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1)
Billy ducked underneath the crates, trying to steady his breathing out. His heart thundered in his chest, his lungs working overtime to get air. He froze when he heard the footsteps.
He wasn’t supposed to be in Gotham. Truth be told, Billy wasn’t sure how he had gotten to Gotham anyway. But after the League’s meeting, after being ambushed and finishing a surprise fight from random aliens, after being injured and having his head spin from everything that had gone on, Billy figured he had an excuse as to why he couldn’t remember how he had gotten to Gotham.
“C’mon kid- I know ya got magic in ya! I promise, I only want the magic!”
Captain Marvel was a savior of thousands, protected the innocent, and was strong and impenetrable.
Billy Batson was a weak homeless kid who couldn’t do crap.
He squeezed the crates tightly and squinched his eyes shut. Don’t look over here, don’t look over here, don’t look over here-. He chanted.
The box above him moved.
Billy threw himself back, away from the hand that reached for his neck. He snarled at the stupid man who reeked of alcohol and marijuna. Billy scratched at the hands above him and snapped a kick out at the man’s knee, connecting with something solid. Adrenaline burned in his system.
Run!
Billy lunged for an opening to the side of the boxes and smashed into some of the crates in the process. They tumbled to the ground with a crash. The man above Billy howled a curse while Billy was desperately trying to blink away the sudden pain and blood from his eyes. He scrambled on his hands and knees, icky goo squelching between his fingers.
A hand closed over the scruff of Billy’s shirt, tossing him back into the wall. Billy sucked in a sharp breath as he lost all the breath in his lungs. Another hand pinned his neck and cut off his air flow. Billy squeaked, trying his best to push the word ‘Shazam’ out.
”You brat!” The man snarled. “Yer gonna get the beatin’ of yer life!”
Black spots started to appear on the edge’s of Billy’s vision. He clawed at the hand at his throat, but the pressure remained unrelenting. He could feel his heartbeat pounding, almost like it was trying to escape his rib cage. Tears started to escape his eyes. Billy started to panic, even as his movements grew weaker.
The hand that wasn’t at his throat, pressed something to the side of Billy’s neck. White hot pain seared up the side then disappeared.
A scream sounded right next to Billy’s ear, and then the hand was gone. Billy dropped to the ground, collapsing to his hands and knees, sucking in greedy breaths. Oh sweet, sweet air. Why had you disappeared?
”Now what have I said about hurting kids, hmm?”
Billy finally looked up at the sound of the calm mechanical voice. His eyes widened at the gleaming red helmet, at the twin holsters, at the dark leather jacket. The Red Hood. Even Billy had heard rumors of him from Fawcett. Murderous, appearing on the drug scene with a bag of heads and loud explosions. A mob war started within a night between Black Mask and Red Hood, Penguin and the Falcones stepping back as they waited to see who the victor was. The other Rogues waited with baited breathes to see who would end up taking their fellow Rogue’s place: the old or the new.
With a vicious uppercut, Red Hood had the man bending over and gripping his throat with wheezing breaths. The crime lord slammed the old man into the wall, pushing him up to where his feet were dangling. The man wheezed around the Red Hood’s unrelenting grip, face slowly turning blue.
”I should put a bullet in your forehead right now.” The Red Hood growled. “But I’m feeling merciful.”
He released the man, his body crumpling to the floor in an ungainly heap. “Scram before I take it back.”
With shuddering, wheezing breaths the man scrambled to his feet and stumbled to the mouth of the alley. He disappeared quickly, leaving Billy alone with Red Hood.
Billy looked up at the Red Hood and swallowed painfully, his bruised throat resisting the motion. The Red Hood was large, larger than life. He stood taller than even Batman, Billy was sure. He rivaled Superman in broadness and Wonder Woman in lethalness. Billy had heard enough stories to know that you didn’t mess with the Red Hood. And now the Red Hood dropping down on a homeless orphan, ‘protecting’ him? Billy really didn’t think anyone had been missing that piece of bread he had taken earlier-
Good bye, world. It was wonderful knowing you while it lasted.
