ISOTA: O3

Billy sat down, mind reeling and stomach churning. Everything spun. He tried to speak, but all words died in his throat so that only a few muttered sounds escaped his fumbling lips.

Mortimer looked away, as stoic and solem as Billy wished himself to be. "It makes sense, Four," he said.

Billy nodded faintly and whispered, "Thanks. I'll keep this in mind."

Mortimer gave him a curt nod and walked away. Billy started to watch him go, but soon his vision blurred over as hot tears stung the back of his eyes.

Before he knew it, Warren was kneeling at his side.

"Billy! What'd he do? Should I call the cops?" he asked, voice tense with concern.

Billy shook his head and closed his eyes. Timidly, Warren reached out and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It's okay, Billy. You can tell me," he assured.

"No," Billy rasped, "I'm fine. S- same as always." Who knew the truth could be lies? Yes, he was the same, but he wasn't what he'd believed himself to have always been.

Warren let go and looked around nervously. Billy opened his eyes and looked up. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and got to his feet.

"Warren- uh, I think I'm gonna go home," he said. Warren got up too, nodding.

"So, uh- I'll see you in school, then?" Warren asked, fidgeting nervously with his glasses. Billy nodded, and they went back to the table to get their things in cold silence.

Once home, Billy rushed upstairs to his room to lie down, wanting it all to be some kind of sick dream. To wake up free of the implication that his life had been in some way false. That he was just who he'd always known himself to be. A hyperintelligent but otherwise normal, completely human boy.

Billy's stomach lurched as he realized what he'd just thought. Hyperintelligent and otherwise normal didn't exactly work like that, did they. Mortimer- He had a point. It did make sense.

Billy never caught colds, but he reacted incredibly to the flu. Just getting the shot made him sick to his stomach, and that one time he'd got the flu back in first grade had him bedridden for days. Yet, he'd never found himself subject to anything extra-terrestrial. He'd been all around the galaxy, been exposed to all kinds of life, but he never seemed to catch anything terrible from them. Billy vaugely thought he'd gotten a bad Skypest bite, but it had cleared up quite quickly, and he couldn't recall it happening since.

Not that those proved anything. They could easily be little quirks of his person.

Yeah. Being a super-genius with a confused immune system is just a personality quirk.

Despite himself, Billy chuckled. Wiping tears from his eyes, he sighed and wondered if he'd ever come to terms with that truth. If he'd ever go back to his life.

He was startled out of this by a knock at the door. It was his mother, Susan Blaze.

"Billy? Is everything okay? You're home earlier than usual," she remarked as she stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind her. Billy sat up and shrugged, so Susan sat down on the bed and placed an arm around the boy.

"How 'bout a hug?" she asked. He nodded and threw his arms around her, holding on as tight as he could. As if she were the only thing keeping him from drifting away into nothingness. A mother's embrace is a warm and sacred bond, where one is always safe.

"I love you, mom," Billy managed through the knot in his throat. His mother leaned away slightly to kiss the top of his head.

"I love you, too. Everything will be fine, I'm sure," she said. She began to gently rub his back, the way she did when he was little.

Billy nodded numbly and whispered, "I'm not hungry."

Susan smiled and ruffled his hair. "Okay, I'll put yours in the fridge."

"Thanks," he said.

There was a loud buzz from downstairs, and his mother had to go tend to dinner. Now alone in the dark, Billy closed his eyes and fell asleep.

OH. Oh my God. I even got a review recently and it still took me forever to upload this. Wow me. Wow. Fact is I had this typed up for a while- And I'm halfway through chapter four. Is that good news? I hope so.