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Tommy was the unlovable child. The hated child. The child no one wanted to play with. The one everybody wanted to stay more than 10 feet away from.
Tommy was the diseased child. The lonely child. The child who couldn’t make a friend.
Tommy was the one who was never to touch another person, fearing that he may infect them.
It was ironic. Tommy wasn’t the one with the infection, they were.
You see, over a century ago a meteor hit the earth. It hadn’t caused much damage. It landed in an empty forest, just waiting for curious humans to go and study it.
Tommy had been told the story a hundred times.
A farmer went out to see it, staring at the strange rock with curiosity. The man thought that he had just won the lottery. A meteor on his property? That could be worth millions!
Just think of all the space nerds eager to take this massive space rock off his hands.
But what he wasn’t aware of was the living creatures on that rock. A virus. A virus that was unlike any other.
This one didn’t hinder or drag people down. This enhanced humans. Gave them special powers and abilities.
It was a symbiotic relationship.
Nothing like this had ever been seen before. People who could lift buses, people who were able to walk through fire, people who could breathe underwater.
It was the beginning of a new era.
Every human had gotten this virus, it spread faster than anything else known to mankind.
And the world had begun to settle.
Until Tommy came along.
Tommy watched as a needle was pressed into his skin, another blood sample being taken from him.
He wasn’t sure how many more tests they could possibly run.
Tommy was the only known of his kind.
The only human immune to the virus.
No one wanted to be near him in fear of somehow catching it. Which was a ridiculous sentiment, but people didn’t care. They had become too used to the creature living in their skin.
Tommy took a deep breath, sighing heavily as the blood began to flow through the tubes and into bags.
His parents weren’t here. They didn’t come to his appointments anymore. Tommy barely saw them anymore.
His nurse was very kind, though. Even if he was sick of these white walls and prickly needles it was the highlight of his week.
His nurse’s name was Wilbur. The man was tall and had curly brown hair that spiraled down the side of his face. The man was currently holding his hand, not without a glove of course. Wilbur smiled at him.
“You’re doing a great job, Tommy. Thank you for being a big help.”
Tommy simply stared off into space, letting the blood flow away from him.
Wilbur sighed, squeezing his hand. “I know you don’t like this, bud. But it’s alright. The doctors are hard at work to figure out what is going on.”
“They wanna fix me,” Tommy said plainly. “I don’t need to be fixed.”
Wilbur sucked in a quiet breath through his teeth, schooling his expression. “Maybe not fix you, but find out how to help others who may want to have the virus.”
Tommy turned away, tears trailing down his face. “I don’t want to do this.”
Wilbur made a wounded noise, reaching up and wiping the tear away.
Tommy hadn’t felt true human in as long as he could remember. Everyone around him was always dawned in rubber gloves and face masks.
Wilbur was the only one that didn’t wear a face mask.
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish…” Wilbur sighed, an angry tone to it. Though, Tommy didn’t think it was directed at him. “Doesn’t matter what I wish…” he said under his breath.
The bags were full, Wilbur quickly clipping everything closed and gently pulling out the needle. Tommy didn’t even wince anymore.
Wilbur pressed a roll of gauze against it, pushing down and holding pressure. After about 30 seconds, Wilbur released, laying a bandaid over it.
Wilbur was always the gentlest with him. It was something Tommy appreciated.
Wilbur then handed him a bag of cookies, opening it for him. Tommy munched on it, eyes distant as they stared at the clock.
His parents would be here to throw him into the back of the car soon enough. Then he’d live in his house for the next week before being tossed right back here.
The clock ticked by, Wilbur and his coworkers shuffling around and doing whatever tasks they had left to do.
It was well past pick up time. Wilbur checked his watch, glancing at Tommy with concern.
“Did your parents tell you when they were going to pick you up?”
Tommy shrugged. “They don’t really talk to me. Just said go get my blood drawn.”
Wilbur frowned, heading to his phone and starting to whisper.
His parents should have been here a long time ago.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Wilbur sighed into the phone. It was past closing time. It was nearly midnight. He was supposed to leave at 5 pm.
But Tommy’s parents didn’t show up and now he’s having to file a police report but of course they don’t care about this immune kid. They just told him to do what he thought was best.
What was there to even do? Wilbur had questioned.
The answer?
Throw him outside. Make his parents deal with whatever consequences come. No consequences would come of course. Tommy would simply be left out to die in the harsh weather and the government would see it as a disease stopped in its tracks.
Wilbur, of course, did not plan on doing that. He simply hung up the phone, placing it in his pocket. They said do whatever he thought was best.
And maybe this was a silver lining. Maybe this was a good thing.
Maybe this is just the moment he had been waiting for.
Wilbur took a deep breath, putting on a smile and going back to that depressed kid.
As soon as he reached Tommy’s chair, he bent down on his knees to get to eye level. “Hey, Toms.”
Tommy blinked at him.
“So, your parents haven’t come to pick you up. I called the authorities to try and figure out what is best to do. They told me to do whatever I thought I should do. So… I wanted to ask if you’d like to come home with me?”
Wilbur held his hand out, palm up.
Tommy looked down, eyes widening slightly. Wilbur hated that this was the most emotion he had seen from the boy in quite some time.
Tommy looked up at him, blinking rapidly.
Wilbur just nodded. “Go ahead, Toms.”
Tommy slowly reached out, fingers just barely brushing against Wilbur’s palm. The boy flinched at the touch before settling, easing his hands into Wilbur’s.
He was so cold. Had Tommy always been this cold? Unknowing of the warmth of another person’s touch?
Wilbur wanted to fix that. He wanted to wrap Tommy in a warm blanket and tuck him against his chest so he could hear that heart beating.
Wilbur let his hand close around Tommy’s, the boy staring in awe. Wilbur then opened his other arm, Tommy sliding off the chair and slotting himself by Wilbur’s shoulder.
The brunet wrapped his arms around Tommy, holding him as closely and tenderly as he could. Muffled cries began to fill his ears, Wilbur just holding tighter.
He wished he wasn’t the first hug the kid had in years.
Wilbur lifted him up, running fingers through his hair as Tommy sobbed. Fat tears rolled down his face, hiccuping so much Wilbur had to make sure he was getting enough oxygen. Tommy’s fingers curled into his shirt, holding on for dear life as Wilbur headed to the car. He settled in the front seat, not wanting to let go of the boy quite yet.
He let Tommy cry it out, eventually falling asleep on his chest. The steady thump of Wilbur’s heart his lullaby. Wilbur carefully placed him in the passenger seat, buckling him in and starting to drive off.
Things were going to change. Both for him and for Tommy.
For Tommy?
No more blood draws. No more questions. No more needles.
For Wilbur?
He just took on another full time job. Tommy was a broken kid, and he had taken on the honor of trying to help piece him back together.
He had a feeling this would be a good change.