A/N: So, real quick. This is a READER-INSERT and there is sort of a prequel I'm writing along side this story about Henry's life called "The Life and Times of Henry." It's not required to read to understand this, because they are both being written at the same time. It's just there to give my little head cannon on Henry.

I have this story pretty much mapped out in my head, just got to get it down.

I'm going to try my best to make sure that the Reader is not OP or Mary-Sueish. I'm giving her flaws to try to even out her inability to feel both fear and pain.

Yes, I am using two characters I used in another, unrelated fic. The two fics do not correlate, I just like my characters and I'm to lazy to create two totally new ones when I want the same personalities. Basically, I'm lazy.

Enjoy!

Prologue

"The Powers That Be" tended to flip-flop on what kind of hand you should be dealt with. Sometimes the cards they gave you were a blessing; loving and caring parents, good friends, no financial issues, artistic talent, and passing grades. Life would be great, if The Powers that-just-won't-leave-you-the-fuck Be didn't turn around and give you a rotten hand; such as your health.

Your body was pretty much in good condition. No failing organs, no abnormal cell growth, nothing truly hospital worthy, but that could change at the turn of a dime.

See, you were born with the inability to feel, or more correctly react appropriately, to pain. Pressure could be felt, so could temperature, but you didn't react like you should. You didn't cry, you didn't flinched, you didn't do anything. In fact, you never could tell when something painful happened to you.

The doctors said you had congenital insensitivity to pain, or CIP for short. This lead to you parents being overly attentive and concerned for you well being. They were always worried you would be one of the people who died in childhood because of your condition. Especially after that one time you fell out of a tree and walked away with broken ribs, and some pretty severe gashes, without knowing anything was wrong with you.

And your health issues didn't end there.

It was sometime around your seventh birthday when your second "issue" was discovered. It was amazing that it was found out at all, since you didn't experience many of it's physical symptoms, and what you did could be easily mistaken for your constant mishaps with your CIPs.

You were just going in for a CT scan to see if you had fractured your skull in your latest incident when an eagle-eyed technician spotted something rare. Or, well, even rarer than CIP.

Calcification centered around your medial temporal lobes. Closer examination showed that your amygdala was utterly destroyed. Tests showed that while you still experienced most emotions you could no longer feel fear.

You were fearless and could not feel pain.

And for a child, for anyone really, that was dangerous to your wellbeing.

Your friends and family got even more protective of you after that diagnosis.

This lead to your parents deciding it would be best to be brutally honest with you when teaching you about the world, and to not sugar coat anything for you. Despite how much it hurt them they figured it was better to have you worried, which was the closest to fear that you could get, and vigilant than naive and careless.

It was repeatedly drilled into your head what was considered "good" and "bad."

1) You shouldn't go up to hug random strangers without someone you knew, because you never know if that person will use you the way no child should. No matter if they offered you candy or pleas to help find their lost dog. Doing that is "bad."

2) If someone points some kind of weapon at you or a loved one that is bad and it would be best to get away as fast as you can, and don't forget to call the cops because you wouldn't want that to happen to someone you knew, they, or you, could be killed! And that would make mommy and daddy very sad. Which would "bad."

3) If there is anything going through your skin it's more than likely "bad" and should be dealt with accordingly.

4) Blood oozing for more than fifteen seconds is more than likely "bad" and should be dealt with accordingly.

5) No matter how interesting or cute any creature is, stay a good distance away. They may try to hurt you and no one would be able to get you to a hospital in time. Also "bad."

6) No matter how much someone bugs you don't take the drugs or drink they offer, you have enough problems to worry about. Doing so is "bad."

7) Going anywhere alone is "bad," because the world is mean to girls who go to places alone.

8) If you don't know if something is "good" or "bad" call the people in your contacts, they'll set you right. If they can not be reached call 9-1-1 and explain your situation.

Your parents even helped you remember the types of faces people make when scared, uncomfortable, or in pain, which helped you out a lot when it came to figuring out social cues. You weren't up to par to most people, but you were good enough to function in most settings. And if you tripped up, that's what your friends were for.

Devon and Ryan, your childhood friends who took it upon themselves to help you not kill yourself. They both understood that you couldn't truly comprehend some things, no matter how hard you tried, and you were forever thankful for them. You're certain that if they weren't in your life to prevent you from doing something "not good," you'd probably be dead by now.

They, and your parents, all helped you survive to your current age of twenty, almost twenty-one.

You were in college now, had been for almost four years, alongside your two friends. The three of you had decided upon the same school, one that would suite all of you, and, with some help from your and Ryan's parents, were renting a decent sized house nearby.

That was a good thing that was dealt you, the fact the your mother was a high-profile defense attorney, and that she was more than willing to lend you three money for a house until you all could get decent jobs.

Ryan's parents would help when they could, but they needed the money more often than not. Devon's parents, on the other hand, refused to help their son in any way, shape, or form as long as he continued to hang out with his "hellbound" friends.

Devon's parents were against the idea of their son living with a women he wasn't married to, especially one with your….. abnormalities , and with a guy whose "sinned" as much as Ryan has. It was a good thing Devon was old enough to make his own decisions concerning where he lived.

The three of you found it hilarious how many people believed you were sleeping together in some kind of polyamorous relationship.

Well, you and Ryan did, Devon found it a nuisance seeing as any girl he went after either didn't want to chance the rumors being true or hoped that they were.

You were just good friends who decided it was easier to function as adults together than alone. Nothing more, nothing less, but it seemed not many people were inclined to believe any of you.

Despite everything, your life was good. It just came with a few extra hardships, but that's what made everything interesting.

And then Life, The Powers That Be, or whatever you want to call them decided to throw another curve ball at you in the form of a dare.

You never should of left home.

A/N: Let me know what you think!

See a mistake? Please let me know! I'm lazy a hell and tend to miss things when I look over chapters. Plus I have moments where it seems like I don't know English.