acquaintances of acquaintances, bare minimum. To Shazam they’d been a bunch of strangers.

And he was pretty sure none of them had family situations that were as – vulnerable, as Shazam’s must be. He didn’t think anyone in the League had kids at home.

Not that he’d ever asked.

Tapping his hand decisively on the table, Shazam got up to join them. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah it is,” said Wally.

“It really is,” said Vic.

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Shazam.

“Alright, look,” said Wally. “Look. Leaving aside the whole question of whether it’s appropriate for you to be in the League in the first place, there’s just, ah –”

“There’s what?”

“There are,” Wally said. “Certain. Boundaries. We would have set out with you, if we’d known how old you were. Do you get my drift?”

Shazam shook his head. “Not really.”

“There’s, you know,” said Wally. “Some topics, that, that – stuff that’s kind of inappropriate, to –”

“He’s upset cause he talked to you about his sex life,” Vic interrupted. Wally shot him a look. He’d been trying to avoid saying it in as many words.

“What?” said Shazam. “Why?”

“It’s just – it’s weird,” said Wally. “I don’t know if I made things weird or you made things weird, but someone made things weird.”

“I don’t see how,” said Shazam. “It’s not like I minded.”

“Well, I mind!”

“I’d totally talk to you about my sex life,” said Shazam. “If I had one.”

“Okay.” Wally breathed out, and stepping closer slung his arm around Shazam’s shoulders. “Kid. I am gonna be frank with you. No matter how our relationship may develop in the future, I am never gonna want to hear about your sex life.” He prodded Shazam’s unreasonably muscled chest. “Capisce?”

“That seems kind of harsh,” said Shazam. “It’s not like I’ll be fourteen forever.”

“Yeah, but I’ll always have known you when you were fourteen,” said Wally. He patted Shazam’s chest. “You get me?”

Shazam screwed up his face. “Not really.”

“Okay, you know what?” said Wally, jabbing a finger at him. “It, it doesn’t actually matter if you understand this or not. I’m laying down a boundary here. We are never gonna talk about this again, understood?”

“Sure.” Shazam shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Great.” Wally patted his chest once more for emphasis and released him.

“Cool,” said Shazam. “Hey Vic, what do you mean you thought I was lowballing? You thought I was older?”

“Well – yeah,” said Vic.

“I think we all kind of figured you weren’t human,” said Wally.

“Really?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Is that why you were asking me if I was an alien?” said Shazam. “I thought you were kidding.”

“We figured you probably weren’t an alien,” said Vic.

“Then what did you think?” said Shazam.

“We just figured you were immortal or something,” said Wally.

“You did?” Shazam said. “Why?”

“Power set, behaviour, general vibes,” said Vic. “Hey, can I offer you some advice?”

Shazam shrugged. “Sure.”

“If I were you I’d lean into the ancient immortal being thing,” said Vic. “It’d make your life a lot easier.”

“What? Why?” said Shazam.

“Help me out here,” said Vic to Wally.

“How do I put this,” Wally said. “It’s, uh. If a person talks to you for any length of time it’s really obvious that you’re not an adult human man?”

“What?” said Shazam. “It is not!!

“It really is,” said Vic. “Sorry, man. You got real weird vibes.”

“Not in a bad way!” Wally threw up his hands. “You have good vibes, don’t worry. Just weird.”

Shazam jabbed a finger at them. “I pass as an adult just fine.”

“Yeah, you uh,” said Wally. “You look like a grown man so no sane person is ever gonna think you’re a kid, but –”

Before he could go on – and if he was going to be honest, before he could cause any more offense than he already had – a zeta tube activated behind them.

“Recognised – Batman,” announced the Watchtower.

“Speak of the devil,” said Vic.

“What?” said Shazam.

“Cyborg,” said the Batman, sweeping into the meeting room. “Flash.”

“Hey, good to see you!” said Wally.

“Where were you?” said Vic.

“Subway system,” said the Batman, not breaking his stride.

“Subway?” said Vic. “What was on the subway?”

“Sphinx,” said the Batman.

“A sphinx?” said Wally, baffled.

“Is it –” said Vic.

“Handled.” The Batman reached the meeting table. “Shazam. Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, sir.” Shazam saluted him.

“How are you?”

“Physically or emotionally?” said Shazam. The Bat’s face didn’t so much as twitch. “I’m just fine.” He motioned at his chest. “Ribs all – non-broken. Just as ordered.”

“Good,” said the Batman tonelessly.

“You know what I love about this guy?” said Wally, jerking his head at him. “How warm and caring he is.”

The Batman fixed him with a steely, opaque glare.

“I’m kidding,” said Wally. “I’m just kidding.”

The Batman didn’t let up. His eyes narrowed. In spite of the mask his gaze somehow grew more intense. This, Wally thought, was what the perps he dealt with experienced – right before the screaming started.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. Please don’t get mad.”

The Bat looked away. “I take it you handled the rest.”

“Yep,” said Vic. “All quiet now.”

“Good,” said the Batman. He turned to Shazam. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah – that.” Shazam straightened up almost to his full height. “I know where the Axe of Sarpedon is.”

“Wait, for real?” said Vic.

“Where is it?” said Wally.

“How’d you find it?”

“Why didn’t you –”

“Okay – okay,” said Shazam, holding up his hands to silence them. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t know who has it. I don’t know how they got it. I don’t know why they’re doing this. I just know where it is. Like, geographically.”

“Do you have co-ordinates?” said Vic.

“No,” said Shazam. “But I can show you on a map.”

Half a minute later, they were gathered around a map projected on the meeting room table – looking at it, Wally thought, with at least a smidge incredulity on all fronts.

He said, “An amusement park?”

Shazam nodded. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure?” said Vic, tactfully dubious.

“Oh, yeah,” said Shazam. “I mean, I’m pretty sure. I’m mostly sure. I’m like – eighty seven per cent sure.”

“A whole eighty seven per cent?” said Wally, leaning half-sprawled on the table.

Shazam waggled a hand. “Ish.”

“Could you explain your reasoning?” said the Batman.

“I can try.” Shazam put his hand to his mouth in thought. “Okay. Okay, so the monsters we’ve been dealing with, they have a kind of – resonance. It hangs around for a while after they’re dead.”

“A resonance?” said Vic.

“A magical one, yeah,” said Shazam, as if that made perfect sense. “Anyway, I figured since the attacks have all been in the north east the axe was probably around there somewhere –”

“Checks out,” said Wally. They’d been thinking the same thing.

“So I figured I’d fly around till I found an area with the same resonance.” Shazam motioned at the map. “And here it is. Boo-yah.”

“You can sense magic?” Vic asked.

Shazam shrugged. “Apparently – yeah.”

“And the amusement part definitely has this resonance?” said Wally.

“Oh, yeah – all around the whole area,” said Shazam. “Mostly inside the fence. I went back a couple of days in a row and it’s like that all the time.”

“Uh-huh,” said Wally. “How long did it take you to find it?”

“Couple of weeks,” said Shazam. “Honestly thought it would take longer. I guess I lucked out.” He glanced up from the maps, and belatedly clocked their dubious expressions. “Look,” he said. “I’m not one hundred per cent sure the axe is down there, but there’s something in there with the same resonance and it sure doesn’t look like it’s being attacked by monsters. It’s worth checking out, right?”

Wally shrugged. “What do you think?” he said to the others.

“I think it’s the only lead we’ve got right now,” said Vic.

