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Enemies to Enemies


AonEne

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Hey all, I originally posted this as a Reckoners fanfic, but after incorporating various feedback, I decided to make the switch to original fiction (it wasn't hard). Here's an updated and better version, with a prequel on the way. :D

Spoiler

The knock on my door at three in the morning was a surprise. Finding my mortal enemy sitting on the doorstep with a bloody towel pressed to his forehead was an even bigger one, considering our last battle had only ended two hours ago, and I hadn’t given him the cut. 

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly, cocking his head up and smiling at me. “I know we don’t talk much, but do you have bandages? Or maybe a spare healing bracelet?” 

“I - of course I’ve got a bracelet.” I stared at him for a moment, then shook my head and reached for him. “Get in here.” Shoving him gently inside, I shut the door and walked into the bathroom as soon as I saw him plop down on the nearest sofa. “What’d you go and do, trip on the stairs, have someone run into you with a knife when you’re invisible? I hope you didn’t find someone new to torment, kid, I’ll have to go track them down if that’s the case -“ 

“I stumbled into the corner of the bathroom counter. That’s it.” I sent my vision through the walls and back to him as I rifled through the medicine cabinet to see him making an attempt at prying the towel off, then frowning. “I think this is stuck to my head.” 

I glanced through his hand and the cloth itself to where it touched his gash. “Yeah, you started scabbing over.” We’d still have to get it off him, though, to put a proper bandage on. Tugging my sight mentally back to me, I picked up a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and added it to the load in my other hand; balancing this, I walked back out to meet the gaze of a teenage boy who wasn’t trying very hard to hide the fact that he was hurting. 

Having him challenging me these last three years had not been what I’d expected out of ruling Salt Lake City. I could still remember my bemusement when, right after the speech I’d made about how I'd be a better leader than several whose conflicts tore the city apart, a fourteen-year-old of all people rose into the air above the crowd and said no. He’d come out of hiding at least once a month since then, usually more often, to fight me - sometimes literally appearing out of nowhere. 

He flickered once or twice now, face set in concentration, clearly struggling to stay visible while fighting the pain of his new injury - not to mention the bruises he’d sustained during our battle at midnight. No, I had not ever imagined my rival would be a boy half my age. But here he was, and the fool wasn’t doing a bad job at it either. Unfortunately. 

Dragging over a stool, I sat down and faced him. “This is going to make it bleed again,” I warned, but didn’t give him any time to brace before muttering “towel” and snapping my fingers. It vanished from his forehead, and I knew it had reappeared on the coffee table behind me, but I was too busy pressing fresh gauze to his wound to watch it. 

His nails dug into the cushions. “It’s not bleeding as much as I thought it would. Must not have hit anything big, eh?” His teeth clenched for a moment before he continued, “Why didn’t you call the stool over?” 

“What?” I blinked at him, then at the stool I was seated on. “This?” 

“Why didn’t you do your snap-and-say-the-word thing to call it to you? You moved it by hand instead.” 

“Oh.” I leaned forward again. “Well, I don’t know. It’s not instinctual enough, I suppose. Having magical powers for six years doesn’t replace the rest of your life. Didn’t for me, anyway. When it’s actually useful, I’ll do it, but alone in my house? Just automatic not to.” It flitted across my mind that he might try to turn this against me somehow, but I discarded the idea. There wasn't much he could do with the information.

"So." I broke the momentary silence as it pressed in, softer than the gauze I was holding. "Why'd you come to me? I'm sure you have other terrorist friends with healing bracelets, and going to one of them is bound to be safer than flying up to my door."

He tried to shrug, which didn't go very well, as he was still lying down. "They're out there, but I don't know where they live. It's a security measure, so we can't just walk to each other, in case you figure out where one of us lives and try to watch us with your clairvoyance to get to any others. So I don't know where they are, but everyone knows where you live." He didn't even mention hospitals; we both knew they were mine, and he'd be arrested there.

"So I was convenient," I said, stifling a smirk. My fingers twitched as I reached for the hydrogen peroxide. "And to think of everything I've done to make myself inconvenient. Door halfway up the side of a building and all."

He closed his eyes, but still called up a tired grin. "Sorry to spoil your untouchable dictator fantasy. I definitely stalled before deciding to come, if it helps. Politely waiting for the times we schedule when trying to murder each other does not a friend make, but it looks like I was right after all. You haven't slit my throat yet."

"What would be the point of patching you up if I went and stabbed you right after?"

"What's the point of it now? I thought you had a bracelet."