”Hey kid-.”
Billy shuddered back, tears still leaking from his eyes and panic still shaking his body. He rasped, “I-“ and oh mierda did that hurt, “I didn’t mean too.”
The Red Hood crouched down. He was obviously trying to make himself smaller and was failing miserably at it. “Hey, hey, kiddo. Let’s not talk on that throat, yeah?”
“What… what you gonna do to me?”
”Do?” Even through the helmet, Billy could hear the confusion. “I’m not gonna do anything to you, chico. I just want to know if you’re okay, and if that man did anything to you.”
Billy shook his head no slowly. Did the man really think he was gonna fall for that trick? Yeah, right. Adults never tried helping out kids, especially homeless kids. He knew from experience. “He didn’t do anything.”
The helmet made an odd crackling sound as if the Red Hood had laughed or… snorted? “Your throat is giving you away. Do you need some water?”
”No.” Cielos, please. “I’m fine.”
Red Hood made another crackly noise, before offering a hand to Billy. “I can take you to a doctor that’ll take a look at that?”
”No, it’s not that bad.” Sell me to a drug ring or trafficking ring- I know all the tricks in the book.
”Alright. Stay out of trouble, chico.”
The Red Hood stood up. With a schwip-clang! the Red Hood disappeared into the night, leaving Billy alone. The boy allowed himself one sob before standing up with the help of the wall. He touched his throat gently, feeling the raw skin twinge at the touch. He scrubbed the tears from his eyes and started forward, out of the alley and away from here. No point in moping. He had to get home.
Billy had already forgotten the something that the man had placed on his neck.
2)
Billy slunk throw the shadows, hands stuffed into his hoodie’s pockets. He eyed the streets, trying to make sure he watched out for any creeps. In Gotham you could never be to careful.
After the incident with the Red Hood five days ago, Billy had been forced to stay in Gotham. His throat was bruised, dark purpling hand prints stretching across the tender skin. His throat was so sore and tender that he couldn’t even speak, couldn’t even disappear into Shazam’s disguise. Who knows how many League meetings Billy had missed at this point?
Billy paused in the mouth of an alley. Settled against the wall next to a dumpster was the prettiest bike that Billy had ever seen. It was streamlined and a beautiful black with red accents. Billy backed away from the bike. No stealing. He scolded himself. Especially a bike as nice as that. Then his stomach growled, his arms and legs quivered. He needed food, badly. He needed money.
The boy eyed the bike once again, then slowly started forward. He traced every line connecting the bike. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as his fingers finally touched the smooth, cool metal. He moved to the engine, fingering the delicate wires before finally starting to work on hot wiring this bike. He didn’t even notice his hood dropping down, or the fact that someone had silently dropped to the ground behind him, to focused on the bike was he.
”Whatcha doin’, chico?”
Billy whirled around, stumbling back into the bike and then to the wall, eyes wide. He almost stopped breathing when he realized that it was the Red-freaking-Hood.
”Nothin’…?” Billy’s voice was a mere whisper, and even that ached to push out. He needed to get out of here-
The Red Hood shrugged off the wall, slowly starting toward Billy and the bike, keeping his hands out. “I dunno… looked like you were messin’ with my bike.”
Billy could feel the blood drain from his face as he stared at the bike and then at Red Hood. He pointed at the bike and then the Red Hood and… He didn’t even want to think about this anymore.
Red Hood tilted his head. “Your throat still sore?”
Billy shrugged.
With a smooth motion, Red Hood reached up to his helmet. Billy tensed, watching the telegraphed movements with a sharp gaze. He didn’t know if the Red Hood would hurt him, but he could literally have anything attached to his helmet. Instead, Red Hood just slowed his movements down a bit and put his hand to the helmet. With a few movements of his fingers, the helmet hissed as if air was releasing and Red Hood pulled the blood red helmet away.