Tracing the sale of the axe had been a bust. The trail had gone cold weeks ago. Whoever had it had done a good job at covering their tracks. No digital paper trail. Must’ve paid in cash – bought it in person. Sometimes the simplest, stupidest things could be the smartest.

It was a lead. But the thing was, it was also a peace offering. Shazam knew they were mad at him and he’d waited to come back till he had an olive branch to offer them. Wally didn’t think he was lying – if he was going to be brutally honest with himself, he didn’t know Shazam well enough to say if he’d lie about something like this, but he was pretty sure he had the sense not to tell a lie this weird and stupid. But they only had his word to go on and there was every chance he was exaggerating whatever it was he’d felt.

“Bats?” he said.

“I think we need to know more,” said the Batman.

“Cool.” Wally straightened up. “Cool, cool. Well, I’ve got nothing on this afternoon – I can go take a look around.”

“Today?” said the Batman. “It’d be safer to wait till Aquaman or Wonder Woman is available.”

“Yeah, that could take days,” said Wally. “I’d like to get the ball rolling on this sooner rather than later.”

“I’m just not comfortable sending you in there with no back-up,” said the Batman.

“Bats,” said Wally. “C’mon. It’s recon in a small town amusement park. How dangerous could it be?”

“You can’t be too careful,” said the Batman.

You absolutely could be too careful, and Wally was about to say so when Shazam said, “I can back him up.”

Wally and the others exchanged glances. He’d take this one, he decided. “Shazam,” he said. “Buddy. No offense but, historically you’re, uh. Not the best at undercover.”

“Uh, yeah.” Shazam motioned at himself, at his vibrantly red costume and absurdly muscled body. “Shazam sucks at undercover, cause he looks like this and he’s got a lightning bolt on his chest that glows all the time.” He shrugged. “Regular me’s pretty good at it.”

It took Wally a moment to process what he was suggesting. “No.”

“He has a point,” said Vic.

“No he doesn’t,” said Wally.

“It’s an amusement park,” said Vic. “There’ll be kids there. He’ll blend right in.”

“Oh, I’m great at blending in,” said Shazam.

“Absolutely not,” said Wally. “No. Out of the question.”

“Why not?” said Shazam.

“You know why,” said Wally.

“What happened to it’s an amusement park, how dangerous can it be?” said Shazam. “Jeez, chill out.”

“That’s not,” said Wally. “It, it’s not – I – Bats,” he flapped a hand at the Batman. “Bats, back me up here.”

“Hm,” said the Batman. “It’s not a terrible idea.”

“Aw, come on!” said Wally. “Actually, I don’t know why I expected you to be any help, Mr Kid Sidekick.”

“You’re right that we need to get on this as soon as we can,” said the Batman. “Cyborg, what do you think?”

Vic shifted his stance. He turned to Shazam and said, “How long does it take you to power up?”

“About as long as it takes to say Shazam.”

“Then I guess,” said Vic. “I guess it should be fine.”

“It’ll be totally fine,” said Shazam. “I can handle myself.”

“Flash?” said the Batman.

“Fine,” said Wally. He threw up his hands. “Fine! Whatever. I guess I’m outnumbered.”

“You do not engage,” said the Batman to Shazam. “You go in, you look around the public areas to see if anything’s amiss, and then you get out. Understood?”

“Sure,” said Shazam. “Loud and clear.”

“That goes for both of you,” said the Batman. “No engagement.”

“Hey, what do you take me for?” said Wally. “I know how to do a recon mission.”

The Batman fixed him with a look. He said, “Do you need cash?”

“Sure,” said Wally. The Bat had deep pockets. He hadn’t pressed him on where he got his funds and he wasn’t above taking advantage. “If you’re offering.”

The Batman nodded. “Shazam, do you have your communicator?”

“Uh – no,” said Shazam. “No, it’s still, uh.” He trailed off into an embarrassed mumble.

“Cyborg, get him a spare,” said the Batman.

“You need any prep time?” said Wally.

“I need to make a stop first,” said Shazam. “Give me an hour.”

Wally had had a pretty regular day of being out of work planned.

He’d been planning to sleep in and then maybe do a quick run to California for lunch. And sure, he’d been the Flash long enough that he was used to having to throw his plans out the window, but today was pushing it. He’d been called into action at eight thirty in the fucking AM, almost died like five times, had one close call so close that he’d seen the pearly gates opening before him – and now he was standing around the parking lot of an amusement park waiting for a fourteen year old kid he barely knew to show up so they could do a recon mission based on resonances.

It was maybe the third weirdest day he’d had so far that month.

He sipped his coffee, looking up at the sign. Captain Cook’s Cwazy World of Attractions, & Petting Zoo & Family Restaurant, Free Parking, Kids Under 12 Half Price, had very clearly seen better days. The paintwork was peeling, one of the leering pirate’s eyes all but gone. The ticket booth was scuffed and faded. It had been raining when he showed up and it was still misting, a thin slick of water across the parking lot.

Still, in spite of the grey weather and in spite of the run-down state of the place, there was a decent line for a weekday afternoon. Maybe there just wasn’t much else in town to do after school. But it was unusual enough to take note of.

He scanned the parking lot once again, wondering not for the first time if he’d even recognise the kid when he arrived. He’d only seen him for a couple of minutes, in pretty weird circumstances. He wasn’t the best with faces.

Someone poked his arm. “Hey, Wally.”

“Yeargh!” he yelped, almost spilling his coffee. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” said the kid, not sounding very sorry.

Wally blinked at him. He’d been pretty sure he was prepared, mentally, for how weird this was gonna be. He was not prepared. The kid was looking at him expectantly, everything about his body language saying hey, I know you. Every rational bone in Wally’s brain was telling him he was looking at a virtual stranger.

He was wearing the same red hoodie he’d had on in Chicago, the hood pulled up against the rain. He’d traded out the fannypack for a backpack, slung over one shoulder. He looked, if anything, younger than Wally remembered. He jerked his head at the entrance. “We gonna get going?”

Wally found his tongue. “Sure.”

He necked his lukewarm coffee and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to act natural as they crossed the parking lot. He was usually pretty good at acting natural.

“So you gonna tell me your name?” he said.

“Wasn’t planning to,” said the kid.

“C’mon,” said Wally. “I gotta call you something.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m pretending to be your dad or whatever,” Wally said.

The kid squinted at him. “Are you even old enough to be my dad?”

“Ehh,” Wally did the math, “probably not. Older brother?”

“No-one’s gonna notice if you don’t call me anything,” said the kid.

“Can’t be too prepared,” Wally reminded him.

The kid scoffed. “Fine,” he said. He tilted his head to the side, considering. “You can call me – Tyrone.”

“That’s not your name,” said Wally.

“It could be my name.”

“But it’s not.”

“But it could be,” said the kid, meeting his eyes, his face disgustingly innocent.

“Fine,” said Wally. “Fine! Whatever, Tyrone.”

“Cool,” said the kid. “Hey, you wanna pick a fake mission name?”

“Ooh,” said Wally. “I could pick a fake name.” He hadn’t thought of that. Usually if he used an alias on a mission the Bat picked it out for him in advance. “Okay,” he said. “Call me – Tyler. No, wait, Chad. No no, Tyler –”

They were coming up on the end of the line. “Speed it up, Wally.”

“Hughie,” he decided. “Call me Hughie.”

“Hughie?”

“Shhh!” Wally shushed him. “Quiet, Tyrone.”

