Bubble Boy

Troy barely had time to register the door swinging shut before Annie's mother turned back to him, her sharp brown eyes scanning him from head to toe.

"Goodness, Troy," she gasped, stepping closer. "What happened to you?"

Troy blinked, confused for a second, before realizing what she meant. He looked down at himself, his hoodie was smeared with dirt, his jeans had a tear at the knee, and his knuckles were scraped raw. He could still feel the sting from where the Orphan had thrown him like a ragdoll.

"Oh," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "Uh… I tripped?"

Annie's mother raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

Annie snorted. "Oh yeah, tripped. Over what, a moving train?"

Sam giggled. "More like over a supervillain!"

Troy shot the little girl a look. "Sam."

She stuck her tongue out playfully.

Annie's father, a tall man with graying hair and a kind but tired face, chuckled. "You look like you've been through a war, kid. You sure you're okay?"

Troy forced a grin. "Yeah. I've had worse."

Annie rolled her eyes. "And that is concerning."

Her mother sighed. "Well, you're not leaving my house looking like that. Come on, let's clean you up. And you're staying for dinner."

Troy hesitated. "I...uh, I don't want to intrude..."

"Nonsense," Annie's mom interrupted. "You saved my daughter, didn't you?"

Troy's mouth opened, but no words came out. Annie smirked.

Her mother gave him a knowing look. "Thought so. Now, sit. I'll get the first-aid kit."

Troy was too exhausted to argue.

Fifteen minutes later, Troy sat at the kitchen table, wincing as Annie dabbed antiseptic on a cut above his eyebrow.

"You're so dramatic," she teased, dabbing again.

"Ow...okay, that one was unnecessary," he grumbled.

Sam sat across from them, watching with amusement as she munched on a piece of bread. "You two are like an old married couple."

Troy and Annie froze.

Troy sputtered, "W-we are not..."

"Shut up, Sam," Annie mumbled, cheeks turning pink.

Sam just grinned.

Annie's mother returned, holding a clean T-shirt. "Here, Troy. This should fit you better than that dirty hoodie."

Troy accepted the shirt gratefully, noting how soft it felt. "Thanks, Mrs. Flora."

She smiled. "Just call me Maria, dear."

"Uh… thanks, Maria."

Annie's dad, Mr. Flora, leaned back in his chair. "So, Troy, I hear you go to Nightingale Academy with Annie?"

Troy nodded. "Yeah. Not exactly the best experience, though."

Maria sighed, setting a plate of food in front of him. "I can imagine. That school is… intense."

"That's putting it lightly," Annie muttered.

Troy chuckled. "Yeah, well, when you're an F-class, 'intense' is just everyday life."

Mr. Flora frowned. "It's ridiculous how much they care about those rankings. A person is more than their classification."

Troy nodded. "Tell that to the people who throw me into lockers."

Annie scowled. "Don't remind me."

Sam, completely ignoring the serious mood, happily shoveled mashed potatoes into her mouth.

Maria placed a hand on Troy's shoulder. "Well, you're always welcome here, okay? I don't care if the world sees you as an F-class. To me, you're the boy who carried my daughter home."

Troy stiffened. The warmth in her voice caught him off guard.

He swallowed, looking down at his plate. "…Thanks."

Maria smiled and ruffled his messy hair.

Annie smirked. "Welcome to the family, Bubble Boy."

Troy groaned, but his chest felt strangely light.

After dinner, they all moved to the living room.

Sam sprawled out on the couch, still draped in her "cape." Annie sat next to Troy, and Mr. and Mrs. Flora sat across from them with cups of tea.

"So," Mr. Flora said, "what are your plans for the future, Troy?"

Troy blinked. "Future?"

"Yeah," Maria added. "You're in high school, any thoughts about what comes next?"

Troy hesitated. He had dreams. He wanted to change the world, to fix the system, to make heroes better. But saying that out loud? That felt impossible.

"I, uh… I don't know yet," he admitted.

Maria nodded knowingly. "That's okay. You have time."

Sam suddenly jumped onto the couch and pointed at him. "He's gonna be a hero!"

Troy nearly choked.

Annie snorted. "I mean, she's not wrong."

Troy buried his face in his hands. "I hate you both."

Maria and her husband laughed.

"You sure you don't wanna be famous?" Sam asked.

Troy groaned.

Annie grinned. "Yeah, Troy. Imagine it, 'Bubble Boy, the Greatest Hero!'"

Troy shot her a flat look. "I'd rather fight the Orphan again."

Sam gasped dramatically. "Bubble Boy vs. The Orphan! The rematch of the century!"

Troy groaned louder.

Maria just smiled. "Well, no matter what you decide, you always have a home here."