The man beneath the helmet wasn’t quite what Billy was expecting. He was thinking cruel, scars lining his whole face and eyes that burned. Honestly, what he got was a lot less terrifying. A red domino mask covered the man’s eyes and eyebrows, and a bit of his nose. Even so, scars still lined various parts of his face. Billy winced at the obvious branding on the man’s cheek- it looked like a ‘j.’ His nose had been broken multiple times in the past; it crooked to the right ever so slightly. He had dark curly hair that looked black, with a prominent white streak in the middle.
So not quite looking like a murderer.
”You good, chico?”
And then Billy saw it. Now that Red Hood had revealed himself, he could see the magic leaving the man in front of him in waves. The roaring, burning of some sort of ancient magic; poisonous, slithering green magic that Billy didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole; and the dark, comforting magic of some ancient being that Red Hood had connected himself to, like Billy had.
He couldn’t quite help the little, scratchy, “Oh,” that left him.
”Chico?”
Billy really shouldn’t trust this man, especially with that eldritch thingy that had left their mark on him.
He nodded slowly.
With carefully movements, Red Hood came closer to him, telegraphing all of his movements. “Can I see your neck?”
No- no you may not. But despite Billy’s thoughts he knew there really wasn’t much stopping the man from doing what he wanted. So, Billy leaned back, showing off his neck and the painful bruising. Red Hood nodded as if he expected something like that. He backed up, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.
”Do you have somewhere to go?”
Billy shrugged.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Red Hood sighed and stepped toward the bike. Billy flinched, watching him carefully. Red Hood didn’t react, although he slowed down his movements. He moved toward the bike, digging into bag that was strapped onto the back of his bike which Billy had noticed and promptly ignored. Red Hood held out a small round object, a stylized red bat on the front dripping blood.
”Call me if you get into trouble, chico.”
Billy slowly took the offered button, clutching it tightly. Red Hood climbed onto the motorcycle, pulling his helmet back onto his head and turning on the engine. With a beautiful purr, the engine roared to life. Red Hood waved to Billy before revving and zipping out of the alley.
3)
Billy sat on the bench, staring up at the sign that signified a bus stop. He had visited this bus stop every day for a week, just waiting to see if there were any possible ways he could try boarding. The first time Billy had tried, the driver had grabbed him by the hood of his sweatshirt and thrown him out. The second time Billy had tried, well… let’s just say there were a few new bruises. Now, Billy was just trying to save up money to either get the ticket or try to regain his voice back so he could say the word ‘Shazam’ without feeling like swallowing glass.
”You alright?”
Billy startled out of his daydreaming, staring up at the kind stranger with wide eyes. Tan skin, dark teal eyes that looked kind, large broad shoulders, and- oh heck no- black curly hair with a prominent white streak in the front. And if that didn’t give it away, then the waves of magic pounding into Billy’s skull would have. Gosh, Billy understood wanting to release your magical aura when in evil crime lord mode, but in civilian persona? Why the heck didn’t he shield himself?
Not wanting to say anything, Billy just pointed at himself.
”Yeah, you, chico. You seem to be lost. You alright?”
Billy shifted and then shrugged. No, no he was not alright. What kid on the street was alright?
The man didn’t say anything, instead giving an understanding nod. “Are you trying to go somewhere?”
Yes I am and I am not telling you that. Billy shrugged again.
The man gave a noncommittal hum before shoving his hands back into his pockets. “I know somewhere you can go to spend the night if you’d like? I know a lotta street kids there.”
Billy raised an eyebrow. Standing up, he shoved his hands into his threadbare red hoodie before walking away, head ducked down low. Cielos, the nerve of some people, especially nosy crime lords-
The man- thank his lucky stars- didn’t follow.
4)
Billy really hadn’t meant to stay in Gotham for almost two weeks, nor had he much of a choice in the matter. He still didn’t know how he ended up here (at this point his theories were starting to range to ‘evil sentient ghosts kidnapping him and bringing him here for some inexplicable reason’-), and, to make matters worse, no matter what he did, he couldn’t leave. Something, or someone was keeping Billy here, and the boy was determined to find out who.
