The Life Of Billy Batson | Shazam

Rain

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A rainy day spells trouble for our young hero.

Or does it?

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The sky was dark as thunder boomed overhead, ominous clouds rolling towards Fawcett City. The rainy season could be one of the most beautiful seasons for most, but one of the deadliest for the homeless. 

Sickness spread easier through soaked clothing, cold weather, and howling wind. It was safe to say that young Billy Batson was not looking forward to it. The 12-year old walked aimlessly through the streets of his beloved city, casually checking for any signs of trouble.

He had already finished his rounds for the day and was heading back to his makeshift home of the week, a small inlet created by the overhang of a diner's roof, the back alley of a bank, and the wall of a building Billy didn't know the name of. 

The young hero hummed to himself as he walked under a bridge, nodding with a small smile to an older man sitting by a shopping cart.

Once he was out from under the bridge, Billy turned and got back on the sidewalk, closer to his destination. He walked down an alley until he reached the end, the small space near a tattered chain-link fence. 

There was a worn blanket in the corner, some boxes here and there, and discarded food wrappers littered about. Billy ignored them in favor of plopping down on an old beanbag he had found, the side torn and repeatedly patched.

He looked up at the overhang of the roof, which provided some cover, but not a lot. The clouds had long since rolled in over the city completely, hanging ominously, waiting to release their boon upon Fawcett City's citizens. 

Billy sighed, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over himself. Thunder rolled in the sky as lightning crackled, signaling a beginning to the showers.

As if on cue, rain poured from the sky, heavy and bone-drenching. The 12-year-old flinched at the sudden sharp cold of rain pouring off the roof and splattering on the ground around him.

He watched as puddles formed in the alley, reflecting the grim sky above him. He pulled the blanket tighter around his thin frame, shaking as the cold air nipped at his skin. 

There was a sudden rattling noise, causing the boy to look around for its source. He frowned, his brow furrowed as he realized the sound was above him.

Billy looked up slowly, only to find the overhang of the roof rattling against the side of the building. The overhang itself wasn't attached to the roof, simply being leftover tin from constructing the building, but it hadn't ever moved before.

The boy was pulled from his thoughts by a crash of thunder, the overhang rattling violently before slipping off the roof completely. 

It was sent crashing down right toward Billy, the boy's eyes widening as he untangled himself from the blanket and threw himself out of the way of the falling scrap metal.

He fell into a puddle, his hands scraping against the asphalt and stinging his skin. Rain drenched his clothes, making his hair stick to his head. 

Billy winced, biting his tongue as he looked back at the inlet. It was nothing more than a pile of scrap now, and salvaging anything from the wreckage would have to wait. For now, he had to get out of this downpour.

The boy looked at his hands, palms scratched and bloody, though the rain made the blood run down his wrists and through his fingers. 

He swallowed and stood up, looking around for possible cover. The rain made it hard to see very far, but he knew the area well and headed towards where he knew an overpass was.