They joined the line behind a bunch of giggly kids. Wally peered up at the sign overhead, considering it as they moved up the line and it sailed out of view.

Ducking his head and lowering his voice he said, “Do you think we can pass you off as under twelve?”

The kid shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do we have to? It’s kind of humiliating.”

Wally shrugged. “More money to spend on snacks later?”

“Deal,” said the kid. “Go for it.”

“Cool,” said Wally. “Keep your mouth shut, okay?”

The kid shot him a look and dutifully kept his mouth shut all the way to the front of the line.

“Goooood afternoon!” Wally leaned on the painter counter. “This here’s Tyrone,” he said, jerking his head at the kid. “He’s eleven and a half.”

The teller shot him a bored look. It was obvious she didn’t believe him for a second, but she punched out one adult and one under twelve ticket. “Fifteen ninety-nine.”

He reached for his wallet, still smiling. “How’s it going? Busy day?”

“Fifteen ninety-nine,” she intoned.

“Hey, that’s great.” He counted out the cash. “You enjoy the rest of your afternoon, now.”

The turnstile unlocked with a clunk and he made to put a hand on the kid’s back and guide him on in. The kid flinched, shrugging him off hard and pointed, and that sure had to look weird. He flashed the teller an apologetic smile as he edged through the turnstile. Thankfully she didn’t give a shit.

So there they were, in what had to be the crummiest amusement park in the tristate area. To their left the path curved around towards a line of carnival games. To their right, a path leading to the bumper cars, which were out of commission. The air smelled of stale popcorn and faintly of vinegar. Up ahead, looming over the bedraggled greenery of the petting zoo, the park’s one rollercoaster, an elderly looking wooden thing he could practically hear creaking.

It was about the least magical place Wally had ever seen. He put his hands on his hips and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing there.

Okay, he told himself. Worst case scenario the kid was wrong and all they’d accomplish was ruling out the lead. Well, technically worst case scenario was that they both ended up dead, but they ought to be realistic. The only way they were likely to wind up dead in that place was if they took a ride on the rollercoaster.
He jerked his head at the kid and made for the carnival games. “C’mon.”

He sauntered on, his hands in his pockets, trying to act like he was just trying to decide what to do first. The Batman had once told him that the key to being undercover was to forget you even were undercover, till you needed to; to fully commit to the bit, he supposed. He was no good at that. He was too in his head.

And anyway, he wasn’t sure he trusted the Bat’s advice on undercover work since, since best as he could tell the guy never did any.

“So what are we looking for?” said the kid.

“I dunno,” he said. “You getting any – resonances?”

“Well, not right now.” The kid said it like it was super obvious.

“What’d you mean?”

“I can’t do that when I’m not – you know,” the kid said.

“Ohh,” said Wally it clicked. “Okay.” He tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth in thought. “So do you have any powers when you’re – you?”

“It’s kind of an all or nothing deal,” said the kid.

“Cool,” said Wally. “Good to know.” He walked on a little way. “In that case I guess we’re just looking for anything weird.”

“Like what?”

“I guess we’ll know it when we see it.”

“But what if we don’t?”

“Hey, this was your idea, okay?” said Wally.

“Do you,” said the kid, “not want to be in charge?”

“I –” Wally considered the alternative. “Let’s just walk around and see if anything looks out of place, okay?”

“Cool,” said the kid. “So where do you want to start?”

They were coming up on the teacup ride. It was also shut down. Did this place have any functioning rides, Wally wondered. He leaned against the fence and tilting his head back looked at the sky, considering their next move.

“Do you wanna get lunch?” he said. “Let’s do lunch.”

Through trial and error, he’d found that the maximum number of hotdogs you could eat in public before people started giving you weird looks was, sadly, two. Many more than that and people would start to look at you like hey, what’s with that guy eating all the hotdogs. He didn’t need that kind of attention right now.

It had started drizzling again. They stood huddled under an awning at the edge of the food court, eating their passable hotdogs. The kid had taken down his hood. Wally studied him out of the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle about it.

He sure wasn’t talkative, which was – kind of a surprise, considering how much Shazam loved the sound of his own voice. Maybe it was cause they were trying to keep a low profile. Maybe he just wasn’t entirely comfortable around Wally now that he was – kid-shaped.

He looked – kind of like Shazam. If someone had told Wally he was Shazam’s kid brother, he’d have been like yeah, that checks out. Every time he thought about how the kid was Shazam he got a little dizzy.

The kid swallowed a mouthful of hotdog. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not,” said Wally.

“Fuck off.” The kid went back to eating his hotdog.

Wally blinked, kind of thrown. He said, “So, uh. How’s your hotdog?”

“I’ve had worse,” said the kid.

“Me too.” Wally scrunched the wrapper in his hand. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Depends what it is.”

“When you, uh,” said Wally. “When you said the suit doesn’t come off. What did you mean?” It had been at the back of his mind since some time after Chicago. Now was as good a time as any to ask.

The kid glanced at him. He looked around the food court, making sure no-one was paying attention to them, then leaned in closer and said, “Okay, look, it doesn’t have any fastenings and it’s pretty much indestructible. If there’s a way to take it off I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Huh.” Wally digested that, or tried to. “So how do you. Uh.”

The kid fixed him with a look. “How do I what, Wally?”

“Actually, never mind,” said Wally. He started on his second hotdog. “So how much trouble are you gonna be in when you get home?”

“Hard to say,” said the kid with a shrug. “Not your problem.”

“I just – don’t like the idea of landing you in shit,” said Wally. “Do you want me to write you a note or something?”

“I landed me in shit,” said the kid. “And like, no offense, but I don’t know if a note from you would help much.”

“Yeah,” said Wally. “You might be right. You could ask the big guy to write you a note?”

“A note from Superman?” The kid shook his head. “Nah. He didn’t make a great impression on my foster mom. Also isn’t he in Europe?”

“Point taken,” said Wally. He finished his second hotdog and thought wistfully about going back for more.

“I’ll be fine,” said the kid. “They’re not going to beat my ass or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. They’re pretty nice people.”

That wasn’t what he’d been worried about, as it happened, but now the thought – not to mention the nonchalant way the kid had thrown the idea out there – was stuck in his head, and he was lost for words.

“Hey, here’s something weird,” said the kid. “It’s pretty busy, right? For the middle of the week.”

“Yeah,” said Wally.

“But there’s almost no-one on the rollercoaster.” The kid nodded at it.

Wally squinted. There was a car chugging its way up the track towards the first drop, maybe a quarter full. “Hey, you’re right,” he said. “Are all the cars like that?”

“I’ve been watching them go around,” said the kid. “That’s weird, right? It’s the biggest ride. You’d think that’d be what people come here for.”

“So you think they’re coming here for something else?”

The kid shrugged. “Maybe.”

Wally considered the rollercoaster. “It’s a solid observation,” he said. “But to be fair, that is the saddest rollercoaster I’ve ever seen”

“I’ll take your word for it.” The kid’s gaze tracked the car as it dropped. “I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“Really?” said Wally. “Not ever? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” said the kid. “Just never had the opportunity, I guess. Are they fun?”

“Yeah!” said Wally. “Well. I mean, I loved them when I was a kid. They might not do so much for me now. Cause, y’know.” He flapped a hand, trying to convey, you know, cause I’m the fastest man alive and I can go faster than any rollercoaster without breaking a sweat.

“Cool,” said the kid.

“Do you wanna give it a go?” said Wally.

The kid’s eyes went to the rollercoaster. “On that thing?” he said. “Fuck, no.”