That all came after Billy found some shelter from the torrential rains.
The rain had made it’s appearance quickly after Billy had finally gathered all of his patience and decided to make the trek to Fawcett. He had muttered the whole afternoon about plans and ways and contingencies, packing up all the stuff he had managed to collect (a ratty old back and a sweatshirt). His plans were ruined when he felt the first drip drop on his cheek. Now dark was falling, and Billy’s mood was steadily following with the daylight.
”Hey!”
Billy whirled around toward the sound of the voice. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the lanky kid a few feet away from him, casually leaning up against the brick wall. He looked older, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with shaggy brown hair and a scar running down the side of his neck.
”Whatcha doin’ out in this weather?” The boy drawled, Gotham accent heavy on his tongue.
Billy swallowed and shrugged. Even after two weeks- and most injuries Billy sustained healed up within a week if not sooner- Billy’s throat was still aching and bruised and had ugly purple blotches all of it.
The boy’s eyes locked onto Billy’s throat, but he didn’t comment on it. “C’mon, shortstack. I gotta place where all the Alley kids hang out. It’s drier.”
Billy frowned. Generally a lot of teenagers didn’t do leg work for the gangs or rings, but Billy wouldn’t put it past the guy before him.
”We got food.”
Billy sighed knowing they had him. He hadn’t eaten a solid meal in two days in preparation for his hike- he wasn’t going to last much longer without something to eat though. And this way he’ll still have plenty of food to make the trip, and he won’t be starving.
Billy slowly nodded. The kid in front of him shot Billy a slightly feral grin before ducking out into the rain and dashing toward a large warehouse fifty yards to the right. Billy followed. He hunched his shoulders as the rain pitter-pattered against his head and clothes.
The boy ducked into the warehouse, Billy following a second later. As Billy shook the water out of his eyes and hair, he glanced at everything around the two. They were in a small room that looked more like an entrance than anything. With no words, the older boy started forward and into a small door off to the left. Billy went in a little more slowly. Once he entered, his eyes widened as he took in the sight’s around them. At least twenty kids, ranging in ages from late teens all the way down to six year olds, sprawled across the interior of the warehouse. It was nicer than Billy was expecting too- no leaks, actual glass windows, nice warm air. The whole building was filled with gleeful chatter as some of the kids talked, others played, and yet others slept.
The boy tossed Billy a granola bar, munching on his own as he plopped into a beanbag chair. Billy took his own seat carefully, still eyeing everything.
”Oi, don’t be shy, kid! The whole place’s funded by Red Hood! We ain’t got no one to hurt us!”
Billy snapped his head over to the boy. The Red Hood?? Seriously universe!! Why??
The boy leaned forward with a grin, settling his hands on his knees. All of the other kids gathered around, their chittering going silent. “Ya ‘eard of ‘im then?”
Billy nodded reluctantly.
”Good.” The boy nodded as if it was his personal mission to do… something. “Everyone needs ta ‘ear of the Red Hood.”
Despite is instincts screaming at him, Billy leaned forward and tilted his head.
The kid grinned again and cleared his throat, making the scar on his neck bob with the motion. “I was still ’ere when Red Hood made a splash on the streets- I was only seven er eight at the time. The streets weren’t good, then.”
”Move on with the story, Maks!” A younger girl cried, bouncing in her seat.
The boy obliged. “I was makin’ a drug deal run. ‘S the only way I could bring in enough dough ta get food in my mouth, if ya know what I mean. An’ I remember watchin’ the deal go south, watchin’ the two gangs I was runnin’ fer gettin’ inta a fight. An’ that’s when it happened.”
The boy jumped up from his seat, spinning around in a circle. He waved his arms emphatically as he spoke. “Red Hood smashed inta the warehouse, guns blazin’ an’ like ‘e ‘ad the whole a’Gotham on ‘is ‘eels! He did bang, bang, bang! this aways an’ bang, bang, bang! thattaways!”
