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When The Sun Hits: Johnny Storm x Reader pt3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (AO3)

Summary: As Reed Richard’s most brilliant physicist, Johnny Storm supposed you were off limits. But when a cosmic entity who threatens to consume your planet appears, he realizes he needs to at least tell you how he feels before it's too late.

Wc: 9.7k

Cw: mild violence/blood/death.

A/N: I'm also sooo sorry that its taken me so long to update, I hope t get the final part out faster. Life is so busy forgive me and enjoy<3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

Despite everything you had claimed beforehand, nothing compared to being stuck in the moment. Responsibility weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you were terrified.

From inside the Baxter building, you were anxiously monitoring the quantum flux stabilizer, affirming Reed’s calculations through an earpiece as you stared at the massive holographic screen.

The only sound heard was a relentless metallic rasping that echoed through the room. You stood ten feet from the control dais, feeling both small and insignificant in the dimly lit room dominated by the looming machinery. The rasping noise grew louder and more piercing with each cycle, a twisted chant reverberating in the stillness. Beneath it, the tap of your heels on the tile seemed almost futile, a mere whisper against the commencement of the teleportation process.

As the quantum flux stabilizer drew more energy, the lights throughout the room flickered, signaling the strain on the building’s power systems. It felt as though the machinery was a star inhaling, its immense pull threatening to consume every electron in sight.

Only one stabilizer remained, just above Subterranea, where millions cowered, powerless. People like you, just less privileged.

The Baxter building suddenly shuddered as the immensity of Galactus collided with the Earth. The backup generator kicked in and alarms blared. Metal groaned from the building’s shifting structure under the impact.

Your heartbeat was deafening as you bolted out onto the balcony, hands gripping the railing. The wind tore at your hair as you brought one hand to shield your eyes from the sun, scouring for Johnny in the sky.

This was the new plan, possibly onto plan D at this point, where Johnny would hand you Franklin when Galactus was distracted, and you would flee. It was all you could do. The last resort was now the only resort.

Anything but that. Anything but fleeing with Franklin and leaving the ones you loved behind.

You would honor their wish, but it still felt wrong, it didn’t feel real. Even just the possibility of this family no longer being in your life terrified you. In a short amount of time, they had become everything to you. You still had so much to do, so much to accomplish. So much to experience. A whole life to live, filled with love that you wanted to spread, love that you wanted to share with this family.

Yet your heartbeat insisted this was different, and that it had a strange finality and it was infinitely more terrifying.

“Secured the child, heading your way Y/N!” Johnny’s voice crackled in your ear above the wind battering against you.

Regardless of your anxiety, you surprisingly found yourself laughing from the sheer relief of the fact that he was okay, at least for now.

“In position,” you replied, managing to smile once his burning silhouette appeared in contrast to the clear blue sky.

Suddenly, with Johnny nearby, you felt safe, wanting to fall into his arms, flames and all.

Never had you felt that way. That was why you were there. For Johnny, before anyone else, before anything else. The realization had frightened you before. But now, as you stood amidst the chaos, with death an imminent specter, you felt an intense heat rise within you, echoing your fear and resolve. It pulsed in your chest, a fiery reminder of what was at stake, urging honesty in a moment when every emotion was laid bare.

“This is insane!” you yelled. “You're insane!”

He laughed. “I know, and you’re doing amazing!”

As Johnny handed the cradle to you, you stared deep into his glowing eyes, corneas that reminded you of molten lava, accepting the responsibility with urgency. “Don’t do anything stupid, Johnny,” you said. “For us.”

Us. Johnny hesitated. His eyes softened at your insistence. What a dream.

With your free hand, you instinctively started to reach for Johnny. You felt the heat emanating off of him, savoring the feeling in case it was the last time.

But in return, he pulled back. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t want to hurt you.

Johnny recovered quickly, though. “Only because the most beautiful girl in the world said so,” he teased in response, mock saluting you before shooting back up into the sky.

As your ears heard the rumble of his flames long after he was out of sight, your smile faded. This wasn't fair. It was all going according to plan. Even if Franklin was in your arms, and Galactus was approaching the hidden wormhole, your gut still twisted in resistance.

The soul was a very powerful thing, and yours was screaming no.

Snapping you from your thoughts, Franklin cooed softly. Taking a deep breath, you gazed down at him as he pawed at your hair that swayed in the breeze, entirely oblivious to what was unfolding around him, what each of you were doing to protect him.

“Don’t worry,” you replied, lightly poking at his wrist until he released your hair.

