"Get away! Get away from me, you freak! Abomination!"

"Ophelia, stop it! It's not his fault—"

"I don't care! I don't want to see him any more, get him away from me! Get away!"

"Ophelia, no! Put it down! Put it DOWN—!"

Harold woke with a start. His eyes snapped open, and his heart was drumming wildly against his ribcage, but he didn't move. He remained in bed, staring up at the ceiling, fully aware that he was covered in sweat. He had been dreaming. Even now, the voices echoed in his mind, as loud as if the speakers were shouting at him from across his bedroom, and the words as sharp as knife blades.

Slowly, Harold sat up, shaking his head to clear it. The sun was rising beyond his window, and sunlight was creeping into the room, erasing the last shadows of predawn.

Harold was shivering. Still feeling immensely shaken up, he pulled off his sweat-drenched sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands and wondering why he had had that dream. It wasn't the first time, but it had certainly been a long time since he had woken up like this....

A knock sounded on the door. He raised his head, grateful for the distraction, and called out, "Come in."

The doorknob rattled and Jimmy entered with his usual cheery smile, his dark hair messy and a towel draped over his shoulder. "Morning," he said brightly. "I was just checking to see if you're ready to—" He paused, noticing Harold's expression, the damp sheets, and the sweat beading his forehead. A short pause followed. Then Jimmy said, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Harold told him, with a feeble attempt at a smile. "It's nothing."

"You sure? Because you look—"

"Yes," Harold said, now with a bite of impatience. "Positive. What's up?"

"Shower. Breakfast." Jimmy still looked uncertain. He stared at Harold for a few more seconds, then opened his mouth.

"I'm fine," Harold said before he could start. "Really." He stood up. "Just a—a bad dream, that's all. We all get them, don't we?"

"I suppose," said Jimmy, though he still looked suspicious. "What'd you dream about?"

"That all the vending machines suddenly went empty," Harold said in a very serious voice. Jimmy gave him an annoyed really look, and Harold laughed. Slinging an arm around his shoulder, he said, "You have no idea how horrifying it was. We had to eat beets from the canteen!"

Harold picked out a fresh suit of clothes and a towel of his own, then they walked to the showers. Jesse, the elderly janitor, was outside the bathroom as usual, warming the water with his flame-based powers. Harold felt his tension dissolve under the hot water, and Jimmy too seemed to relax. Feeling refreshed, they pulled on their clothes and headed down to the canteen, where Helen was already seated in their usual spot at the table.

They collected their trays and approached the lunch lady's counter, then went to sit beside Helen when Gemma had stocked their trays.

"What's been going on?" she said absently, munching on an apple.

"Harold had a nightmare," Jimmy said at once.

The fork clattered from Harold's hands as he cast a look of mingled incredulity and indignation at Jimmy, who merely shrugged.

"Yes, I had a nightmare," Harold said to Helen, who was watching him intently, though he did not stop glaring at Jimmy. "Happy now?"

"When was the last time you ever had a nightmare?" Helen asked, looking genuinely confused.

Harold picked up the fork and stabbed moodily at his food. "I don't know...couple months?"

"Is it the same one as last time?"

Harold hesitated. He didn't want to answer, but he knew they wouldn't stop pestering him if he didn't. "Yes."

"What was it about?"

"Nothing, okay," he said, more aggressively than he intended. "It was just a stupid dream."

Helen looked at him with one eyebrow raised. She clearly didn't believe him, but thankfully decided to let the matter drop. "All right. So how are you, anyway? I mean physically," she added quickly, as he opened his mouth to retort, furious. "As in, you were stung about a million times over by giant mutant hornets. I know you have incredible healing capabilities and all, but are you really all right?"