”What happened next, what happened next?!” The little girl squealed with delight, her little body quivering with excitement, her brown curls bouncing with the movement.All the other kids, and even Billy he grudgingly admitted, started to talk as they wanted to hear the rest of the story.
”Well, ya see, durin’ the fight, I tried ta wiggle my way outta there. I went straight fer the doorway when, as the last of the sounds went away, I felt this pain on my side!” He dramatically clutched his neck, right where the scar was. “Someone ‘ad fired a gun an’ ‘it me! I remember droppin’ to the ground, knowin’ that I was probably gonna die from that there scratch on the streets.”
Before the kid could finish his story, a mechanized voice picked up the narrative. “He shoulda waited for me to finish.”
Billy flinched even as all the kids whirled around, the subject of their story standing in the doorway. Bags hung off his hands as he slowly entered the room. Momentarily distracted, the kids- all twenty of them minus Billy- rushed over to Red Hood and started pestering and chattering to him. The boy that had led Billy here just grinned and watched the others with his arms crossed over his chest.
Some of the older girls took the bags from Red Hood’s hands, stashing them away for later. Food, Billy was assuming. Red Hood himself swung up the little girl with the brown curls onto his hip, and another wrapped their thin arms around his neck and just dangled. Billy could still feel the magic, albeit more muted. His eyebrows furrowed as he felt it. It was so much more gentler than the last time he had seen it.
After a few minutes of everyone running around, Red Hood wrangled them back to the center. He greeted the kid that had stuck with Billy with a ruffle of his hair and a, “Doin’ good on your grades, chico?” The boy responded positively before everyone settled back into the beanbag chairs.
The boy grinned as he continued his story once again. “Well. I woke up in the hospital, with a big scar on ma neck, an’ all of ma bills paid fer. When I got released, I tracked down the Red Hood an’ thanked him fer helpin’ me, but I didn’t need it. I could take care of myself. Well, he told me that he knew that- if I had lived on the street fer any length a’ time he knew I could take care a’myself. But he told me that I didn’t have ta do it alone. That not every kid needed ta struggle through life without someone.”
Billy felt something pang in chest. He glanced over at the Red Hood- he couldn’t see his face, but Billy knew that, somehow, the Red Hood was looking at him.
5)
Billy stared at the pancake house across the way from where he was on the rooftop, belly gurgling from the delicious smell of food. He had stayed with the gang of Red Hood’s kids- they all called him Papa Hood but Billy couldn’t bring himself to- for a few days before striking it out on his own once again. Billy had staked out this pancake joint a few times before. They always dumped food into the dumpsters at eleven. It was almost ten thirty, and Billy knew- knew he had no choice really- that he could wait for thirty more minutes.
”Hey, chico.”
Billy jumped. He whirled around, staring at the familiar red hood. He huffed, turning back to look at the pancake joint. He alternated between watching that and the tall clock tower that somehow had been built in the middle of Crime Alley. Red Hood settled beside him, the click-hiss of his helmet as he released the clasps. The magic reached, once again, out to Billy. This time it didn’t seem terrifying- not even the black eldritch magic scared him. It almost… comforted.
”You waiting for food?”
Billy huffed.
Red Hood hummed. “This used to be one of my own haunts. They had the best whipped cream I had ever tasted.”
Billy raised an eyebrow at the man. He had been a street kid?
”Your throat still hurting?”
He nodded slowly, absentmindedly fingering the almost black bruises. They hadn’t even faded the slightest bit. Billy had checked.
It was silent for a few minutes, the cool wind wrapping around the two of them. Billy glanced at the clock once more and rolled his eyes as he noticed that only five minutes had passed since he had last checked it.
”Would you like some? Pancakes, I mean.”
