A/N: Here's another brief interlude. It is somewhat relevant to the next chapter, I promise. Can't promise you'll like how, though. Guess we'll find out on Friday!

"... Mother? Can I see him?"

"May I see him. With all the books you read one would expect your grammar to be correct, if nothing else."

Liam pauses at the door, unsure as to whether he is allowed in or not. His parents don't want him to stay too much around Bill, because he's come from a line of Isosceles, and until his frame is firmly set there is thought to be a risk it may be corrupted again through unconscious imitation. At least, that's the reason why those like him are never allowed to meet their birth parents again.

There have never been instances of a new Equilateral being corrupted by an Irregular like Liam, but his parents are unwilling to take risks, because Bill is their only chance to ever raise a normal child. Law forbids anyone who produces an Irregular from breeding again and, until offered to adopt Bill, they had thought their line would end with Liam.

"May I see him?" he finally dares again, his eye shifting to the crib at the far end of the room.

His mother hums, looking for something in a drawer. She is rarely still, always busying herself with some chore; if there is nothing to do, she will make it up. "Just look. Don't touch him and for Circles' sake, don't wake him up. Getting him to sleep is a chore and a half."

It's more than what Liam expected to get, and he gets in the room quickly, before she can change his mind. She's pretending to be still busy, but he's acutely aware of her gaze on him, to make sure he doesn't try to reach for the infant.

In the two weeks Bill has been there, Liam has got only a glimpse of him. Most of all he's heard him, because Bill wails a lot: for food, for attention, just for the heck of it. It always gets his parents to rush to him, to make sure everything is fine, to feed and entertain him. His mother holds him a lot, too. Liam wonders if she used to hold him like that, too, when he was a baby. He can't remember. If she ever did, she doesn't do it anymore anyway.

The building bitterness fades when Liam peers into the crib. It is a bit annoying, because all things considered he has all rights to be bitter. He is an Irregular despite his parents being both perfectly Regular, while Bill is a perfect Equilateral despite his parents being Isosceles. Bill is getting all the attention, all the proud looks and remarks Liam could never have, and he's not even their child. They even gave him his name, too, like neither of them even cares that they already have a son called William. He's an Irregular. He was an accident. He doesn't count.

And if anything that is said about Irregulars is true, then he should be wrathful and bitter and just plain mean-spirited. Everyone, even his parents, probably expect him to hate the baby.

But all Liam can think when he sees him up close for the first time is that he's just so tiny. He's only one inch and a half long, which makes Liam feel so much taller from his own four and a half inches, and he's sleeping on his back, eye closed. His hands are so tiny, too, and his feet are tangled in the baby blanket he must have kicked off himself before falling asleep.

"... Was I this small when I was born?" Liam askes, his voice very quiet so he won't wake him up, and turns to look at his mother. She looks back at him, and for a moment - only one moment - something in her eye seems to soften. It happens, from time to time, and Liam treasures those looks. He never gets them from his father.

"You were very small, yes."

Her voice sounds gentler than usual, too. Liam logs that detail in the back of his mind, to recall when a bad moment comes, and looks back into the crib to realize that Bill is not sleeping anymore: his eye is wide open, and he's staring straight up at him.

Liam has a moment to panic and think he's going to start wailing again, that his mother will blame him for it, before Bill finally giggles and reaches up to him with short, stubby arms.

… Wait. Does he want him to pick him up?

A hand closes around Liam's arm to pull him back, away from the crib, before he can fully process that. "I had told you not to wake him up!"

"But I didn't do anything!" Liam protests. His mother scowls, but she doesn't get too mad, if anything because Bill is not wailing. He's squirming and kicking, making some noises that sound a lot like 'bababababa', and that's it. She sighs, and lets go of Liam's wrist.

"Go back to your room," she says, and with that she turns back to the crib.

Liam leaves quickly, closing the door behind himself, but he lingers there for a few moments, blinking fast. He can't recall any other time when someone actually wanted him come closer and touch them. It's because Bill doesn't know any better, of course, and it's surely going to change when he grows up and learns that something about him is very very wrong, but still...

"I think he likes me," he tells the empty hallway, and all of a sudden he feels elated. He returns to his room with a spring in his step that wasn't there before.

Next time he gets into that room, his mother is out and Billy is wailing. A lot.

The door is locked, as always when there is only Liam in the house and no one can make sure he doesn't spend too much time with the baby, but something his parents never realized was that the key of his father's study opens that door, too. And besides, what else can he do? His mother is not coming back for another hour at least, and Bill is screaming his lungs out.

He can't be hungry, because he's sure his mother fed him before leaving, so he's probably just being fussy. Maybe he poked himself in the eye: it happens a lot with babies, because they try to suck their thumb but aren't very coordinated yet, so sometimes they stick their finger in before they've turned the socket into a mouth.

"Billy? Can you stop crying? Please?"

Asking nicely doesn't work. Neither does poking him, apparently. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Liam reaches in the crib to pull him out, baby blanket and all. That will help, right?

It works like a charm: the moment he's picked up, Bill stops wailing like a switch has been flipped. He blinks, makes a sniffling sound, and looks at him. And giggles.

It's all really cute, until he reaches up to poke Liam's eye and giggles even harder at the resulting yelp. Then it's not so cute anymore. But at least he stays quiet - okay, almost quiet - while Liam fetches a book and reads him a story, clinging to his arm and staring down at the pictures on the book, and it's the best company Liam's had in a long time.

"... And I'm taking this one, too."

Randall's brow raises when he looks at the book Liam is putting on the counter. "Oh, this? Aren't you a bit too old?" he asks with a laugh. He's the owner of the local bookstore and he's always been kind to him - he tells him a lot of interesting things, recommends new books and he even pretends not to notice when Liam starts reading the books right off the shelves. Not many people would be that nice to an Irregular.

"It's not for me," Liam says a bit defensively, putting the money on the counter and gathering the books in his arms. He reads a lot and he knows he's smart - his one true strength - and he doesn't want Randall to think he's regressing to kiddie stuff. "It's for Bill. He likes it when I read him things."

"Oh," Randall says, realization dawning on him. "I see. Your parents' new child, is it?"

Liam straightens himself. It's not an easy task, because his Irregularity makes him lean a lot on one side, but he thinks he does pretty well right now.

"My baby brother," he corrects him, and leaves the store with the books held tight in his arms.