"Actually...I feel kinda weird," Harold said. He had spoken truthfully. He had not acknowledged it before now, because it had seemed so insignificant, but the fact that it had persisted until now meant he couldn't deny any longer that he'd been feeling odd since the other day. "Honestly, it's like I have an upset stomach, like I ate something that didn't agree with me, you know? Except it's not just my stomach, it's everywhere. This weird, burning feeling."

"Do you think it could have something to do with the fact that you ate a half-transmuted coin that was randomly transformed by a mystical floating cloud of electricity?"

She said it snarkily, yet Harold found some unexpected truth in her words. "Actually, yes. That is around the same time this started happening."

Helen froze, looking up at him with her apple suspended halfway to her mouth. "I wasn't actually being serious."

Harold shrugged. "Well, I was."

Helen put down her apple and shared a look with Jimmy. Harold didn't like that look; despite it only being a few seconds in duration, it seemed as if they had perfectly communicated a long, detailed message, encrypted only to him.

"Stop it," he said, pointing accusingly from one to the other.

"Stop what?" said Jimmy.

"Stop communicating like that, with that weird look. I hate it when you two do that."

"We're not communicating," Helen said. "We were just....Okay, fine! There's something we think you should do, that you really should do, but you're not going to want to do."

"Which is what?"

"Go to the Medical Wing."

"Absolutely not," Harold said quickly and firmly.

"Told you," Jimmy said, with a smug I knew it expression.

"I have super healing, remember? I recovered immediately after getting my head bashed into the ground by a psychotic ape—something you were quick to point out"—he pointed at Helen—"so I think I can handle a little tummy trouble."

"Thought it wasn't just your tummy?" Jimmy said.

"I—well—that's besides the point!"

"Yes, it is," Helen said. "And the point is, you said you'd been feeling weird for a few days now. Shouldn't your miraculous healing abilities have fixed that up by now?"

Harold opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. She was right. Again.

"Judging by the fact that your mouth is still open and I can almost hear your brain working overtime to come up with a witty response, I'll assume I'm right. You need to visit the Medwing."

Harold looked at Jimmy, who gave him a look that plainly said "She's got a point."

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll see the Nurse." He stood up. Helen and Jimmy looked satisfied. "But I'm taking this," he added, snatching Jimmy's pudding cup.

Harold had only been to the Medical Wing twice before: once, in his very first year at Helix, and two nights ago, when Mr. Girvan had instructed him to go so that they could determine whether the hornet venom was lethal or not. It was a large room with three small beds covered in white linen equally spaced across the white-tiled floor, which, like the Gym, could be altered so that several beds underneath could be added to the room if need be. There was only a single worker inside, Nurse Lucille Alloway, a young, pretty woman who wore her sleek, light brown hair in a neat bun.

As beautiful as she was, it was her eyes that Harold found most captivating: large, almond-shaped, and golden-brown, the colour of honey.

On top of this, she was in his experience among the kindest of Helix's entire staff. Yet he hated going anywhere near the Medical Wing. Though the students were the same in that they were all Enhanced, all from complicated backgrounds, there was no denying that they were all unique among their peers in one way or another: Harold's case being that, unlike them, the sharpest of knife blades could not break his skin, and if any damage had been done at all, his body would repair itself within a short time.

The Medical Wing, which more often than not had a number of ill students lining the beds, was a constant reminder of the painful mundaneness that could have been his reality had things been different—that had been his reality on several occasions.

He was not used to being hurt; he was not used to staying hurt, getting sick, or being physically overpowered. All of those things were what a trip to the Medical Wing signified—were the very reasons it existed—and served only to remind him of some of the most painful moments of his entire life.

If he had his way, he would never even visit the section of the school in which this area was situated. But life, of course, never liked when he had his way.

He had been standing outside the Medical Wing for fifteen minutes, his hand raised to knock, but completely unmoving, when, quite abruptly, the door flew open, startling him, and Nurse Alloway herself stepped out in front of him, smiling her sweet smile.

"Were you planning on standing here forever, Harold?"

"Probably," he said, with a little shrug.