Billy hesitated, glancing back at Red Hood. The man was watching him, but he kept a good distance, as if he would respect every decision that Billy would make. Billy glanced back at the pancake diner- it had been months since he had had a good meal… and if it was free…
He shrugged, glancing up at the Red Hood shyly.
The Red Hood smiled, before standing up and plunking the hood back onto his head. “Want a ride down?”
Billy took the offered hand and stood up, before shrugging again. He had made it this far and Red Hood hadn’t killed him yet- what’s one more thing?
Red Hood unlatched his grappling gun and aimed it at the opposite building. When he hit the release, it zoomed out and clung against the brick wall, but ultimately stuck there. The crime lord turned to Billy before motioning to him. Billy inched forward, taking the offered hand once again and gripping it tightly as he neared the edge of the roof. He wasn’t- couldn’t- Shazam right now, so he wasn’t overly keen on going close to the edge. But Red Hood kept a solid, comforting grip on Billy’s hand, pulling him closer to him. He wrapped an arm around Billy’s back and tucked him close to his chest.
”Here we go.” He murmured.
Red Hood stepped off the ledge, and Billy had to keep in his shriek of fear. He screwed his eyes tightly shut and, after a moment, could feel the cool cement below his feet. Billy opened his eyes, staring at the pancake house right in front of him. He slowly let go of the Red Hood.
”Thanks.” He whispered, braving through the pain of his ruined voice.
Red Hood winced. “Crap, chico, your voice doesn’t sound any better.”
Billy shrugged and started for the door.
Inside was cozy and warm, a proper mom and pop joint. Billy couldn’t remember the last time that he had been to a restaurant like this. The walls were a cheery yellow, lights lining the ceiling to not make the place look dark. A low bar ran alongside the north end of the restaurant, away from the door. Bright red stool seats sat in front of it, and the booths that lined all the other walls followed the same color scheme. A few chairs and tables filled up the middle of the floor. A few customers lined the floor, but not as many as Billy had thought there would be.
”You boys just find a seat!”
A cheery voice sang. A woman waved from her place up by the bar. She refocused her attention back on the man in front of the cash register.
Red Hood started for a corner booth, one tucked away. He motioned for Billy to sit down, which he did, before the crime lord followed suit. he thunked his helmet on the table, smiling at Billy briefly before focusing his attention on the nearing waitress.
”Hey y’all. What can I get ya today?”
Red Hood smiled. “Just give me today’s special and a cup of coffee, Renee.”
The woman looked expectantly at Billy. Billy blushed as he focused on the menu, tapping out the first thing that looked good to him.
”Today’s special and a whipped cream delight coming up!” She responded cheerily before bustling to another table.
Red Hood focused on Billy, slouching back down in the seat and projecting utter confidence and relaxation. As much as Billy would like to, he couldn’t mimic the man’s movements.
”You doing okay? No one’s been bothering you?”
Billy nodded, making a so-so gesture. He pointed to his neck, and the still vibrant bruising and shrugged.
”Yeah, that’s still not healing, huh? Would you be wiling to see a doctor for that?”
Billy hesitated for a moment. All the kids had given him glowing reports of Red Hood, and how he didn’t hurt kids or let anyone else hurt kids. How he got them with good families if they wanted them, or needed them like the younger kids did. And no more did Red Hood’s magic stink of something foul. Rather, it soothed Billy and welcomed him, comforted him.
Protected him.
Billy nodded slowly.
Red Hood smiled, even as their meal came out, steaming hot and smelling amazing. Billy gave a small, tentative smile back.
1)
Billy smiled a bit at Maks, even as the boy smiled his greatly unhinged and feral smile once again. Maks, the boy that had originally led Billy to the Red Hood’s kid hangout, became Billy’s friend as they traveled the streets. After a little over a month of navigating Gotham, Billy had to say that he felt more at home in this city than he ever had in Fawcett. (Which he felt no small amount of guilt about).
