The Fall of Billy Batson
Sometime later, he rose and moved to the window and jerked it open.
He needed air.
He needed to fly.
He screamed the name.
"SHAZAM!"
And then he was flying, high and away.
Even as he did so, inside him, a struggle was going on. Wisdom of Solomon against heartbreak and sorrow and too much darkness. His mind was chaotic as he soared higher and higher up, and over the lake. He struggled, even as he cried, his heart broken and his mind reeling.
The conflict activated a defense mechanism. Inside him, deep, he had planted the codes to, if he ever became dangerous, or unbalanced, deny him the powers of Captain Marvel. And when the conflict and chaos in his mind reached the near deadly point, when he paused in mid-air and threw up again, over the lake, blood and nothing else... then it activated... and suddenly, two-hundred feet up, Billy Batson was standing in mid-air...
...and then he was falling. His senses reeling, his mind completely chaotic, his heart hammering, he fell, and then he plunged into the lake. His impact sounded like a hammer against concrete and he felt things break, pain shooting into him further.
And he sank, into the waters, deep and dark...
...somewhere inside him, something was screaming. somewhere inside him, something was telling him he had to rise, had to try, had to fight. But he was tired of fighting, and tired of trying, tired of being the better man, tired of being a good guy and losing everything, over and over.
He despaired and sank further.
That small part of him, the one that wanted to live, the one that believed still, flung pictures at him; his friends, Sara and Hank. His sister, Rachel and blood-sister, Mary. His cousin Freddy, and others who cared, and he screamed again, in denial, and the darkness boiled around him. and the water sucked him down...
And somewhere inside him, at the base of him, at the deepest lowest point, one small part of him said, simply... no.
I will not die...
I will not fall...
I will not let myself end this way...
...and suddenly, Billy's eyes open, even as he settled to the bottom of the lake. And with the breath inside him, the little left, he spoke a word, his hands waving in a small line and a symbol.
On the surface, all was quiet, even the bubbles had stopped... and then they started again and the area where he had hit seemed to roil and bubble and boil... and out of the water, Billy Batson rose.
With a limp, he slowly walked across the surface of the water to the shore and collapsed there. He looked a mess, his clothing torn and battered, his whole body soaked, his face smeared with blood and looking like something a cat had dragged in.
It was a long time before he stopped shuddering, stopped moaning. But he slowly pried himself up, and rose and began to stagger towards the Bar, slow movements, limping, but moving...
He needed air.
He needed to fly.
He screamed the name.
"SHAZAM!"
And then he was flying, high and away.
Even as he did so, inside him, a struggle was going on. Wisdom of Solomon against heartbreak and sorrow and too much darkness. His mind was chaotic as he soared higher and higher up, and over the lake. He struggled, even as he cried, his heart broken and his mind reeling.
The conflict activated a defense mechanism. Inside him, deep, he had planted the codes to, if he ever became dangerous, or unbalanced, deny him the powers of Captain Marvel. And when the conflict and chaos in his mind reached the near deadly point, when he paused in mid-air and threw up again, over the lake, blood and nothing else... then it activated... and suddenly, two-hundred feet up, Billy Batson was standing in mid-air...
...and then he was falling. His senses reeling, his mind completely chaotic, his heart hammering, he fell, and then he plunged into the lake. His impact sounded like a hammer against concrete and he felt things break, pain shooting into him further.
And he sank, into the waters, deep and dark...
...somewhere inside him, something was screaming. somewhere inside him, something was telling him he had to rise, had to try, had to fight. But he was tired of fighting, and tired of trying, tired of being the better man, tired of being a good guy and losing everything, over and over.
He despaired and sank further.
That small part of him, the one that wanted to live, the one that believed still, flung pictures at him; his friends, Sara and Hank. His sister, Rachel and blood-sister, Mary. His cousin Freddy, and others who cared, and he screamed again, in denial, and the darkness boiled around him. and the water sucked him down...
And somewhere inside him, at the base of him, at the deepest lowest point, one small part of him said, simply... no.
I will not die...
I will not fall...
I will not let myself end this way...
...and suddenly, Billy's eyes open, even as he settled to the bottom of the lake. And with the breath inside him, the little left, he spoke a word, his hands waving in a small line and a symbol.
On the surface, all was quiet, even the bubbles had stopped... and then they started again and the area where he had hit seemed to roil and bubble and boil... and out of the water, Billy Batson rose.
With a limp, he slowly walked across the surface of the water to the shore and collapsed there. He looked a mess, his clothing torn and battered, his whole body soaked, his face smeared with blood and looking like something a cat had dragged in.
It was a long time before he stopped shuddering, stopped moaning. But he slowly pried himself up, and rose and began to stagger towards the Bar, slow movements, limping, but moving...