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It was a particularly boring meeting at the watchtower, and Captain Marvel was having a hard time focusing. He wasn’t nodding off; that was relegated to his civilian identity. However, not even the Wisdom of Solomon was making Batman’s presentation interesting. It was a summary of the past mission, which Cap was present for, and so remembered the basics of. He wasn’t even focusing on a particularly important part of the mission, just statistics that he thought they could improve on.
Cap could appreciate learning from one’s mistakes; after all, that was his main method of learning. Like how after the last mission, he returned to his civilian form and found himself absolutely starving, as he hadn’t eaten anything in the past three days, and before that he hadn’t managed to scavenge anything the previous day. This mission was four days, based on the briefing. He had managed to eat before this mission, but he wasn’t sure whether he was reduced to the form he was in before he Shazamed.
If that was the case, he should be entirely fine. But, if time passed, which he knew was the case for aging, at least, then he hadn’t eaten in four days, and might collapse upon calling Shazam. It wouldn’t necessarily kill him, he knew that people could survive without food for a week, but he’d felt awful the last time he spent this long without food. He didn’t even know if food eaten in this form applied to his civilian form. He could try and see if there was anything he could take from the fridge, and maybe eat it in the Watchtower, but it could be a waste. Still, it was probably worth a shot.
“Captain Marvel is frowning. Is the world ending?” He blinked, looking up at Flash, rubbing the back of his neck and forcing a smile.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just thinking about something back home.” It wasn’t wrong. He generally tried to avoid lying if at all possible. Even when he couldn’t say something, he often said something true, or something about privacy. Batman wasn’t too happy about it, but almost everyone else seemed to get it.
“You could talk about it with one of us if you wanted?” Cap hid a sigh. Superman was always very encouraging, which was nice, but not necessarily the best for his secret identity. But, this was technically a concern about his super body, rather than one about his identity, so it would probably be fine.
“I mean, I guess I can talk about this.” Cap wasn’t looking at the rest of them, instead frowning in thought, so he didn’t see the shocked expressions of the rest of the league. “There’s a few things I don’t really know about… this,” he said, waving one arm to his body, grimacing a little. “The one I’m concerned about right now is food. I know I haven’t eaten in the past four days, but I don’t actually know if it will transfer over.” He looked at the rest of the League, who were all looking between themselves, confused.
“Transfer over?” This was Batman, which was to be expected. Cap frowned. Did he never explain this? Did no one else figure it out? He expected at least Batman to know. Then again, very few people in the Justice League were familiar with magic. Also, it benefited him to let them figure it out, but they hadn’t figured him out, and it had been over two years, not to mention the year he worked on his own. So, it might be safe to explain this basic fact about him.
“Well, I don’t always look like this. My civilian form looks different, and is mostly normal, although I still know some magic.” He saw many blank stares in his direction, so hurried along. “Anyway, that isn’t my concern. Time does pass for my civilian form, but I don’t know how food applies.” Batman glared at him.
“Shouldn’t you know this from the three day mission?” Captain Marvel grimaced, hesitating.
“There were extenuating circumstances. I was starving when I transformed back, but I hadn’t eaten before I left, so it could be just that.” Batman and Superman shared a glance.
“You know, you can always ask for help if you need it.” Superman was the one to speak his mind, concerned eyes trailed on him. Captain Marvel glanced around, seeing worried looks directed his way from most of his teammates. Biting his lip, he noted that they would definitely act differently if they knew he didn’t have regular access to food, or a home of his own. They would want to do something, and probably would insist on knowing his identity so they could help. Good intentions, but if they knew, they wouldn’t let him be a hero, and it was far too late for that.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” he spoke with practiced blandness. “Anyway, I’m just a little worried, that’s all. I should be fine. Either way, I’ll grab something to eat when I get back.” He did have enough money to be able to afford to eat out, for once. He could go to a buffet, one of those all you can eat ones. It would be a little pricey, so he’d be just outside the buffet when he transformed (or rather, as close as he could get) and if it turned out he was just fine, he’d just go couponing, like he normally did. Well, normal for when he had money.
“Would eating right now help?” This came from the Flash, who had a half eaten granola bar in hand, and had a hand in his snack pouch.
Cap sighed, bringing a hand to his face. “I honestly have no idea. The Wizard wasn’t the most helpful when he gave me this position. Hell, I almost wasn’t Captain Marvel because I’m a human being with flaws, and was therefore unworthy. I told him it was useless to expect perfection from humans, and that was that.” He felt surprised by the bitterness that clenched his heart and tainted his voice.