Maks whistled, a bright and cheery sound, as he sauntered down the streets in the fading light, one of the most confident street kids Billy had ever known. Maks was confident- he had the Red Hood’s backing, he had already finished his GED (which no street kid ever did-), and he was the proud leader of the biggest ‘gang’ out there. Lulu, the little girl with bouncing brown curls and sparkling green eyes, had secretively informed Billy a day earlier that they had named themselves Hood’s Kids.
Billy jogged to catch up with Maks. His throat still hurt (at this point, Billy was pretty sure that he would never speak again-) and he was still a dirty street kid at the end of the day, but he had friends, he finally had a full belly, he had new clothes, and he had someone watching out for him. That was more than Fawcett had ever done for him.
”So, Billy,” (Billy had told everyone- even Red Hood- his name a week ago after an impromptu visit to a pancake parlor-), “what do ya think abou’ headin’ over to Crowley’s an’ gettin’ ice cream fer all the little rascals back at the den?”
Billy nodded enthusiastically, a grin splitting his face. He knew that Angus, a little Scottish boy with bright, fluffy, red hair and expressive brown eyes, had been begging Maks for ice cream for days now.
”Good!” Maks said cheerily.
As they walked down the street, Maks humming a tune next to him, Billy scanned everything around them with a critical eye (Maks might be awesome but he wasn’t observant). When they turned down a small alley, the shortcut to Crowleys, a shiver went up Billy’s spine. He froze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Maks made it a few feet before he noticed that Billy wasn’t next to him. He turned around with a frown. “Billy-?”
Someone crashed into Billy’s back, ripping a strangled scream from his throat. Maks lunged forward as Billy fell to the ground.
”Get outta ‘ere!” Maks shouted, grappling with the figure that had knocked Billy down. “Get Hood!”
Billy stumbled to his feet, mud and other unnameable things smeared all of his clothes. Get Hood, get Hood, get Hood- the panic button! Billy dug through his clothing, finally yanking and pressing firmly down on the panic button that always went everywhere with him.
”Get the kid!”
Billy went down as something heavy and painful slammed into him. He fell back down with a gasp, spinning around and finding himself face to face with an angry, angry man. An angry, angry familiar man.
Billy scrambled backward, the bruises on his neck throbbing with remembrance. He tried forcing his mouth to move, to utter the word ‘Shazam’, but the familiar well of magic did not come. He choked back a sob and pushed backward. Why him?
The man laughed cruelly. “Can’t access yer magic can ya? Serves ya right- all ya magic tieres just the same, always reaching for yer magic. Tha’ magic patch must be doing wonders if it’s even blocking yer magic!”
The man lunged forward, ripping Billy up from the ground and against a brick wall, just like that night a month ago. He heard a muffled “Billy!” From somewhere, but his ears rang and his eyes dropped tears. He couldn’t breathe-. Something touched his chest, something hot, something burning, and Billy just wanted it to stop, please make it stop-. He could feel the magic being ripped from his soul-.
Something shoved slammed into the thing holding Billy still. The white hot pain disappeared as aggressive, angry, furious swirled all around them in a burning inferno. Screams appeared in Billy’s muffled hearing (he couldn’t breathe). Billy yanked on that magic, wanting to feel the protective and safe feelings it gave him once again.
”Billy!”
The shout snapped him out of the daze, his blurry vision focusing on Maks descending on him.
”Oh crap, Billy! Are you okay?!”
Billy shook his head, still feeling the leftover whatever-that-was throb deep into his soul. “What-,”
”Billy!”
Soft, tender magic wrapped around Billy and he almost sobbed in relief. Red Hood. He had made it on time. A hand touched Billy’s chin and lifted his head head up into the white domino eyes of Red Hood. He frowned, studying Billy’s face. “You okay-,”
Billy threw himself forward into Red Hood’s arms. Red Hood automatically curled his arms around Billy’s smaller form, hugging him tightly. Safe. Never, ever since Billy can remember, was safe something he remembered feeling. But now- now, with Red Hood near him, Maks unharmed, protective magic swirling around him- Billy finally felt safe.