Wally snorted. “You swear a lot, huh?”

“So?”

“It’s just,” said Wally. “I never heard you swear before.”

“Shazam doesn’t swear,” said the kid, his mouth full of hotdog. “Shazam has an image to maintain.” He swallowed. “I’ll swear as much as I fucking want.”

Something about the way the kid worded it struck him – something about it knocked together in his head with some other stuff, and a thought crossed his mind. “So is it like. A split personality kind of deal?”

The kid shot him a disdainful look. “No, why?”

“No reason.”

The kid shrugged it off. “So why didn’t you want me to come out today?”

“You know why,” said Wally. The kid looked at him as if to say enlighten me. “Because you’re a kid?”

“You didn’t mind me helping you out in New York,” said the kid.

“That’s – well, I kinda – I, I, I wasn’t one hundo per cent comfortable with that either,” said Wally. “And anyway, it’s different. Earlier you were invincible. Right now you’re all –” He waved a hand at the kid. “Squishy and breakable.”

“You realise you’re squishy and breakable too, right?” said the kid.

“I’m also really fast,” said Wally.

“Won’t stop you breaking all your bones,” said the kid. “Seriously. I worry about you.”

“You worry about me?” Wally said. “Jesus. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m a grown ass man!”

“Yeah, but you did really stupid shit sometimes,” said the kid.

“Not mutually exclusive,” said Wally. “Fuck off.”

“Sure. Hey, do you want the rest of this?” The kid shoved the end of his hotdog at him. “I’m not that hungry.”

Wally touched a hand to his chest. “A boy after my own heart.”

If nothing else, he reflected in the restroom, even if the lead didn’t pan out, he’d got a free lunch out of it. Plus he still had twenty dollars of Bat-money in his wallet that he had no plans of returning.

As he stepped outside a voice called, “Hey – Hughie,” and it took him a solid five seconds to remember that meant him.

“Over here,” said the kid, waving at him.

“What’s up?” said Wally, jogging over to join him.

He was standing by a map of the park. Wally scanned it briefly; like everything else it was faded and worn out. There wasn’t all that much park to look around, just a single looping path around the rollercoaster and the petting zoo. It shouldn’t take long.

The kid pointed at the upper left corner of the map. “This one’s new.”

Following his finger Wally saw what he meant. A new section of map had been pasted on – kind of sloppily, the lines of the path not quite matching up. The colours were still bright and glossy.

“Hey, yeah,” he said. The illustration showed a little castle – not really a castle, as much as a garden with a crenelated wall around it. Inside the wall, a cartoon unicorn – something that might have been meant to be a griffin – a dragon. He read the name of the attraction aloud. “Merlin’s Magical Safari Kingdom.”

The kid shot him a significant look.

“Nice catch.” Wally made to put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go –”

When his fingers brushed the kid’s shoulder, he flinched – not a conscious shrugging off, unmistakeably a full-on, involuntary, spine-shivering flinch.

“Whoa,” Wally said, holding up his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing personal,” said the kid. “I just don’t really like people touching me.”

“Oh,” said Wally. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

There were a lot of reasons the kid might feel that way. All sorts of people didn’t like being touched, for any number of reasons, and that went for kids in foster care too. But his brain went straight to the worst reasons the kid might not want people putting their hands on him, which was a kind of hell he hadn’t experienced before, and all of a sudden he felt kind of sick.

“I,” he said. “Uh –”

“Let’s just get going, okay?” The kid stalked away.

It was only as he started walking that it struck him that he’d been kind of touchy-feely with Shazam. Actually, he’d been very touchy-feely with Shazam. He was touchy-feely with most of his friends, if they were okay with it. Shazam had always seemed fine with it. He’d never responded in kind but he’d never acted like it bothered him.

“Hey, look,” he said, half-jogging to catch the kid up. “I’m sorry.”

The kid glanced at him over his shoulder. “For what?”

“I just – feel like I’ve been touching you a lot,” he said.

“Today?”

“Ever,” said Wally. “I guess.”

“Ohh – I get you,” said the kid. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t mean to –”

“It doesn’t bother me when I’m –” The kid motioned above his own head. Big. “You know.”

“If I’ve been making you uncomfortable,” said Wally. “You can –”

“If it bothered me before today I would’ve said something,” said the kid. “And if it really bothered me I would’ve just beat your ass. Chill out.”

“If you’re sure –”

“I’m not mad at you,” said the kid. “But I’m gonna be if you do not shut up.”

“Shutting up,” said Wally.

They were rounding the side of the park, past the entrance of the petting zoo. Up ahead, a circus tent came into view – not a circus tent. A round building shaped and painted to look like one, in red and yellow stripes. He didn’t recognise it from the map. As they drew closer, he noticed that the gate leading to it was shut up and locked. The signs had all been pasted over.

Just past the circus tent, a plywood archway in the same of a portcullis – and beyond that, a pretty substantial line of people. “Looks popular,” he said.

“Weird?” said the kid.

“A little,” Wally conceded.

“So, uh,” he said as they got their tickets punched. “What’s in there?”

“It’s magical,” said the attendant flatly, shoving their tickets back at them. “Have a nice day.”

“Service isn’t exactly stellar, huh?” said Wally, joining the line.

“Shut it, Hughie,” said the kid.

The line was moving, if not too quickly. They shuffled on. Once they were well out of earshot of the attendant Wally said, “So do you think this is where the resonances were coming from?”

“Stop saying it like that, it’s a real thing,” said the kid. “And, I’m not sure. When we flew over I felt like it was coming from all across the park.”

Wally pricked up his ears. “We?”

“Me,” said the kid. “I. When I flew over.”

He’d put a pin in that, Wally decided, and bug him about it later. “Whatever.”

“What are we even queuing for?” The kid bounced on his tip-toes, trying to see over the line. “It’s not a ride, right?” He caught Wally looking at him. “What?”

“You’re just so little,” said Wally. The kid glowered. “I’m used to you being all –” He waved a hand above the kid’s head at Shazam’s approximate height. “You know.”

The kid batted his hand away. “Fucking quit it!”

“Hey!” said Wally. “Language. There’s little kids.”

“Asshole,” said the kid.

They lapsed back into silence, following the line on around a corner, and another. Up ahead, looking over the attraction entrance, was a plywood wizard with a purple robe and manic, staring eyes.

The kid stared up at it dubiously. “Amusement parks are usually better than this, right?” he said. “I’ve never been to an actual one before.”

“Shit, for real?” said Wally. “What did you do with your entire childhood?”

A look passed across the kid’s face, just for a moment, that made him feel like the world’s biggest dick for asking. “I don’t know,” he said. “A bunch of stuff. Are we almost there?”

“I think so,” said Wally.

The end of the line came into view, the attendant letting groups in at intervals. They passed under the wizard and after a last moment’s wait they were finally inside.

The path led onwards between hedges and faux-greenery, bedecked with glitter and fake spider webs and plastic flowers. It curved around, and up ahead widened out into a viewing area. A group of people were gathered there, watching something over the fence, and Wally and the kid slowed to a halt, waiting for the way to clear.

Wally studied the spectators, trying to gauge their reactions. They looked pretty excited. Certainly delight. But not wowed the way you’d expect from something that was real actual magic. He spoke from experience when he said that genuine magic had a genuine wow factor.

“I don’t think there’s anything in there,” he said to the kid.

“There must be something in here.”