Clark and Bruce sat together in one of the many lounges in the manor, one with a fully stocked bar that they had declared their room a little while ago. Both had a glass in their hand, even though Clark wouldn’t be affected.
“How long did he go without food before the mission to not be able to tell if he hadn’t eaten in three days?” Bruce grimaced into his glass at Clark’s question, taking a large sip.
“At least a whole day without food and one with minimal food, possibly two whole days without food. One day without food would make him hungry, but probably wouldn’t be mistaken for starving for three days unless he already was food insecure and didn’t have enough food to sustain him.” Clark rubbed his temples, sighing.
“How did we miss this?”
“He didn’t want us to know, and has a cheery disposition that we didn’t look past. I bet there’s more that he isn’t telling us, in fear of his identity at least, if nothing else.” A long silence followed Bruce’s observation, ice clinking in his whiskey glass as he stared into it.
“What’s your opinion on ‘The Wizard,’ as he called it?” Clark’s eyes were hard behind his glasses.
“They have a poor relationship. Captain Marvel considers him a mentor, but is upset by how he is being treated, and might be somewhat insecure. The Wizard probably has nothing kind to say, and considering the surprise he showed, Captain Marvel is used to this treatment and didn’t consider it wrong.” Bruce leaned back, closing his eyes. How often had he thought of the man’s behavior and noted it was unusual for a grown man with good mental health? He just categorized the man as childish, and let it be. How long had he been food insecure, and how long had he found verbal abuse normal? Hell, sometimes members of the Justice League would slap him, be completely in the wrong, and he would apologize to them. That spoke of years of abuse.
“How could we help?” Clark looked beseechingly toward Bruce, who knew it was from his many experiences with those with poor lives.
“Most of my experience is with traumatized children, not adults,” he noted carefully. “I’m not sure if my knowledge will help all that much, but I can give it, nonetheless.” He took a sip from his glass, savoring the flavor and slightly delaying his speech. “We need to make sure he understands that the Watchtower is a safe place, without being too obvious about it. He needs a space assigned to him, preferably with something comfortable but explainable like a couch to sleep on, a lock that only works on the inside, and ready access to food. I could easily fund a food pantry, but say it's because heroes deserve compensation and free food seems easy enough. I have to make it obvious it's for everyone, because if we say it's for any individual, he probably won’t touch it. We should also put a minifridge in his space that he can store a couple meals in, in case he doesn’t want to go out and grab something.” Clark nodded slowly.
“That does seem reasonable for you to do as Bruce Wayne. You could make it sound like a whim, or because of Tim, who forgets to eat when he’s working, and figured heroes might have the same issue.” Clark gestured with his still mostly full beer, and Bruce smiled grimly.
“That could work. Plus, Flash’s food habits can get expensive, and if there’s anyone who has enough money to fund it, it’s me. The only problem is justifying a space for Captain Marvel.” Clark snorted.
“Easy, he volunteers to watch the feed for us fairly often, we could say it's his office for mostly that purpose, so he can be comfortable. He’s been in the League for two years, he deserves something nice. We can make sure his office has a computer that connects to the feed, and make sure that his desk is stocked up with anything he’d need for paperwork or notes, and say that the rest comes with it. We have multiple extra office-like spaces for general use, we can spare one for the guy who takes the most boring watch shifts.” Bruce and Clark clicked their glasses together.
“Sounds like a plan. It will be an acknowledgment of his work. You can propose the office, I as Bruce can start up the food pantry, and that should take care of some of it. Emotionally, I don’t know how much he will let us help due to his secret identity, but this much we can do.”
Billy grinned to himself. Having spent the time grabbing all he needed to buy some food (he’d saved up before his mission), he turned back into himself close enough to a cheap restaurant just in case he was poorly off. It turns out, his human body did not need any extra food when he was Marvel. However, he felt exhausted. Since he was here, however, he did decide he might as well eat with his hard earned savings. He finished his chicken tenders without major incident, if one ignored him nearly falling asleep in his dish three times.
Going into an abandoned alleyway, he opened a portal to the Rock of Eternity. Portals were tricky and tiring, however he was able to go to the Rock more easily than any other place, due to his connection. Without even looking, he nestled into a rough looking blanket he had for this exact purpose. It hid in a corner of the Rock that might have never existed before he made it, but such was the nature of the Rock. Ever shifting, ever changing. The only reason Billy could navigate it so well was his attachment to the rock, and the sheer amount of time spent here.