Franklin giggled, so innocent that it warmed your heart.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” you promised, smiling sweetly at him despite the fear rising in your chest. You couldn’t shake the dread, convincing yourself that you were just paranoid and not going mad.

But you knew this wasn’t going to work.

Stillness filled the city, broken only by the occasional rumble of Galactus’s gargantuan foot falls. The building shuddered in concert.

To combat the rising terror, Herbie began to hum a song as you paced with Franklin, bouncing him on your hip to calm both of you.

You heard an explosion. Then felt the aftershock of another.

A moment passed… nothing happened. Not that you would know, for all you could make out were their directions.

Then, in your earpiece, you heard Ben curse.

“He’s going for Franklin!” Sue yelled.

“Y/N, retreat!” Johnny screamed, his voice cracking over the comms, his voice nearly drowned out by a sudden, closer explosion that shook the building.

Each tremor was closer than the last, and your stomach dropped, knowing that it was Galactus trampling through buildings to get to Franklin—to you.

With adrenaline pumping in your ears, all the light from outside vanished as the doomsday fortifications slid into place.

Franklin started to cry, likely sensing your panic and helplessness. As Herbie zipped toward the elevator, you fought to steady your hands, placing Franklin into his cradle and sealing the visor shut.

You were only human, hardly protected by anything but an old suit that Sue could no longer fit into, and a blaster holstered to your thigh. But what could a gun do against a cosmic deity?

You hurried after Herbie toward the elevator as Franklin’s cries grew louder, rising with each rushed step.

Suddenly, the windows shattered before the elevator doors could open. Galactus's massive hand reached in and plucked you and Franklin, still in his cradle, straight out of the building.

You screamed as Galactus lifted you four hundred stories above the ground, your body weightless and arms locked desperately around Franklin’s cradle—the only thing between you and oblivion.

That was until you were hit with a cosmic blast, a ray of energy that you couldn't see, only feel. It stung and bubbled across your skin like acid rain, seeping into your cells with a fizzling burn. The air was sharp with the taste of ozone, and the metallic tang clung to your tongue. It paralyzed you, etching another blare of pain from your throat as Franklin was pried from your grasp.

The baby cried for you, for help, so loudly that you began to sob in return.

“My salvation.” Galactus’s voice rumbled through every atom, pressing down on you.

“Stop!” you screamed, helpless as you watched Galactus open the cradle, gently bringing Franklin out of it and into his palm.

All you could think about was how desperately you’d failed Franklin and his family. Your chest heaved for air, your eyes wide as tears escaped your ducts. The atoms were pressing around you, and it felt like you were suffocating.

Death. You saw death. A bright light, a few seconds into the future.

In your last moments, as your eyelids grew heavy, you hazily watched Galactus turn his attention toward you. Glowing purple eyes, like a void, seemed to gaze into the inner machinations of your soul.

“How strange,” Galactus stated with a tinge of amusement, his voice rattling the damaged beams and broken glass behind you. “Perhaps I can make use of you—”

Snap!

You felt something break within yourself. It was violent. But it was quick…painless. Then, you were immaterial, out of your body, somewhere you’d never been before. Bodyless, formless, standing before a golden orb that filled the void. Its particles flowing all around you.

Worthless. That was your final thought. Disposed of like vermin, an inconvenience, like the billions of lives on this planet that would soon join you. You were merely a pheasant shot down during a fox hunt. Your death was purely a surplus. Collateral.

The gentle presence calmed you. A light to lead you back where you were needed.

Suddenly, you felt solid ground beneath your feet, although you couldn’t see.

You steadied yourself, reaching up to touch your face, still damp with tears, keeping your gaze on the billowing golden light.

“Am I dead?” you managed to sound.

“You are in flux.”

A deep, female voice replied from the golden mass, the particles stirring in response, moving closer to you.

“What are you?” you asked, taking a step back.

“I am from beyond.”

You glanced around, instinctively looking for an escape, before an invisible force pulled your head back forward.

“Do not be afraid,” it soothed, each word resonating with a celestial harmony. “I am here to help.”

“Whats going on?” you whispered, holding your hands out in front of you and turning them over. Your skin glittered with a particle you couldn’t classify. “I don’t understand—”

"You can serve a greater purpose to wield a power few will ever achieve. The potential for more is within you, and you have been chosen,” The entity spoke with an ethereal cadence, as if each syllable was imbued with ancient wisdom.

“What is it?”

“An ancient magic.”

“I need more of an explanation than that.”

“You will understand in time.”

“Why me?”