“Yeah, but,” said Wally. “I don’t know if there’s anything, you know. Weird.”

“We just got here,” said the kid. “It’s been like thirty seconds.”

“Most stuff that calls itself magic is pretty much just bullshit,” Wally said.

“Yeah, I know that!” said the kid. “God!”

An attendant moved the group up ahead on, and they started walking towards the viewing area.

“Look,” said Wally. “I’m just saying –”

He looked out over the fence, and shut the fuck up.

Pacing the space between the trees was – a dragon. It was big, maybe elephant-sized. It had wings like a bat and every so often it would spread them and shake them out. Its scales were a burnished green, with golden claws and horns. Its eyes glowed orange like fire.

Its movements, as it paced and stretched and spread out its wings, were fluid – organic. Its eyes, when it turned to look at them over the fence, were alert. Alive. It was breathtakingly, horribly real.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d take it for a really, really good animatronic, or something like that. But Wally did know better, and he knew it at once. It was clay, powered by magic. It was the finished version of the monster they’d seen in Chicago.

The dragon in Chicago had been sloppily made – rough and ready, cracked and shedding dust when it moved, grey-brown with dirt. This one was beautiful. Perfect. Complete.

Throwing back its head, the dragon spat orange-gold sparks at the sky, and the group of kids that had followed them into the viewing area ooed in delight.

The kid said softly, “You were saying?”

“Okay,” said Wally. “Point to you.”

“What do we do?”

He had – a lot of questions. What it was doing here, in a crummy amusement park in Pennsylvania. Why its pale imitation had been sent to Chicago. Who had made it, and why. Why.

He tore his eyes away from the dragon, squinting at what was behind it. An ordinary brick wall of an ordinary building, visible through the artificial greenery. Set into it, a discreet, unmarked door.

Okay, then.

“C’mon.” He ushered the kid away, past the attendant, to an emptier stretch of path. “Okay,” he said, lowering his voice. “You get out of here, find a quiet spot, call this in.”

“Sure,” said the kid. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna get a good look at the rest of the attraction,” said Wally.

The kid stared at him. “What for?”

“To see what we’re dealing with?” said Wally. “Will you get going?”

“Okay!” said the kid. “Okay.”

He moved off, and Wally turned away – but after a moment the kid doubled back and grabbed his elbow. “Be careful,” he said.

“I’ll be fine!” Wally tugged his elbow out of the kid’s grip. “Just go make the call, okay?”

“Okay,” said the kid. “Jeez. I’m gone.”

Wally watched him half-jog down the path, darting between visitors, vanishing around the corner. He waited a little longer, just to be sure the kid wasn’t coming back.

In a fraction of a second, he was over the fence and at the door. Another couple of fractions was all it took to bust the lock – and he was in.

The door opened onto a bare hallway. He stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered on in to explore. No point in suiting up yet – if he was caught in his civvies there was a chance he could play it off as a whoops, got lost trying to find the bathroom situation.

Not that there was much to explore. An empty room, with marks against the wall where furniture had been. A store room with a bunch of faux-foliage and cans of what he found on investigation to be spray glitter.

Probably not, he imagined, the kind of attraction that needed controls or traditional maintenance. But there had to be something. He shut the store room door and moved onto the next.

Bingo. On the other side of the corridor, a door; stencilled onto it the words Authorised Personnel Only. He tried the handle. It was locked.

Beyond the door a set of stairs led down. This, he decided, was the point beyond which I’m a lost visitor who needs to pee real bad wasn’t going to fly. He suited up.

Two flights of stairs down to another hallway, made of bare concrete and lit shakily from above. Secret passage for staff to get around the park, he figured. He’d heard they had them at Disneyland.

He followed it back in the direction of the park entrance, for a couple of hundred yards to a set of double doors that were locked up tight. Peeping through the glass pane he saw a chain and a heavy-duty padlock on the other side.

On his right, a less securely locked door, unmarked. He climbed the stairs beyond, back up to ground level, and busted open the door at the top.

It opened into a wide space. A round, high-ceilinged building room, the only light coming from narrow windows near the roof. He guessed at once where he was; the circus tent building they’d passed on their way up. It was pretty much empty, what little furniture that had been left there shoved up against the curved walls. The tiled floor was thick with dust.

Dead centre, below the pitched roof, a concrete block. And set into the top, its blade half buried in the concrete – the axe.

“Oooh, boy,” he said to himself. “Dead on the money, kid.”

It was big – bigger than he’d realised from the pictures. Slightly too big, he thought, for human hands. It was forged from a single chunk of bronze, black and weathered with age. He couldn’t make out the symbols. He thought then, as he had when he’d first seen the photos, that it didn’t look like something that had been made by humans. It looked like something that had fallen from space, like a meteorite.

Hell, maybe it had fallen from space.

He took a step towards it. The ground underfoot crunched and looking down he realised, uneasily, that he was walking on ground-up clay.

There was a flicker of light on the axe – the symbols, lighting up, rapidly blinking on and off and on again. It went still. He edged closer, and after a couple of seconds it happened again, the symbols flashing white-gold and erratic.

He stopped beside its plinth, watching the symbols flash and go dark. It had been lodged into the plinth with enough force to crack the concrete. Weird.

He eyed its dark metal handle, considering. The symbols flickered again. Up close there was a sound accompanying the flicker, a soft fzz, fzz. It didn’t have the wow factor of the dragon, but it was the real deal. It was pinging the same bit of his monkey hind-brain as Shazam. The yeah, this is some ancient, primordial magic part. He missed the days when he didn’t know his brain had a primordial magic-sensing area.

He reached out to touch the handle.

A voice rang out in the stillness of the circus tent. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

Yeah, Wally thought. That figures. He dropped his hand.

A man was closing the external door behind him. There was a solid clunk of a lock. He was on the short side – broad chested. He was wearing a faded grey suit and a Stetson hat. His shouldered were hunched, his hands clasping together in front of him, as if he was pleading.

Stepping away from the axe, Wally smiled tightly. “Captain Cook, I presume?”

“I figured you people would find me eventually,” said Captain Cook, wringing his hands.

“Oh, yeah,” Wally bluffed. “We’ve been onto you for a while.” He jabbed a thumb at the axe. “This yours?”

Captain Cook didn’t answer him. “I want you to know that I’m a reasonable man, Mr Flash.” He shuffled closer over the clay-scattered floor. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Sure thing,” said Wally. “You down to hand over the axe and turn yourself in?”

“I didn’t steal it, you know,” said Captain Cook.

“I don’t care.”

“It came into my possession by – happenstance.” He edged closer. “I hope you’ll appreciate,” he nodded at the axe, “this old thing is my livelihood. It’s all that’s keeping my business afloat, Mr Flash.”

“I don’t care about your business,” said Wally. “And it’s just Flash, thanks. You can quit mistering me.”

“I’m sure we can talk this out,” said Captain Cook.

Yeah, that was the way to do it. Keep him talking, till he could figure out his next move.

“Okay.” He held up his hands. “Let’s talk. I get it, okay? I get what you’re doing here, with the axe and the – the magical creature show. It’s a nice little scheme you’ve got going. But what’s with the monsters?”

Captain Cook took another step forward. His face was bleak.

“What were you trying to accomplish?” said Wally. “What was the point?”

Captain Cook spread his sweaty hands. “With any innovation there’s gonna be wrinkles to iron out. Right?”

“Wrinkles?”

“I really do appreciate what you and your people have been doing,” said Captain Cook. “I never wanted anyone harmed.”