"It works slowly." I nodded at the coil of chain links on the table by the other supplies. "We need to make sure you don't bleed out before it has the chance to seal your cut. Unless you'd prefer me not to?"

"No, I'm in favor of that plan," he said sagely.

"Expected you would be." Only half-focused on the conversation, I secured the bandages and dropped the bracelet on his chest. "Here, you slide that on while I grab some pain medicine."

I could feel his glare on my back as I headed for the bathroom once again. "You had pain meds this whole time and didn't give them to me?"

"Maybe I forgot," I answered, letting out a breath of laughter. "Or maybe I was hoping you'd pass out from the pain so I could lock you up. Or maybe I just wanted to see you suffer."

"Rude," he said after a moment. "Is this because I threw you into the lake the other day?"

I scowled, remembering the fall. "Well, it wasn't...anyway, I'm giving it to you now." Returning from the bathroom, I set a bottle of pills on the coffee table, then turned into the kitchen to fill a cup with water.

I came back to discover him sitting upright and, predictably, studying the unlabeled bottle suspiciously. "What if this is poison?" He brandished it at me.

My free hand fell to my hip. "You think I'd try to poison you? Kitseh, kid, give me some credit. I wouldn't need to pull some elaborate trick to kill you."

"Which is why we've both consistently failed to end the other's life for -"

"Besides, when have you ever seen me kill someone not in self-defense, or defense of the city?"

His narrowed eyes switched to the glass wrapped in my fingers. "So what do you do with the people you arrest?"

"Exile them from the city. That's public knowledge." I matched his glare, plunking the water onto the table, then snapping the pills away from him and into my hand. Unscrewing the lid, I dumped four pills into my palm. "I'll swallow some too, does that work?"

We watched each other, equally wary, as we both downed two pills; I held his gaze, then exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "See? Pain medicine."

He reluctantly leaned back on the couch, and I sat down next to him. "Why arrest people, then, if your goal is just to send them away? They can always come back."

"And we can always kick them out again. There are other places to live; so far, people have mostly moved on rather than take the risk that I'd execute them or something." I looked to the side, holding his eyes with mine. "I won't kill someone for breaking a law. Not most laws, anyway. There's a system of punishments and it works. We didn't get these powers so we could slaughter people with them."

"Not everyone has the supplies or money to get to another city, and many are even harsher than yours," he countered, staring back unflinchingly. "And as broken as the United States are, there are still predators living out there. Animals and people both."

I found myself exhaling, flicking my gaze from one corner of the glass-topped table to the next, wordless.

"Anyway." His fingers started to drum on the armrest. "You said you'd had your powers for six years. You got them the day of the Exceeding?"

"Right then and there," I admitted.

"I was near the end of year 01," he said idly. "Who were you before you were Snap, then? When you were a regular woman with a regular life..." 

I snorted. "Are you asking for my history, kid? My name? Names are powerful things, I've learned that much! You want to tell me yours?"

"So you can teleport me onto the end of your swords? No thanks."

"Yeah, didn't think so." I yawned, and he caught it. Unsurprising - being awake at 3:10 in the morning will do that to you. For several minutes, a silence stretched like sweet taffy, then was sliced in half by another yawn from me. As much as I tried to combat it, tiredness was blanketing me faster than I'd like. To distract him from it, I swiftly posed another question. "What really hurt you?"

The kid gaped, fish-like, shaking his head slightly and moving out of his leaned-back position to sit straight again. "I told you, I hit the edge of the kitchen counter."

I pursed my lips. "You said bathroom before."

A few more heartbeats ticked by; he blinked in and out of view again before getting himself under control. 

"I wasn't joking before. If you're fighting someone new, I can go out there and bring them down." I didn't mention - and would probably never mention - that I'd already done just that to multiple newcomers who'd arrived to kill the vigilante who challenged my rule, and would challenge theirs if they took over from me. It was only common sense; they'd be coming for me next.

"It's not anyone new," he murmured around another yawn. "Or anyone I need taken care of."

"Hey." I tapped the back of his head. "Just tell me."

He dropped his head to the back of the sofa with a light huff of air. "My mom, she - she didn't take that first year so well. One of the bad guys takes away the love of her life forever, then her son chooses to go off and risk his life too?" The boy closed his eyes for a moment, looking exhausted in a way that went beyond the physical, and said nothing for a few seconds.

"Yeah?" I prompted softly.