“Your heart is untainted.” The golden mass swayed slightly. “A rarity”

You almost scoffed.

“Believe me or not, young one, it’s far beyond your comprehension. You are the key that will help bring balance to the multiverse, no matter the path you take. We do not have much time. The force awakening within you is rare, but not unheard of.”

“Force?”

“We would prefer to cross paths when you are more mature.” It almost sighed. “But we are in the process of mending an incursion.”

You were unsure whether to take that as an insult or not. At your hesitation, the golden light particles began to surround you.

“What do you choose, Y/N?” It echoed in question, waiting but impatient. “Do you desire eminence over life, or dominion over death?”

Death’s embrace felt so alluring. But what purpose would you find in death?

“Life.”

The being hummed in approval, and for a moment, you felt complete and utter bliss as the light flowed into you, soaking into your veins and mingling with your blood. It felt like a kiss from God himself, the hug of a thousand angels welcoming you home. Even if it was death, you could die satisfied.

The light was no longer surrounding you, but inside of you.

“You will have no recollection of this deal.” Its words reverberated through your mind. In the back of your consciousness, you felt a strange tingling, but it went unnoticed as your hands fell to your sides, your skin still buzzing with the warmth.

“Why?” You asked in panic. “Will I ever know?”

“When the time is right.”

In your last exhale, you uttered, “Thank you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

As you fell, Johnny immediately caught you.

He could hardly breathe, in a panic-riddle daze as he retreated with your limp body in his arms. Hastily, he brought you inside a leveled building for shelter, laying you down as if you were made of glass.

You felt changed. From one touch he could sense it.

Gently, and still on fire, Johnny reached for your hair and brushed it away from your closed eyes, untangling the messy strands from your eyelashes. His fire did not burn you, even though it melted the destruction around you.

You were different, and he didn’t know if you would ever forgive him for being too late.

“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry…” he whispered, rambling on as his eyes scoured you for any injuries. Nothing, nothing but your peaceful expression, your perfect skin, and the faint, yet steady, beat of your heart.

You were alive, and that was what mattered. And when you would eventually wake up, he just hoped you would understand that it was all for you.

His flames fizzled out, and the roar followed, leaving him hunched over you in an eerie silence.

“I have to break our promise, Y/N,” he said for nobody but himself, to ease that burden, to stop the fear rising in his chest, to remind himself that this was for you and his family. You had already done so much for them, and it was his time to repay that favor.

With tears welling in his eyes, with every atom in his body screaming to stay, Johnny gently pressed his lips to your forehead.

For you, he would gladly sacrifice his own life. Not that he wanted to, no, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you if given the chance. But that didn’t seem likely.

One last time, Johnny reached for you and curled your body into his. He inhaled your scent, and relished in the warmness of your being. A sob raked through him, as he cried into your shoulder, wishing you could talk to him, wishing you could comfort him or give him advice like you always did.

It wasn’t fair. He just wanted to be with you, and he may never be able to live that wish.

“I love you.”

He kissed your cheek, resting his forehead against the side of your face. His tears fell against the fabric of your suit, but you didn’t stir.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, I’m sorry for being such an idiot.” He kissed you on the lips, wishing you would kiss him back one last time.

“Please forgive me.”

Johnny had to save his family. His nephew. His love, you.

He would fight until your last breath.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

When you finally snapped awake minutes later, you were lying on the ground floor, in the midst of chunks of rubble, but cradling you was a pile of soft, fine sand.

Your heart knew that it was Johnny's doing.

As you steadied yourself, you pawed at the sand, sliding it through your fingers. You couldn’t remember what happened, numbly taking in your surroundings, apprehensively moving your neck in soothing circles.

Finally standing up, you stumbled slightly. But there was no pain; your muscles felt more alive and sturdy than ever.

Then, your earpiece crackled.

“Tell Franklin that uncle Johnny loves him.”

The silence was deafening, the trepidation sinking deep within your gut.

“…And tell Y/N that I'm sorry.”

Barely awake, you panicked at Johnny’s words, stepping over chunks of rubble and climbing over a broken wall and out onto the street. No, no—anything but that. What did he mean?

It was empty, but you searched and searched for them, racing down city block after city block. There was no distant rumbling of Johnny’s flames, there were no voices, movements, or even a cry from Franklin. Your heart was pounding, your body was shaking, and your worst fears were threatening to become a reality.

Tears were streaming down your face at that point but you continued to sprint past the fatigue, running faster than you ever had before, screaming Johnny’s name without realizing it.