It was one of those things you didn’t see till someone drew your attention to it – and then it was all you could see.

The rough, half-baked nature of the creatures, compared to what he’d seen in the attraction. The random locations of the attacks. The lack of any pattern – any motive. Why would you send a bunch of monsters to attack a housing development under construction on the outskirts of Chicago. Answer: you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“I’m sure I’ll have it stable any day now,” said Captain Cook, his hands spread in supplication and trembling.

“You can’t control it,” said Wally. “You didn’t even mean to make them. Did you?”

Captain Cook stepped closer, his feet slipping on the dust. “There are always setbacks,” he said. “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m a reasonable man. But I have debts to pay.” He shuffled still closer. “I have a family.”

“Do they know what you’ve done?” said Wally. “Did you tell them?”

“They know I’d do anything for them,” said Captain Cook. He stepped alongside the plinth. “Please. We can be reasonable about this. It’s just business.”

“Business,” said Wally. “Do you have any idea how many people you’ve killed?”

Captain Cook smiled – a thin, sad smile. He sat his hand upon the axe, wrapping his fingers around its grooved handle. He said,

“Trap him.”

The symbols lit up bright white.

Something struck him hard in the chest, hard enough to knock all the air out of him, and he was flying across the room – he slammed into the wall, pain flaring in his back. A bar of solid clay was pressed to his chest, pinning him to the wall. He couldn’t move his arms. His feet just barely touched the floor. It was – a little hard to breathe.

He caught his breath. “Aw, you really think this’ll hold me?” he said. “You gotta do better than that. Check this out.”

He’d just vibrate out of it, and then –

The clay bar was solid – it held firm. It was just clay, and yet it was made out of something that didn’t phase. It wasn’t possible. He tried again, his teeth jarring with the vibration. Again. Still nothing happened.

He breathed out. “Shit,” he said. “Okay.” God damn it, he hated magic.

“I so hoped we could be reasonable about this,” said Captain Cook, still holding the handle of the axe.

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” said Wally. “It’s okay. I get it now. You’re a goddamn lunatic.”

Captain Cook’s grip on the axe tightened – and the bar tightened with it, rib-crunchingly tight. He grunted aloud in pain.

“Please, Mr Flash,” said Captain Cook. “Let’s talk.”

“Two hundred and fifty seven,” Wally gasped out. “That’s how many people you killed.”

“I never killed anyone,” said Captain Cook. “But I’d do it. For my family.”

“You slimy fucker,” said Wally.

“That boy you were talking to,” said Captain Cook.

Wally’s blood ran cold.

“Who is he?”

“Boy,” said Wally. “What boy?”

“The boy you were eating with in my food court,” said Captain Cook. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Wally. “Just some kid. We got talking. I don’t know him.”

“You came into my park with him,” said Captain Cook, and Wally’s blood ran still colder. “One of my people heard you talking. Superman this, Shazam that. I’d have thought the Justice League would be more subtle. What does the boy have to do with all this?”

“Nothing,” said Wally. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know jack.”

Captain Cook was nodding, his face solemn. He adjusted his grip on the axe, and turning to it said, “Give me something that can hunt.”

The symbols flashed. The dust on the floor shivered, rising up into a cloud like smoke. Wally fought against his bonds, feet scrabbling vainly against the ground, his teeth gritted, as it took shape.

Teeth – mouths, three of them. Heads, and necks. Four legs, with fearsome clawed feet. A dog the size of a car, with three biting, baying mouths, dark bristling fur, eyes that glowed red.

“Find the boy,” said Captain Cook. “Bring him to me.”

The three headed dog dissolved into the dust, flowing beneath the door, out of sight. Wally’s stomach dropped down to the centre of the earth.

“He’s just a kid,” he said again. “We got talking. He’s not –”

Captain Cook tightened his grip again, and he choked. It was hard to draw breath, the pressure against his diaphragm getting crushing. It was hard to draw breath. It was really starting to hurt. Yikes, he thought. This is gonna suck. The pressure grew still tighter. He felt his ribs cracking. He could barely breathe.

For the second time that day, Wally realised he was gonna die.

He was going to die, crushed to death in that crummy little amusement park by an idiot in a stupid hat. He was gonna die because he’d been dumb enough to go off without back up. Because he hadn’t listened to Shazam when he’d said there was something dangerous in that place. He was gonna die there, alone.

Captain Cook was crunching across the dusty floor towards him.

“They’ll,” Wally croaked out. “They’ll come for you. You know they will.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Captain Cook, smiling another thin smile. “I’m sorry about this, Mr Flash. I take no pleasure in it.”

“We called for – back up,” Wally managed, a last, desperate bluff. “They’ll be here –”

“I’ll be gone,” said Captain Cook.

It was getting kind of hard to think. “You won’t get away with this,” he said. That much, at least, was true. The League would catch him. They’d figure out what had happened and they’d go wow, Wally got himself killed by some Stetson-wearing sleezebag who runs a petting zoo? What a dumbass.

“It’ll be over soon,” said Captain Cook. “I –”

Somewhere outside, in the distance, there was a crash of thunder.

A smile spread across Wally’s face as it sank in, what had just happened. “Oh,” he said, raising his head. “Buddy. You are screwed.”

Captain Cook glanced uneasily over his shoulder. A second later, the doors exploded inwards.

Shazam marched in through the settling dust, lightning still sparking around his hair and the edges of his cap, dragging the dog writhing and panting by one of its necks. And oh boy was Wally glad to see him.

“Oh, no,” said the Captain, making for the axe at a shuffling jog. “No, no –”

Shazam tossed the dog at him, sending them both flying across the room, and not even breaking his stride he followed it up with a blast of lighting that blew the dog back into clay. “Hey, Flash!”

“Hey,” said Wally.

“Need a hand?”

“Could use one,” Wally choked out.

Shazam put his hands on the clay bar and wrenched. It didn’t give. “Hm.” He adjusted his grip. “Hang on – I got this.”

“You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Eh,” said Shazam, his hands sparking, starting to crackle. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Ohh, no –” Wally squeezed his eyes shut.

Electricity pulsed through the clay and as it shattered around him every hair on his body stood on end and he could feel it in his goddamn teeth, his fillings vibrating – and his feet touched the ground.

He drew in a shaky breath – a steadier one. “Hey, thanks.”

“Any time.” Shazam saluted him. “You okay?”

“I’ll walk it off,” said Wally, brushing dust off his suit. He could already feel his ribs knitting back together. He’d be fine in a couple of minutes. It’d ache for an hour or two.

“What are you doing in here?” said Shazam.

“I’ll explain later,” said Wally. “Did you make the call?”

“Sure –”

Captain Cook’s voice rang out, unsteady but clear. “Give me something that can kill Shazam.”

To Wally’s stomach-twisting horror, he had his hand on the axe.

“No –” In an instance he’d closed the gap between them and tackled Captain Cook to the ground – but it was too little too late. The dust on the ground was already shivering with magic. It floated up into the air around the axe, taking shape.

A hand, gripping the handle of the axe. An arm. A body. It rose up, up, up, till its skull brushed the ceiling – its arms and chest gleamed like polished metal, rippling with clay muscle. One eye burned in its forehead. With a grinding of bronze on concrete, it took the axe from the plinth.

“Huh,” said Shazam, squaring up like he could fistfight the damn thing. “Okay.”

Wally yelled out, “Careful!”