She rolled her eyes playfully, then gently took hold of his arm and steered him inside. "I understand your discomfort at being here—"

"With all due respect, you really don't. No one could."

She sat him down on one of the beds and backed away, looking him up and down. "Hmm...let me guess. Possessing both the abilities of invulnerability and enhanced regeneration, the reality of being injured is an unfamiliar sensation that you absolutely reject, and being here reminds you of the fact that however invulnerable you are, you're not invincible, and are still prone to getting hurt, regardless of how hard it might be."

There was a brief silence.

"Okay, maybe you do understand. But nobody else does."

"Of course they don't. The only thing you and every other student here have in common is that you're Enhanced. Otherwise, all of you are completely different. No one knows what it's like to have bullets bounce off of them. The reality of getting hurt may scare them, but it's a fear they have to live with, and accept.

"You know how many of them would kill to have your powers?"

Harold sat in uncomfortable silence. Nurse Alloway sighed and picked up a clipboard and pen. "So, what are we dealing with today? Does this have anything to do with your last visit, and the hornet venom? Are you experiencing any side effects?"

"No," Harold said. "This is something different. I—" He hesitated. Could he tell her that he had snuck off campus?

"Oh please. Harold, I have at least six patients everyday, all of them with most ridiculous of injuries and even more ridiculous context as to how they got them. You have nothing to be embarrassed, or scared, about. Nothing leaves this room."

"I snuck out of school recently," said Harold,

Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. Nurse Alloway looked positively taken aback. After a few seconds she cleared her throat, trying to keep her expression neutral, and said, "All right. This is new, but, not entirely surprising. What happened?"

"Well, while I was out there, I sort of found something." He was wondering how much to tell her. Would she believe what he said about the electric haze, or the coin? "And I kind of...ate it?" he said, almost apologetically.

Nurse Alloway sighed deeply. "This is the..." She flipped through her clipboard. "Seventh case like this I've had just this week. Are boys genetically wired to eat random things they find on the ground?"

"It was actually in the sea," Harold corrected, though she looked even less impressed at that. "Look, the point is, I've been feeling weird ever since. At first, a little. Now, a lot."

"Not surprising, given the fact that the water may have been polluted," she said, with a stern look. "But still, it's rather worrying that you haven't healed from it yet. Hmm...Would you mind if I take a blood sample?"

Harold hesitated again.

"It won't hurt a bit," she said soothingly.

Harold still felt uneasy, but he consented to let her take the sample. He watched in extreme discomfort as she prepared a syringe with a needle as long as his index finger. "Here, take this," said Nurse Alloway, handing him a small, turquoise pill.

Harold eyed it suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Power-dampening pill. We have to use them sometimes on other students when the risk of them accidentally activating their powers may exacerbate the problem. Or when their powers malfunction and cause the problem. It's only temporary, and completely safe. It's just to soften you up so that the needle can pierce the skin."

With some reluctance, he swallowed. Unlike the Medipill, he couldn't immediately feel the effects of this capsule, but he knew it was working. His invulnerability was being stripped from him as he sat there, leaving him as vulnerable as anyone else outside these walls.

Nurse Alloway rubbed his wrist with a cotton puff, leaving a small wet spot on his skin. Then she positioned the needle above his arm, and—

"Ow!"

"Oh, don't be a baby," said Nurse Alloway, as the little syringe filled with his blood.

"You said it wouldn't hurt," Harold said bitterly.

"Well of course I did, you wouldn't have agreed otherwise." She winked at him, then pulled the needle out and bustled over to the corner, leaving Harold rubbing his aching wrist and glaring at her back.

"I'm going back to the mainland tonight for some supplies. I'll examine your bloodwork there, and hopefully have some answers soon as to what may be happening. Until then, you can try this."

She handed him another pill, moss-green this time. "It should help with any pain you're feeling. Also completely safe."