As soon as he lay in his nest of blankets, he was out like a light.
Clark looked at the clock, nervously eying the second hand ticking away. Marvel was supposed to show up for watch again today, and he wanted to be the one to show him his new office, supplied by Bruce’s donation. Usually, he’d show up about fifteen minutes early. It was ten minutes til his watch. Dread pooled in his stomach, wondering if Marvel had been injured, starved, or hurt when he got home.
The zeta tubes called out Marvel’s number, and Clark sighed in relief.
Marvel walked into the room, moving his usual route to go to watch, and blinked as he saw Clark.
“Superman? I didn’t think you were scheduled to be here today.” Clark relaxed at how calm the man sounded. It seems he fixed his problem.
“There has been a shift around on the station. Bruce Wayne made a donation, and we decided that, as the person who takes the most watch shifts, you should get your own office. He also insisted on a kitchen and mess hall, saying that he wasn’t sure heroes fed themselves when they were too busy focusing on saving the world. As such, all offices have stocked mini-fridges in them. Construction is ongoing for the kitchen and mess hall, but it should be done in about a week.” Clark tried to keep his voice neutral, and Marvel blinked, before humming.
“Well, there are many heroes who might need those services. I bet Flash would really appreciate the new set up.” Clark smiled, nodding at the answer. Hopefully this was genuine, unlike the deflection that Bruce said it might be.
“Considering how much he eats, I don’t doubt it. I think he also said something about setting up a merch line to continue funding it, since hero merchandise seems fairly popular, and feeding the heroes seems like a good use of the profits.” Marvel nodded thoughtfully.
“That could work out. No matter how big a donation Mr. Wayne gave, I doubt he could keep up with Flash forever, and if everyone is also eating, it adds up quickly.”
“We calculated that his original donation would keep up with the food needs of everyone for perhaps a month, which should be enough time to set up a venture that is more sustainable. And I don’t know if everyone will use it all the time. This was calculated as if every hero ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner here, along with their expected snacks. Now, let me guide you to your new office.” Clark led the way, while considering how to bring up the concerning statement made about 24 hours ago. Looking back at Marvel, he noticed the man seemed slightly uncomfortable.
“Look, about yesterday…” Marvel seemed to pause a little and Clark smiled, trying to encourage him. “Well, apparently food is not a concern, but sleep is. I ate, then spent the whole day sleeping. It’s actually why I was almost late.” He spoke sheepishly, and Clark relaxed.
“Well, you probably shouldn’t go out on any missions longer than a week or so anyway. I suppose it’s a good thing your office has a couch. It should be big enough to sleep on, and you don’t need to worry about anyone walking in, as your office locks only from the inside.” Clark hoped that was reassuring to the man. There was a good five seconds of silence.
“I probably shouldn’t be away from Fawcett for a week for other reasons than my sleep, but that is a good point. I do have a concern about my office. Is it lightning proof?” Clark frowned, considering. He believed that just about everything in that room was, due to worries that he might set off lightning in his sleep or something.
“I think everything but the computer is. We might be able to get a protective covering for it, if you need it.” Clark glanced curiously at the man, who relaxed.
“Good, good. It’s just, every time I transform back, I kind of get struck by lightning? It doesn’t hurt me or anything, I just know I’ve fried a few comms and definitely a number of cameras that way.” Clark blinked. He had wondered why Captain Marvel had needed a replacement comm so often. Batman had thought the man was just reckless, but if he was struck by lightning twice a day, every day, that would do a number on comms.
“I see. I think the desk is lightning protected, so you could put your comms in one of the drawers before you get struck by lightning. For when you’re on the ground, I can ask Batman if he could find a solution.” Clark watched as Marvel relaxed.
“Thank you,” he spoke quietly. They stayed silent as the two headed to the door.
“This is your office. Everything should be set up, and the door locks from the inside. The software is the same as the computer you usually use, and the computer doesn’t currently have a password.” Captain Marvel opened the door, staring into the room. It wasn’t too large, as there wasn’t much room on the satellite, but it had a couch, a coffee table, and a desk and chair. As mentioned previously, there was a minifridge beside the couch. Clark watched Marvel, and felt his heart ache as he watched the way the man examined the room. It was as if he’d never had anything to his name before, as if this room was the only place he truly owned.
“I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Clark murmured, and left. It hurt to think that someone he considered a friend had been hurting, but at least he knew that he had a safe place to stay.