Chapter Text
In all of his time as being a hero, how he would die never crossed Billy Batson's mind. After all, why would it? With the power of Shazam at his fingertips, the gods ready to be released with a simple word, it seemed that nothing could ever touch him. For years he fought gods, heroes he onced called friends, went to the underworld, and survived Trigon nearly dragging him and the whole world to the depths of Hell, all without getting a single scratch.
The idea of being killed by his teammate, his mentor, his idol, someone he considered his friend... it never touched his thoughts. It was impossible.
And yet, here he was, a hand around his neck as he was lifted by Superman, mouth frozen shut so that he couldn't call on the magical lightning bolt that would take out the Kryptonian instantly, staring into his eyes as they turned red with heat.
Someone had to help him, someone had to see that what Superman was planning to do, killing millions of people not just in Gotham or Metropolis but other worlds, someone had to see that this whole thing was wrong. He should have seen it long ago, when he found out that Superman killed Green Arrow, when he watched as the Kryptonian slaughtered the entire Green Lantern Corps, when the voice of Shazam still spoke to him in his head, desperately trying to tell him that Superman had gone too far Billy, you're better than this, we're better than this.
But he had ignored it, and now everyone in the room, Wonder Woman, Yellow Lantern, The Flash, friends he would do anything for, watched as Superman planned to kill him, like he was simply another criminal to dispose of. Like he was the Joker.
Not even Black Adam, who Billy thought was finally starting to open up to him, did anything. He could feel Adam's energy, the sparks mingling with his own, spiking as the milliseconds went on, Superman's eyes growing hotter and hotter until-
It burned. Every nerve in Billy's body screamed with fire as the heat vision easily sliced through his skull. He couldn't scream, couldn't move, couldn't possibly hope to fight back in the Kryptonians grip. It was like he was no longer in the body of Shazam, no longer filled with the power he had been given years before, and was now simply Billy Batson, a kid way too over his head, life being stolen by a tyrant. There was no life flashing before his eyes, no thoughts of what he should and shouldn't have done, no praying or begging. There was only pain, pain like he never thought existed, coursing through every vein.
He knew when Death finally took pity on him, finally took him away from the world of pain and suffering. Her embrace was strangely warm and comforting, a warm shadow that covered his whole being. He could vaguely feel his body falling, but it was so far away that it might as well not exist. Death extended her hand, offering peace and serenity, when she suddenly froze. Her head tilted to the side, as if she were listening to some unheard melody, hand retracting slowly.
"I am sorry, William Batson," she whispered to Billy, beginning to fade away. "But they are still holding on to you."
Who's holding onto me? Billy desperately wanted to ask, wanted to know what Death meant. Was this his punishment for helping Superman and the Regime, for pushing away Shazam and so many friends?
But he couldn't ask anything, not when he couldn't even feel his own mind or understand the complete and utter darkness around him. Death simply disappeared, leaving Billy all alone and left to his thoughts and memories. They felt murky, yet at the same time they were so sharp that it felt like he was reliving them over and over again. Every death, murder, drop of blood, and warning went through the boy, leaving him aching to cry with no way to.
I killed Lex Luthor, he cried to himself, the memory of him using lightning so that Lex couldn't use the weapon that would incapacitate Superman rushing through him. Billy might not have finished the job, but moments afterword Superman snapped Lex Luthor's neck, furious to find out that whom he thought a friend betrayed him to help Batman.
If I hadn't done anything, he would still be alive.
In all this time, Billy's never killed anyone. He was the only one besides Flash in the Regime that hadn't, but now, Lex Luthor's death weighted on him like a crushing rock, suffocating him with grief and sorrow. The darkness didn't care about any of this, stubbornly occupying every single atom of space. It was almost like the darkness was judging him, silently allowing Billy to suffer for everything he's done.
I deserve every second of it, by the gods, I deserve every second of it.
He thought he could help Superman, keep him from going too far... but he failed to see that the Kryptonian went too far the second he killed the Joker, the second he decided to take over Earth and become its tyrant. Why did he think that being his comrade would change anything, that his voice would matter in the eyes of Superman? He was just a boy in a man's body with no one to guide him.
I had a guide. But I pushed him away, I didn't listen to anything he had to say. I miss you Shazam, please, don't leave me alone. I'll do anything, please, please, don't leave me alone. I can't be alone again...
He hoped Death would come back and take him away from this darkness, take him away from all the painful memories and thoughts. Whoever was holding onto him was wasting their time, putting too much effort into a boy that lost everything because he was too blind to stop any of it. In the depths of the darkness he could still sometimes feel his body, hear the whispers of words spoken around him. But now there were no more words or sounds, just pure silence that was amplified by his screaming thoughts.