Troy blinked, looking at her. The words hit him harder than he expected.

For a long moment, he didn't know what to say.

Then, finally, he smiled.

"…Thanks."

Annie nudged him. "Told you you belonged here."

Troy didn't argue.

For the first time in a long while…

Maybe he actually did.

The night air was cool as Troy stepped outside, the scent of fresh soil and flowers lingering from Maria's garden. He turned back toward the door, where Annie and Sam stood watching him.

"You sure you don't want me to walk you home?" Annie asked, crossing her arms.

Troy chuckled. "I think I can survive the trip, thanks."

"With the way you get beat up daily, I wouldn't be so sure," she teased, but there was real concern in her voice.

Sam suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Troy's waist. "Bye, Bubble Boy! Don't die!"

Troy patted her head with a laugh. "I'll do my best."

Maria leaned against the doorway, smiling warmly. "Take care of yourself, Troy. And remember this house is always open to you."

Something tightened in Troy's chest. He wasn't used to that kind of warmth. He gave her a small nod. "Thanks, Maria. Really."

Mr. Flora gave him a firm handshake. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Troy hesitated, then nodded. "I appreciate it."

As he turned to leave, Annie smirked. "See you , Bubble Boy."

Troy groaned. "Really hoping that nickname doesn't stick."

Annie just laughed as she shut the door.

With a deep breath, Troy stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and started walking home.

Troy's apartment was small, cramped, and smelled faintly of old coffee and laundry detergent. It wasn't much, but it was home.

As he stepped inside, he heard a voice from the kitchen.

"You're late."

Troy sighed, shutting the door behind him. "Yeah, had to..." He stopped mid-sentence as his mother stepped into view.

Angela Miller was a woman in her early 40s, her dark blonde hair tied into a messy bun, dark circles beneath her eyes. She wore a faded hoodie and jeans, her expression tired but sharp. And right now, those sharp eyes were scanning him the same way Maria had.

Troy braced himself.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, frowning.

Troy looked down at himself, cleaner than before thanks to Maria, but the fresh bruises and bandages were hard to miss.

"…Tripped," he mumbled.

Angela exhaled through her nose. "Try again."

Troy scratched the back of his head. "Got into a fight."

Her jaw tightened. "With who?"

Troy hesitated. "It's… complicated."

Angela studied him for a moment before sighing. "Come sit."

He followed her into the kitchen, where she placed a bowl of leftover soup in front of him. It wasn't much, but the warmth was welcome.

"You gonna tell me the truth, or do I have to guess?" she asked, leaning against the counter with crossed arms.

Troy stirred his spoon in the soup. "I fought a villain."

Angela blinked. "Excuse me?"

Troy sighed. "The Orphan. He was trying to kidnap a girl. I… helped stop him."

Angela's expression darkened. "Troy..."

"Before you say it," he cut in, "I know it was dangerous. I know I could've died. But I had to do something."

Angela pinched the bridge of her nose. "Troy, you're an F-class. You're not built for this kind of fight. That thing could've killed you!"

Troy looked up, meeting her eyes. "Would you rather I let him kill other people instead?"

Silence.

Angela opened her mouth, then closed it. She turned away, running a hand through her hair.

Troy sighed. "Mom… I want to be a hero. A real hero. Not like the Legion."

Angela tensed. "Troy, you know how dangerous that is. You know who you'd be going up against."

Troy frowned. "Exactly why I have to do it."

Angela slammed her hands on the counter, making him jump. "Do you think he will let you?"

Troy stiffened. He knew exactly who she meant.

Starman.

The leader of the Legion. The strongest hero alive. The supposed symbol of peace, who was anything but peaceful.

Angela's voice was quiet but firm. "If you make too much noise, if you challenge the system too openly… he will notice you. And if he does, Troy..." She swallowed. "He won't hesitate."

Troy clenched his fists. "I know."

Angela stared at him, something raw and painful in her eyes. "Then why do it?"

Troy took a deep breath.

"Because someone has to."

Angela looked away. The weight of his words settled between them.

Finally, she sighed. "Just… promise me you'll be careful."

Troy gave her a small smile. "I'll try."

Angela exhaled, shaking her head. "That's the best I'm gonna get, huh?"

"Yep."

She muttered something under her breath but reached out, ruffling his hair like Maria had.

"Get some rest, Bubble Boy."

Troy groaned. "Not you too!"

Angela chuckled softly. "Goodnight, kid."

Troy watched as she walked toward her bedroom, then leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

The world was broken. The heroes were corrupt. The system was built to keep people like him down.

But tonight, for the first time in a long while…

He didn't feel alone.

And maybe, just maybe, he could change things.