Title: Enemy of My Enemy…
Rated for: T though ratings will change depending on the chapter content. I will label each accordingly.
Genre: Adventure/ Suspense/ Family/ Romance
Fandom/Universe: My Own Worst Enemy
Characters: Henry Spivey-Edward Albright, Jack Spivey, Dësmã Albright
Pairings: None.
Spoilers/Warning: None.
Disclaimer: My Own Worst Enemy and all related characters are copyright Jason Smilovic and the NBCNetwork. No infringement intended.
Summary: Congratulations, it's a girl! Only Edward didn't know and Henry wasn't prepared. Uh-oh…
Status: In-Progress
AN: This chapter is set before the events of the prologue. The next will pick up from there. I just wanted to add a little background.
Chapter: I Met Henry First.
It's a game.
How much trouble is too much trouble?
So far there hasn't been anything to 'scare them straight'.
Hmph. Like that really makes a difference in the long run.
Most of them still end up in jail, career criminals but that's their choice.
Or they end up dead.
It's the life they want and blame on everyone else; poverty, bad neighborhood, parents… it's about everyone else other than themselves. What's with the lack of responsibility with people?
Sometimes, parents get it right. What they teach their children about right and wrong sticks.
.
Henry makes a great target. He's alone, walking a nearly deserted block very late at night. Both hands are busy, one clutching at the slate-gray coat and the other a black briefcase. He's too cold to notice movement on the street, not that Henry normally pays attention to his surroundings.
There's five of them, their ages varying from seventeen to thirteen, who follow Henry to the subway. He could've taken a cab but that meant he'd wait in the cold night when the subway wasn't far and it would let him off near his hotel. He could stand a two block walk in the cold.
Henry should've taken the cab.
By the time he's stamping tingling feet on the platform waiting for his train the unintelligible voices of the teens registers. Henry glances towards them briefly, one quick glance at each of them bundled into coats and hats. The shrieking blast of a horn shoots out of the tunnel along with a freezing gust of air. Henry huddles into his coat for protection and wonders why coats that cost so much don't come with a built in heater-
"Gimme your wallet!"
Henry's slow – blame the cold or just the audacity of the kid, this pimply faced teenager demanding money from him! And he's flicking a shiny switchblade in his face.
"Dude."
Henry glances at the other kids but none make a move to stop pimples from taking another step forward.
"What?" Henry's brow furrows, his voice is a little shaky.
"Dude, let's go!"
"Your money!" the punk yells again. "Give it to me!"
Henry stumbles back-skinny as the kid might be, he's still got some strength.
"Leave him."
Henry spots the young girl coming to his defense; a coat two sizes too big for her small frame, a black knit cap covering her head and a scarf in shades of gray wrapped around her neck. She yanks on the teenager with the switchblade barely moving him at all. Henry, again, is slow to react when the teen turns on her brandishing the knife, his voice breaking on threats.
She tries to hide the wince but Henry sees it and the grip the punk has on her arm. She doesn't say another word. No excuse for being out with the looser trying to steal from innocent people- who should know better than to be out this late in certain areas of the city.
There's no terrible home-life, no 'trauma' for the choices she's making. She's unhappy with the situation and simply chooses to make a bad decision and when she sneaks into her room knowing her Mother will be waiting she makes no excuse, doesn't try lying, and doesn't even argue. It wouldn't change anything…
Henry makes a grab at the punk. There's a struggle. The kids freeze; just a moment, watching Henry tumble off the platform to land on the rails.
"Go!"
That one syllable is enough to get them moving, running feet pounding up the stairs and as far from the rich white guy about to get shredded by the subway train.
"Oh krap…" she doesn't run, not because she doesn't want to but because the old guy needs to get up or else. "Hey! Get up!" she yells and screams but he's looking all around like he doesn't recognize where he is. "The train is coming! You have to get up!"
Edward can't make out where he is, can barely get his eyes to focus and he's nauseous. But he can hear. There's a train coming and he scrambles to reach the voice calling him, yelling at him, demanding he get up.
'I'm not about to die here.' Not after all the dangerous missions…
"Come on!"
Edward feels the sharp tugs on his coat and helps pull himself up. The cold breeze finds its way through the heavy coat to bite at his skin.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yeah," Edward snarls brushing the tentative hands away from his face. "Where am I?"
"New York."
Edward doesn't miss the hesitation nor the fact the voice is much too young. He pries his eyes open and squints at the girl clutching his coat in one hand.
"Shouldn't you be in bed somewhere?" Edward snaps.
She rolls her eyes and starts to help him up no matter that Edward would rather just lie there and take a nap. He knows better. So he gets up and grudgingly uses the girl as his crutch to get back onto the street where she hails them a cab. It drops them at a hospital Edward would rather not go in but he's got no intel on a mission which means that maybe Edward isn't supposed to be Edward yet.
'Shit.' He groans to himself. 'I'm not about to puke.'
"Mr. Spivey?"
That makes the situation clearer and the nurse keeps talking to him while he's wondering if anyone knows he's awake….
.