The Secret Life of Billy Captain Marvel Batson

A Gremlin In The Watchtower?

"Captain?" Black Canary's voice shook the big man out of his stupor.

Looking down, he realized he'd absentmindedly applied too much force on his beef, bending the fork, cracking the porcelain and splitting the table beneath it with his knife. "Sorry," his cheeks heated with embarrassment.

Captain Marvel had stayed in his current form since they were stuck in the Watchtower.

He missed being Billy.

Food tasted way better when he was hungry. The Captain was never hungry. Billy always was. Billy devoured his meals with gusto.

On top of that, everything he touched as Marvel was as fragile as tissue paper. He missed living normally. As Billy.

Billy slept sweetly. The Captain had no need for sleep.

Every core member of the Justice League had fully equiped private quarters in the Watchtower, lined with lead and sound  proofed for privacy. He had just finished lining his with Marvellium, so that his transformations within the room would go undetected.

"It's been fun, " he nodded at Ollie and Dinah. Marvel took a new plate and loaded it with steak, potatoes and some veggies that Billy would need, grabbed a box of juice and headed to his quarters.

Closing the door behind him, he threw his head back.

"Shazam!"

Lightning struck his form. The Watchtower lights stayed steady. Nothing broke.

Grinning to himself, itty bitty Billy Batson perched himself on Marvel's large chair swinging his legs as he inhaled the aroma of steak and potatoes on the desk in front of him.

His stomach growled in response as he tucked in, savouring every bite.

The shower knob was too high for little Billy to reach. The bed too tall and too slippery for him to climb. Everything in the room was heavy and huge. All built specifically for Captain Marvel.

He needed a small plastic stool to climb on. Maybe a comfy low stool to sit on...

------

Ollie downed his eighth beer as he slumped on the couch in the conservatory.

The stars looked bright yet blurry.
One of the small stools moved in the dark.

"Who's there?"
There was no reply as a tiny shadow scurried out of the room with the stool.

He blinked again.
The stool was gone. Was that a rat?
Why would a rat steal a stool?

He opened another can of beer and took a swig.

"You shouldn't drink so much," squeaked a tiny voice.

"I'll drink as much as I bloody want," the archer retorted as he took another swig.

"Why are you drinking?"

"To drown away my misery."

"Why are you miserable?"

"Just look around," Ollie waved his arms in a grand gesture.

"Everyone here's got god-like powers except me. Even my Pretty Bird," tears streamed down the blonde's cheeks.

"Does that really matter?" Squeaked the child-like voice.

"Does it.. of course it does! Everyday, she rubs shoulders with godlike beings like Superman, Captain Marvel.... Why would she want me? She and Marvel are close," groaned the blonde.

"What??!" Choked the kiddy voice. "She's like a mother figure to Cap. You don't think?"

"Of course I know. Look at that man. He towers over all of us. Ridiculously muscular. Chicks love that," he moaned.