Shazam blasted it with lightning from both hands, bolts crackling over its body, and the cyclops’s head fell back in a roar of pain and fury – but it didn’t give. Its clay didn’t even crack. Steadying itself, it raised the axe.

Shazam’s hands were outstretched to try again when the axe caught him fully in the chest. It sent him flying into the wall, crashing through it like paper into the open air – and he was gone. Wally waited a breathless couple of heartbeats for him to bounce back. He didn’t come back.
No, he thought as his veins filled with ice. Oh no, no, no –

Okay, he told himself. Okay. Regroup. It was heading at a lumbering pace towards the hole it had made. If Shazam’s lightning couldn’t kill it he didn’t stand a chance. He had to keep it inside the building. If it got out there was every chance it’d kill everyone between it and its target. If he could just keep it busy till Shazam came back –

Or failing that till someone at the Watchtower noticed something was up and came to check on them.

He raced between it and its exit. “Hey there, big guy! Come get me!”

Lumbering around to follow him it swung the axe – and missed.

“Whoa, too slow!” Wally shouted from atop the plinth. “I’m over here!”

“No – no!” cried out Captain Cook as it turned towards him. “Leave him! Get the other one!”

Freezing in place, it listened to its master and turned away.

“Nuh-uh!” Grabbing a chunk of dead dog from the ground Wally tossed it as hard as he could at the back of the cyclops’s head. “Come get me!” It didn’t turn.

He ran in circles around its feet, stirring up dust, and it tottered. “C’mon!” he cried out, waving his arms in the air. “Look at me! I’m so punchable!”

The axe came down where he was standing, crashing into the floor with enough force to bury half the blade, and the cyclops wrenched, struggling to free it.

“Get the other one!” Captain Cook was yelling. “Get Shazam!”

“Hey, hey!” Wally hopped back up on the plinth. “I’m Shazam! Shazam over here!”

The axe smashed through the empty plinth, shattering it into concrete fragments.

“Whoops!” said Wally from the busted in doors. “Missed me again!”

“Will you stop that?” yelled Captain Cook.

“I’m Shazam!” Wally cried as it turned on him. “I’m Shazam! Come get me!”

It raised the axe for another strike – and with a crackle of lightning and a blur of red, it jerked, staggering – and there was Shazam, gripping its arm, holding it back.

The tension in Wally’s chest eased.

Lightning tore through the cyclops again, and again, but while it shook and spasmed still it didn’t so much as crack. Roaring it grabbed Shazam with its free hand, gripping him around the waist and pinning his arms to his sides.

“I don’t think that’s gonna cut it, kid!” Wally called up at him.

“I figured,” said Shazam, struggling against its grip. “I have an idea –”

It dropped him to the ground and swung the axe – it struck the ground with a ringing crash and in a blur of motion Shazam was next to him. There was a black mark across his chest, a stark scorched line against the red of his suit. Wally gritted his teeth. He’d never seen Shazam take damage before. How hard did that thing hit.

“Keep it distracted,” said Shazam. “I’m gonna try and get the axe.”

“Cool,” said Wally. If there was one thing he was good at, it was being distracting.

“Hey!” he called out from the other side of the circus tent. “Hey, I’m over here!”

The axe crashed into the wall behind him with enough force to shake the building.

“You gonna get me?” he said, looping around his ankles. “Huh? You gonna get me?”

“Shazam!” Captain Cook hollered. “Get Shazam!”

Hopping up onto the piled-up furniture he yelled, “Shazam’s right over here, big guy!”

The cyclops brought down the axe, smashing the furniture into kindling.

“That one!” Captain Cook thrust a finger at Shazam, floating near the ceiling. “Get that one!”

It swung the axe at Shazam and smashed another gaping hole in the wall.

“Hey!” said Wally, hopping back and forth. “I’m right here! Hit me, hit me, hit me!”

The axe came down hard on the floor – hard enough to embed it in the concrete beneath the tiles – and the cyclops tugged on it, grunting aloud in exertion.

“Shazam – now!”

Lightning hit the cyclops, bright and hard, and it spasmed, muscles jerking, hands unclenching – releasing the axe. Shazam dove for it, sliding the last few feet across the floor and heaving it one handed out of the concrete. He leapt to his feet, wheeling on the cyclops.

“What now?” said Wally.

“I got this,” said Shazam.

The cyclops was lumbering towards them. Shazam angled the axe at its chest – and the symbols began to glow. Electricity sparked and rippled around the blade, power building. His cape whipped as if caught in the wind and as lighting arced out of the blade his eyes glowed white – the lighting struck the cyclops –

– And the world exploded around them.

The force of it threw Wally off his feet, his vision whiting out. The kaboom echoed all around him and for a moment he lay stunned, blinking away spots.

He got unsteadily to his feet. Dust was settling around them like snow. The last chunks of the cyclops’s broken body were falling to the ground. Shazam was pointing the still-sparking axe at the spot where it had been standing, his eyes brilliant white. He stood motionless; his face was hard and Wally had never seen him look less human.

He turned the axe on Captain Cook.

The little man was on his back in the rubble, his hands held up as if in surrender. As Wally stepped closer he saw that there were tears on his face. “Please,” he was saying. “Please – I’m sorry, please don’t kill me –”

The white fire faded from Shazam’s eyes, and Wally breathed out. Shazam adjusted his grip, but didn’t lower the axe.

Footsteps crunched on the rubble outside. A woman peered into the circus tent, pale and wide-eyed. Two kids appeared at her ankles, gazing up at Shazam in awe.

Shazam turned to her and said, with his most friendly and approachable smile, “Hello, ma’am! Would you mind calling the police?”

She nodding, already reaching for her phone; and Captain Cook slumped, defeated, into the rubble.

The police were cuffing the ol’ Captain as he hung up his communicator. Shazam wandered over, idly swinging the axe.

“You good?” said Wally, nodding at his chest.

“Huh?” Shazam glanced down at himself. “Oh – yeah.” He touched the scorched stripe on his suit. “That smarted. How about you?”

“Mostly better,” Wally said. His ribs still kind of ached.

“Cool,” said Shazam. “So you gonna tell me what you were doing in here?”

“Something stupid.” Wally stretched out his back. “I spoke to the Bat.”

“Oh, yeah? Is he mad?”

“He was pretty terse with me,” said Wally. “But we got the axe, so he can’t get that mad at us.”

Shazam laughed, idly swinging the axe back and forth, testing the feel of it. “Hey, you know, I like this thing,” he remarked. “I like the way it handles.”

Uh-huh, Wally thought. “Alright,” he said, holding out his hands. “Give it.”

“Hm?”

“I’m in charge here,” said Wally. “I’m taking the axe. Hand it over.”

Shazam looked at the axe. “You sure?”

“Yeah –”

“It’s pretty heavy.”

“Just give it,” said Wally.

“If you’re sure.” Shazam held it out, his eyes big and innocent in a way that Wally really ought to have been more suspicious of. In his defence, it had been a long day.

He grabbed the axe – and when Shazam let go it dropped to the floor, wrenching his arm almost out of its goddamn socket and coming about half an inch away from breaking all his toes. “Motherfucker!” he exclaimed.

“Flash,” Shazam laughed. “Language.”

“Oh, you piece of shit kid.” Wally rubbed his arm. “I hate you so much.”

Shazam laughed harder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lifting the axe he swung it onto his shoulder as if it was weightless. Goddamn, Wally hated his teammates and their idiot super strength. He hated all of them.

“We done here?” said Shazam.

Wally heaved a sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go face the music.”