"She loves me - I think she loves me, she thinks she loves me...she's trying to protect me -" his voice dropped, caught on the last words, tripped over itself. "- to stop me from going and fighting powerful people, and sometimes. Sometimes she gets carried away and does more than yell." He opened his eyes again and groaned at the ceiling, "It's complicated, okay, not some stereotypical 'parent drinks too much and abuses kid' setup. She has to cope too, it's not that black and white. And once or twice I've lost it and fought back. It's complicated."

"Kid," was all I could manage.

He seemed to realize the enormity of his confession, how much he'd said. "Please don't come arrest her. Just...let me deal with it, okay?"

"I - okay." Maybe. 

He sighed and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder. I leaned my elbows on my knees, propping up my head. The seconds slipped by, each of us knowing that we should be warier, that he should leave, but neither of us moving to get up.

After what could have been a minute or an hour, I whispered tiredly, "If that's how it is...why do you fight me?"

"Hm?" He didn't lift his head.

"You don't have to. I'm not chasing you down. I don't go around murdering at random. Why did you start this?"

"Oh." We were both quiet, our muted breaths keeping us on the brink of soundless. Finally: "Because you shouldn't have to live in fear. No matter how rare that fear is or what's causing it...you just shouldn't have to."

"You can't quench everything that makes anyone frightened," I said softly. "I'd argue that you shouldn't."

"I can stop some," he whispered. "And I disagree."

I said nothing in return, leaning onto the side of the armrest and closing my eyes. I had no more coherent thoughts before the sleeping pills took me.

***

Pulling the quilt closer, I wedged my face into the crack between the furniture's arm and back. A rogue feeling that I'd slept later than normal persisted. I struggled halfway upright and hazily tried to rub my eyes, but warm metal pressing into my wrists blocked the movement; I rolled over and blinked at them, waking up further, then looked at the empty couch. The empty house, I discovered when I threw my sight around.

He was gone, and he'd handcuffed me to boot.

Resisting the strong urge to lay back down and hope it all went away, I snapped my fingers irritably and grumbled, "Handcuffs." They didn't budge. Groaning, I snapped again, knowing it would be the same result - not a twitch.

He had named them something, which meant he had the authority to name them, which meant he knew a metalworker or matter manipulator. How long had that been going on? Did he have more like this? And how had he countered the pills? Groaning again, I yanked the quilt - which he must have thoughtfully taken from the hall closet and draped over my sleeping form - back over my head.

He'd been injured, in my house, and still gotten away. That eldering boy... 

Well, I’d just have to better prepare for this possibility in the future.

More feedback always appreciated! Thank you for reading, and I dearly hope you enjoy!

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That was a really fun read! I have some very minor feedback on some of the wording/phrasing if you’re interested, but it’s mostly just be me being nitpicky (hold up, nitpicky isn’t a word?). 

23 hours ago, AonEne said:

"And to think of everything I've done to make myself inconvenient. Door halfway up the side of a building and all."

Ha! This made me smile :lol:

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I finally have some time to do this properly, so let's do this! Brief disclaimer: I'm not very experienced with critiquing and everything I say is just a suggestion. I hope some of it is helpful! 

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

Finding my mortal enemy sitting on the doorstep with a bloody towel pressed to his forehead was an even bigger one, considering our last battle had only ended two hours ago, and I hadn’t given him the cut. 

I found that this sentence had a bit too much information for me to take in all at once. I'd suggest splitting it into two, but overall it's not a huge problem or anything. Additionally, I found it odd that the narrator already knows that their rival has a cut if it's being covered by the towel (I guess they could be using their see-through vision powers, but it's not mentioned)

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly, cocking his head up and smiling at me. “I know we don’t talk much, but do you have bandages? Or maybe a spare healing bracelet?” 

Later on, he seems to be in quite a bit of pain, but I don't get the sense that he is from this introduction. I'm assuming he's trying to hide it, but it felt a little inconsistent to me. I'd suggest adding in a subtle sign that all is not well, maybe a brief wince as he cocks his head up? ("Hey," he said nonchalantly, cocking his head up and smiling at me, a slight wince flickering across his expression.)

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

I sent my vision through the walls and back to him as I rifled through the medicine cabinet to see him making an attempt at prying the towel off, then frowning.

Just another minor phrasing thing, but when I first read this sentence the "back" confused me. In my head I imagined it as the narrator sending their vision through the walls and then back to their own eyes, instead of them sending it back to the other room.

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

His nails dug into the cushions. “It’s not bleeding as much as I thought it would. Must not have hit anything big, eh?” His teeth clenched for a moment before he continued, “Why didn’t you call the stool over?” 

