A/N: This is a rewrite of a few scenes from I Am Number Four. (Remember John shutting the poster over Henri's face?) Based on the movie; it's been awhile, and Wikipedia. I hope you enjoy.
1- Arriving at the house
I DO NOT OWN "I AM NUMBER FOUR"
Henri's POV
We arrived that afternoon, weary and stiff from the long car ride. He had been leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed. I knew well enough that he wasn't asleep and I knew that when he was like that it wasn't good to disturb him. At the very least I could be thankful that he didn't get carsick. Or mess with the radio, or wet the bed, or any of the million other things that could have gone wrong. He was a good kid and I was happy. But I knew that there would be tough times ahead. Every kid had a breaking point, and Daniel was no exception. I relished the good times and prepared for the hard ones ahead.
The house was no looker as it was old and worn. I missed the last one. There were sheets of raining pouring down into the worn dirt driveway, making a big lake of mud. I pulled the car in. Daniel was going to love this spot, after our last spoiled retreat beside the ocean with a hot babe on every towel. But he'd seen the consequences on that fateful night on the beach. This was conspicuous and besides, I had business here.
Daniel groaned and stretched, jumping out of the car. He grabbed some bags and hurried inside the house. I shut the trunk and followed.
"Next time I pick the house," he said, checking out the narrow halls and cramped rooms.
"Sure," I said, dumping some stuff. The place was a little creepy and I almost called out to stop him from going up the stairs. That would have gone down well. Teenagers": WARNING-volatile and spastic. Unpredictable. Stupid. And just plain weird on occasion. I settled for turning on some lights and setting the briefcases of equipment down in the kitchen. The bay window would work for surveillance.
Finished, I grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it from the tap. Taking a swig, I swished it around in my mouth. It was musty and tasted like cheap silverware that hasn't been washed in a while. The pipes were probably old, but I could taste poison and this water was safe. I gargled loudly and swallowed, finishing the glass. Coming from Lorien it's hard to forget how important water is. Watching the shower run, or a sprinkler, my breath catches in my chest. At first I could spend hours just watching the rain. Now we don't time for that. Daniel's growing up, and the Mogadorians get closer every day. I'm afraid for what's to come. Number 3 is gone and we aren't safe anymore.
I set the glass down and kicked my shoes off. Picking them up I trudged upstairs with my bag. The upstairs was typical for an old house- a dingy, narrow bathroom, a shallow linen closet, master bedroom, and two cramped back bedrooms looking out behind the house. Daniel had claimed one, and I stepped into the other, peeking through a hole in the plaster at him. He was leaning over the bed, and when he saw me he gave a drastic sigh and shoved a poster over the gap. I ignored the gesture and sat on the bare mattress. There was a long dresser crammed against the bed and a wall of baseball cards. Whoever had lived here before must have been in a rush to leave. I gazed out at a tree.
We went to bed early that night. Daniel was closeted in his little annex, with a chair under the door. I didn't like that but he needed a little time to himself and there was no helping it short of forcing him. Instead I retired to the kitchen to set up the monitors and electronics that served as surveillance. There wasn't any food in the house, but I made Top Ramen on the little gas stove and ate at the table. I thought about calling Danny to eat, but I figured he wouldn't. He never has an appetite for the first while in a new place.
I took my laptop to bed. I showered in the yellow bathroom and coaxed Daniel to take the chair away and say goodnight.
"You're sulking you know," I said mildly, flipping on the lamp and sitting on the bed.
"Brooding." He muttered.
"What?"
"-You heard me, b****d."
"Sure, sure. You could've made my bed for me."
"Coulda." What manners he had, what nerve.
"Well, Sunny D, I guess I'll go, since you want me gone so bad."
"Yes!" He muttered, shifting and pulling his head out of the pillow.
I reached over and patted his head.
"Good night kiddo. See ya in the morning"
"'Night Henri," he whispered.
I turned away, shutting the door behind me. He can't sleep without the door shut, because of fear that someone will come in. I can't sleep with mine closed, knowing that something could happen to him.