I never left you, Billy, came a gentle voice, so soft that boy was all but positive that he had imagined it, a hallucination made in his mourning mind in attempts to calm him. There was no way Shazam would come back to him, especially now that he was dead. The Champion of Magic would find a different vessel, Billy was sure of it. He could only pray that they would not mess up as he had, and would protect the world as he should've.
Just hold on a little bit longer, the voice of Shazam insisted, a little bit louder than before. I promise I'll save you, Billy. Now that I have the chance to, there's no way in Hell I'm letting you go, not for every star in the universe.
Just let me go, Billy found himself pleading as another wave of memories started to play. I'm not worth it, I've done enough already, just let me go.
If the boy could see Shazam, if he was even here at all, Billy knew that his face would be set in stubborn determination, the same expression Billy would get when faced with a tough opponent. He didn't even realized how much he missed Shazam until now, how lonely he had been without the Champions voice constantly in his head. For the longest time in had served as an annoyance, but now he longed for the days when he and Shazam would spend hours talking to one another about everything and nothing at all. It was all so much simpler then, when Superman was still a symbol of hope instead of fear, when the world still made sense.
Never, was the only thing Shazam replied with, before his presence faded away yet again. It hurt so much, so much that Billy thought he was dying again. Even in death he couldn't stop pushing everyone away.
I should have listened to Harley... why didn't I listen to Harley?
That was the last conherant thought he had for a long while. Afterwords everything became so blurred and out of place that his mind might as well have been scattered air, bumping into everything and nothing. The cold began setting in then, the darkness no longer pretending to be warm, instead soaking every inch with ice. Billy could barely feel any of it, yet at the same time the cold was all he could feel. Memories continued to cycle through, but he couldn't react to them any more, only take it. They blended together until he couldn't tell where one started and the other ended, leaving him at the mercy of feeling nothing at all and too much.
And somehow through all of it, through the darkness and time that stretched on for eternity, Shazam's voice still managed to find him. It was few and far inbetween, and most of the time Billy had no idea what he was saying, but he was still there. It was the only comfort he had, the only moments where his memories didn't threaten to consume him with everything they had.
And gradually, with time he no longer understood or felt, Shazam's voice grew louder and louder.
You're so close Billy, he said one day, the first words that the boy's been able to comprehend in a long time. You can make it, I know you can make it.
After that, the darkness began to... become lighter? Billy didn't know if that was the right word or not. The darkness had been so absolute and so prominent for so long that it felt impossible that it could fade. But yet, fade is started to. The cold didn't warm, Billy was sure it never would, but it was something. What, he didn't know, but he did know that Shazam's voice was still getting louder.
That's right, just a little bit more...
The light was starting to grow painful to his eyes, but he didn't have eyes. The boy was still dead, still lost in whatever Purgatory this was. So while he wanted to shy away from the light filling his vaguely aware senses, he couldn't.
But it hurts, Billy wanted to whine, but he had no voice. It continued to hurt until everything was aching and throbbing, but still, Shazam pushed him on.
I know it hurts, Billy, he said soothingly, his voice now so clear that it echoed. But that's good. That means you're coming back to me. Just bare with me a little bit longer...
There he stayed in the ever growing light, the darkness receding steadily. It almost didn't want to let him go, Billy could tell by the lingering ice that surrounded him even as the light overcame the dark. It didn't fight him leaving, but it definitely wasn't happy about the whole thing either. Shazam knew this too, but the Champion couldn't care less what the darkness wanted.
And then, without and warning whatsoever, Billy could see. It took him many long moments to realize what he was looking at, but his fuzzy mind finally told him that he was looking into an endless body of stars and galaxies, each twinkling with their own beautiful light. It was such a pretty sight after seeing nothing but pain for so long that Billy wanted to sob, until he realized that he had eyes.
The boy sharply sat up with a harsh gasp, feeling a rush of life shooting through his veins like a bullet. All at once, everything was too much, too bright too loud too hard too soft, not after so long- and tears really did begin to roll down his face. They burned, the feeling reminding him of Superman burning a hole into his head, the salt on his tongue making him choke. Everything burned.
"Billy-" a voice suddenly call out, a voice so familiar and safe.
"Shazam," the boy sobbed, instantly seeing the face of the Champion he knew all too well. His voice was hoarse and dry, as if he were speaking for the very first time. "It hurts, please make it stop-"
Shazam instantly put his arms around Billy, doing his best to comfort him while he cried his heart out. He couldn't do anything to stop the pain, gods knows he wanted to, but it had to fade on it's own. He may have been the Champion of Magic, but even he had his limitations.
"I know it hurts, Billy," he whispered, rocking the boy back and forth. "I'm so sorry, I can't stop it, but I promise it will."
Will it?
It has to. What is he supposed to do if it doesn't?
I don't know. I... I don't know.
And in the blink of an eye, after nearly a year... Billy Batson was finally brought back from the dead.
But even then, after so little time, Shazam knew the boy would never be whole ever again.