I was confused about who is speaking in this section. Originally, I thought it was the narrator, but on a second read I think it's the boy? To me, it sounds like the narrator is hinting that they don't believe his story. Also, if you want to, I think you could also convey his pain through speech, maybe a short gasp, or one of his sentences cuts off as the towel teleports off of his face? I don't think it's mandatory seeing as the nails part already communicates this information, but it wouldn't feel out of place. 

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

"And to think of everything I've done to make myself inconvenient. Door halfway up the side of a building and all."

This makes me smile every time I read it :lol:

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

He tried to shrug, which didn't go very well, as he was still lying down.

I was confused for a bit, since I was imagining that he was sitting up the whole time. It could just be a me thing, though. If you wanted to change it, I would suggest maybe in the beginning where he plops down onto the sofa, a little bit could be added so it would read as something like "I saw him plop down on the nearest sofa, head against the cushions/armrest/that place on the sofa where you usually sit". Or maybe "I saw him plop down on the nearest sofa, not even bothering to sit up properly." Okay I think you get the idea I'm going to stop now.

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

"Maybe I forgot," I answered, letting out a breath of laughter. "Or maybe I was hoping you'd pass out from the pain so I could lock you up. Or maybe I just wanted to see you suffer."

More nitpicky stuff that probably doesn't matter, but when I read this aloud to myself, it felt more natural to laugh before the "Maybe I forgot." Honestly, I feel like a smirk/sly smile is more appropriate than a laugh, but that's just my personal preference. Or I could just be doing the laugh incorrectly.

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

"Rude," he said after a moment. "Is this because I threw you into the lake the other day?"

I scowled, remembering the fall.

Another personal preference thing that you can definitely ignore, but I feel like the water would leave a more lasting impression than the fall ("I scowled, remembering the icy plunge."?) (then again, we don't know what the fall was like, so my whole point could be invalid). Orrrrrrrrrrrr maybe a small element of humour because damp clothes are annoying and relatable which humanises the narrator more? "I scowled, remembering the soggy trip back to my apartment. He'd ruined my favourite [item of clothing], too." Or you could just leave it as is, it's really not a big thing. 

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

"Besides, when have you ever seen me kill someone not in self-defense, or defense of the city?"

I found this sentence a little tricky to read, since the "not" tripped me up. (This could also just be a me thing though). It could be changed to "Besides, when have you ever seen me kill someone outside of self-defense, or defense of the city?" (only if you want to, of course).

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

I found myself exhaling, flicking my gaze from one corner of the glass-topped table to the next, wordless.

I like! 

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

I yawned, and he caught it. Unsurprising - being awake at 3:10 in the morning will do that to you.

I only just thought about this now, but it would be interesting to see more about how the narrator feels about being woken up in the middle of the night, since I don't get the sense that they are up this late ordinarily. Are they annoyed or grumpy, still groggy from sleep? Does this change when they realise who's at the door? Or are they immediately alert, ready for danger? This could be in the opening, or interspersed throughout the text.

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

For several minutes, a silence stretched like sweet taffy, then was sliced in half by another yawn from me.

I really like this, but sweet taffy brings connotations of, a nice, relaxed silence. I don't know if that's what you were going for, and it still works if that is the case, just wanted to bring it to your attention in case you wanted it to be a bit more tense or awkward.

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

He had named them something, which meant he had the authority to name them, which meant he knew a metalworker or matter manipulator. How long had that been going on? Did he have more like this? And how had he countered the pills? Groaning again, I yanked the quilt - which he must have thoughtfully taken from the hall closet and draped over my sleeping form - back over my head.

I really like this too -- it raises questions. Did he plan this all from the beginning with the intent to trap her? Or did he see an opportunity and take it? It exposes a more devious side of him that we may not have gotten before, and it's a somewhat jarring reminder that they're still enemies. (I don't know why I typed that all out, seeing as you probably already know that)

On 10/29/2020 at 0:47 PM, AonEne said:

Well, I’d just have to better prepare for this possibility in the future.

I don't have any problems with this, it's a solid closing line, but just as a suggestion, something about her getting him back (in a lightheartedish way, not like going to kill him or anything) could be fun. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Well, he'd better watch his back." But that's just a suggestion (and another me thing).

Also, just a general comment, but I think there could be some more variation of sentence lengths, as I think most of them are quite long. The writing still flows nicely despite this though!

All in all, it's a really fun and engaging story, and I enjoyed both characters and their relationship with one another. I think you explored it really well, and I'm excited to read to prequel :D 

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