Harold observed it with some dubiousness. Then he looked up at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you just saying that so I'll take it?"

"If I say no will that make you feel better?"

Harold sighed and swallowed the pill. It was unpleasantly crunchy, dry, and bitter. He almost spat it out, but he forced it down with the water she now handed him, emptying the bottle to wash the taste out of his mouth, and burped loudly.

"Sorry," he said, mortified, clutching his hand to his mouth.

"It's all right," the Nurse said, unable to suppress a giggle. "The pill will also make you a bit sleepy. Would you like to stay here for the day?"

The thought of being able to skip class without punishment was tempting, but his encounter here today had made him no less partisan to the Medical Wing.

"Could I stay in my room instead?"

Nurse Alloway exhaled through her nose. "If you must," she sighed. "Here, I'll write you a letter."

Harold had drifted off the moment his head touched the pillow. The pill, as Nurse Alloway had said it would, had made him drowsy midway through his walk back to the Dorms. Luckily, he managed to make it to his room just before he fell, collapsing in a heap on top of the comfortable mattress.

His dreams, however, were far less pleasant. Just as it had that morning, a shrill voice screamed in terror in his mind, spitting out harsh words like "monster!" or "abomination!"

Abomination.

He hated that word more fiercely than he hated visiting the Medical Wing. It was a cruel, vile word, used by humanity to class anything that deviated from what they considered acceptable as unnatural, even monstrous. He had seen it too many times growing up.

Hours later, he woke again to the sound of "get away!" This time, however, he was not sweating. He was burning with rage, his hands clenched on the sheets. And just like that morning, a knock came on the door to provide a swift and welcome distraction.

He considered his response. He could simply not reply, and the person—whom he had a sneaking suspicion was Jimmy—would simply leave. But then again, he didn't want to be stuck here stewing in his unpleasant thoughts again. Sitting up, he called, "It's open."

As he had expected, Jimmy entered, carrying a brown paper bag, but Helen was behind him. A surprise, given that she usually stayed away from the boy's side of the Dorm, but a welcome one anyway.

"How are you?" she said, as they closed the door and moved closer.

"Eh, still feel a little weird, but I'm fine," Harold said. "Better than this morning, even."

"Good. Brought you this," Jimmy said, and he held out the bag. Harold took it curiously and opened it: inside were three large bread rolls, several pieces of chicken, a small tub of sauce, and a bottle of pineapple juice.

"You missed dinner. I voted to wake you up, but Helen said to let you sleep. Gemma asked us if you weren't coming, and when we told her you were in Sick Bay, she just wrapped these up and gave them to us," Jimmy said.

Harold felt a sudden swell of affection for Gemma.

"Thank you." Smiling a little, he laid the contents across the bed, dipped one of the rolls in sauce, and bit off a large chunk. He was much hungrier than he had thought he would be.

"So what happened in Alloway's office?" Helen asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Harold shrugged. "Told her I ate something funny. She gave me a pill for the discomfort, took a sample of my blood, and said she'd test it when she went back to the mainland. Oh, and she stabbed me with a big needle."

"I'm sure that must have been terrifying," Helen said sympathetically.

Harold nodded absently, then realized that the dull pain in his arm had disappeared. He took a draft of pineapple juice, then ripped off the bandage she had smoothed over the needle wound and peered down. The redness of the skin had faded, and the tiny, artificial pore the needle had opened was gone. He was back to how he should be. Finally.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. So, anything interesting happen in class?"

The other two gratefully seized on the subject, because apparently they had quite a lot to tell. It was incredible how every other day this week had been similarly boring and dull, but the one time he'd been sick, the Chemistry teacher accidentally set his hair on fire, two fights had broken out, the Combat Instructor, Mr. Dreyfus, had brought them outside of the school for a practice session that involved concealing themselves in trees before they attacked, and the janitor declared his undying love for a shell-shocked vice-principal in the middle of the canteen.