“What part of do not engage did you two not understand?”

“Okay,” said Wally, holding up his hands, “okay, look –”

“So we went a little off mission,” said Shazam, the axe still slung over his shoulder. “These things happen.”

“It was my fault, Bats.”

“The important thing is that we –” Shazam turned to him, his mouth falling open. “Hey, that’s right! It was your fault!” Jerking a thumb at Wally he said to the Batman, “It was his fault.”

“Yeah, okay, you don’t have to rub it in,” said Wally.

“Sorry,” said Shazam, contrite. “I’m just kind of surprised it wasn’t my fault.”

“I went off mission,” said Wally. “Shazam bailed me out. I’m sorry.”

The Batman said, “Hm.”

“Is that thing – safe now?” said Vic, eying the axe.

Shazam hefted it. “I think so?” he said. “Yeah – I’m pretty sure I turned it off.”

“You’re pretty sure?” said Vic.

“Hey, give me a break,” said Shazam. “I’m new to the whole magic thing as well, you know.”

“It was flashing a bunch earlier,” Wally pointed out. “It’s stopped now.”

“It’s highly dangerous,” said the Batman. “We need to be sure it’s inert.”

“It’s pretty sweet is what it is,” said Shazam, giving it a swing. “Maybe I’ll keep it.”

“You –” The Bat’s shoulders slumped, and uncharacteristically gently he said, “You’re not keeping the axe, son.”

“Aw, Batman,” Shazam whined, “you never let me do anything fun.”

The Batman held out his hand.

Shazam looked at the axe. “Okay, I promise I’m not gonna try and keep it,” he said, “but it’s real heavy and I don’t think you’d be able to lift it. Ask Wally.”

“Oh, it’s real heavy,” said Wally.

The Batman sighed. “Give it to Cyborg.”

“Sure – okay,” said Shazam, handing it over.

“Man,” said Vic, staggering a little under the sudden weight. “That is heavy.” He looked to the Batman. “Are we gonna give it back to the museum?”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” said the Bat. “Now that we know how dangerous it is we need to make sure it’s properly contained.”

Yeah. Wally wasn’t wild about not giving it back to the museum, but he had to admit making sure it didn’t go haywire and start generating monsters again might be a little above the curators’ paygrade.

“Oh, hey!” said Shazam. “I actually might be able to help with that.”

Captain Cook’s Cwazy World of Attractions was starting to grow on him.

He’d found a bench in a quiet spot overlooking the park, the elderly big wheel to his right, the sad-looking rollercoaster up ahead, and there he sat, eating his oily popcorn, watching emergency services mill around the circus tent.

All in all, he thought, it’d been a pretty good day.

“Hey,” said the kid, leaning on the back of the bench.

Wally started. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Sneaking up on me again?”

“Sorry,” said the kid. He boosted himself over the bench, settling in next to Wally. He was holding two cans and he held one out. “I got you a soda.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Wally. He opened it up, juggling his popcorn.

The day was wearing on. The park would be closing soon. He wondered if it would open again; probably not.

He heaved a sigh. “You did good work today.”

“Thanks,” said the kid. “You too.”

“Aw, let’s face it,” said Wally. “You did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Well – yeah,” said the kid.

Wally snorted into his soda. “Axe all squared away?” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“Cool,” said Wally. “Hey, am I ever gonna get to see the Rock?”

“The Rock of Eternity?” said the kid. “Maybe. If you’re good.”

Wally laughed.

His thoughts strayed once again to what he’d seen in the circus tent.

In Chicago, when he’d first met the kid, it had been as if a mask had fallen away; like they’d peeled back Shazam’s outer layer and found out what was hiding beneath. In the circus tent, when he’d seen ease with which Shazam handled the axe – the raw power he’d been able draw on – the white fire in his eyes – it had been as if the same thing had happened, but in the other direction. For a few short moments there had been nothing human in those eyes.

He looked at the kid. His attention had strayed to the rollercoaster, watching an almost-empty car chug up to the first drop. The late afternoon breeze was picking at his hair. He looked real young. Real normal. Entirely unlike Shazam.

Wally sipped his soda. “You gonna head home soon?” he said. “They must be missing you by now.”

The kid looked at his knees. “Yeah.”

“I was serious about the note, you know,” said Wally.

“It’ll be fine,” said the kid. “I’ll talk to them.”

“You think they’ll be okay with it?”

The kid shrugged. “Probably not.”

He’d come out because he’d found the axe, Wally reflected. He’d come out cause for better or for worse he’d got wrapped up in the mission and he was the only one who could finish it. He’d come out to deal with a loose end.

Maybe he’d come out for the last time. Wally felt a pang in his chest, at the idea that this might be their last mission together. A couple of months ago – when the truth had first come out – he might have been okay with that. He’d have to be okay with it, if it was how things shook out.

He hoped things didn’t shake out that way.

“Hey – listen,” he said, setting down his popcorn and reaching into his jacket. “I’m glad you stuck around. I wanted to give you something.”

“Yeah?”

He groped in his pocket and handed over a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

The kid stared at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s my phone number,” said Wally.

“What,” said the kid, pulling a face, “your actual one?”

“Yeah,” said Wally. “It’s my cell number. I just –” Shit. Okay. He should have planned out what he was going to say. “If you ever – need anything, or if you just want to talk – you can talk to me, okay?”

The kid was holding out his phone number like he didn’t know what to do with it. “You know I’m fourteen, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I don’t call people on the phone?” said the kid.

“You – I do also know how to text, alright?” said Wally. “I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a grandpa.”

“Sure,” said the kid dubiously. But to Wally’s relief he took out his phone and began to key the number in. His eyes on the screen he said, “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Things are – good, right now?” He said it like he wasn’t sure how to put something as simple as that short statement into words. Like he couldn’t quite believe it was true. Looking at Wally properly he added, “Things are pretty good.”

“I’m glad.” Wally sipped soda. “You think things are gonna stay good?”

“Yeah.” The kid nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” said Wally.

He settled back on the bench. There were a lot more questions he wanted to ask, like were things not good for you before. Like how’d you end up where you are now – what happened to you. Like has anyone ever hurt you, and if so where can I find them.

He shouldn’t pry. “Hell of a day, huh?”

“Yeah,” said the kid. “Definitely like. Top twenty weirdest days since I’ve been doing this.”

“Hmm, I’d say top fifty,” said Wally. “But I’ve been doing this longer than you so y’know. It balances out.”

The kid laughed.

Wally’s gaze wandered out over the park; the emergency vehicles were driving away. The rollercoaster car was completing a circuit. There was only a handful of people still kicking around the park. He wondered what they’d do with the animals in the petting zoo.

He breathed out. “You know, kid –”

The kid said, “Billy.”

“Huh?” Wally looked at him.

He was toying with his soda can, his eyes big and earnest. “My name’s Billy.”

“Billy,” Wally echoed, a smile spreading across his face. He proffered his soda can. “Hi, Billy. Good to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too,” said Billy, laughing a little. He tapped their cans together. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” said Wally. Another car was chugging up the rollercoaster. He finished his thought. “Today went pretty well.”

“Could have gone a lot worse,” Billy said. Wally hmmed in agreement.

Billy shuffled a little closer on the bench. “Hey,” he said, nudging him. “Are we good?”

Wally looked him in the eye. He was so young – and so serious – it made his chest ache. He was painfully earnest; and for the first time, Wally thought he caught a glimpse of Shazam, in his expression.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. We’re good.”