Until finally, a few blocks down, you spotted them huddled up together.

Alive.

Your shoulders slumped forward in relief, your knees threatening to buckle.

“Johnny!” you cried, starting to run again, but you just couldn’t.

At the sound of your voice, he turned, squeezing his sister’s shoulder before darting over to you.

He met you before you stumbled, letting you lean against him to muster up the rest of your strength. As you caught your breath, his eyes grazed over your body for any injuries. There was blood on your suit, but otherwise, you looked okay, not a scratch on your face, as beautiful as he had left you.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

Finally, you lifted your head, meeting his perfect blue eyes that were wide with an indescribable emotion of surprise and relief, as if he had finally seen you, an oasis in his desert. But his eyelids were red and raw, a type that could only come from crying.

There was still so much uncertainty racing through your mind, but you were certain that Johnny had cried for you. Whatever the hell just happened had changed you. Maybe he thought you were dead, maybe you had been. But that didn’t excuse the sacrifice he had intended to make.

Johnny was a lot of things, but he was also selfless, he always put those he loved first. And you had almost lost him because of it.

“Please say something,” he urged, reaching for you. But before he could, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

It wasn’t harsh, but harsh enough to silence the entire family. That slap was more than just a scolding; it carried the weight of your fear and relief. You were angry, but also happy, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Maybe Johnny should have realized that sooner, but he was just relieved to see you unharmed and awake. Nothing else mattered.

“Don’t you ever try to do something like that again!!” you yelled, but when he reached for you anyway, the frustration turned into sadness, and you began to sob violently.

Tears began to freely stream down your face, and Johnny gently wiped them away with his gloves.

“Stop crying for me,” he said. “I’m right here.”

You threw your arms around his neck in apology, stifling a sob into his chest. You practically melted into him as his arms encircled you tightly, as if it would be possible for anything to take you away from him.

“You promised me, Johnny,” you reminded, tone softer, sadder.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

“Are you alright?” Johnny questioned, hand caressing the back of your head as he held you against him. You were trembling for him and his safety.

“I think so,” you said, voice muffled against his chest. “You’re still here.”

Your words caused Johnny’s yearning for you to pang even deeper.

Once you pulled away, you gazed up at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry for slapping you, I-”

“It's okay,” Johnny interrupted. “I shouldn't have broken our promise, after all.”

“Never again,” you said, firmly.

“I swear.”

With one last look, your attention quickly turned to Sue and Reed, cradling a newly content Franklin, who was cooing softly, gripping onto his mother’s shoulder. You broke away from his hold and joined them.

“What was that about?” Ben asked, leaning down to mumble into Johnny’s ear.

“I don’t know, but it was hot,” he chuckled, gaining a nudge of approval from Ben before they joined the rest of the group.

As you bent down next to Sue, she smiled at you. Somehow, you could sense that Sue had died. But she was revived. You felt similarly, for some unexplainable reason. The two of you gazed at each other before she finally spoke.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “There’s not a scratch on you.”

Diagnostically, Reed was also watching your every move. Something had happened to you while he was distracted. He couldn’t quite explain it, but it was something unique. Why the planet conqueror hadn't killed you, he couldn't quite figure out.

As Reed absently adjusted his suit, his eyes caught a fleeting reading on his handheld device—an energy spike at 9.8 terajoules—it was something strange, something different. Quietly, he pocketed the data, deciding to analyze it further when calmer heads prevailed.

“What happened up there, Y/N?” Reed asked, his tone softer. His gut told him that those strange readings had to do with you.

Hesitantly, you glanced at all of them, your eyes eventually settling on Franklin.

You were protecting him. You were…

The last thing you remembered was pain, the dark, and the endless purple glow of Galactus’s eyes.

There was nothing, only a void that threatened to consume you. But it didn’t.

“I… I don’t know-” You words stopped short.

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

Within days, the city had been rebuilt. The people moved on fast, yet a part of you couldn’t. No matter how badly you wanted to pretend, things were different for you. Even if you went through the motions, busying yourself with miscellaneous tasks to take your mind off of it all, that ever-present voice haunted you, echoing in the quiet spaces between your thoughts.

Death was no longer a stranger in your life.

But even then, it wasn’t fully there. It was fuzzy, on the tip of your tongue, as if someone had reached into your brain and severed any possible fragment.

And behind your eyelids, a golden light danced. It didn’t taunt, it was warm, beckoning, but impossible to name. Your mind was a blank canvas, interrupted only by fleeting, tangled flashes that left you reaching for meaning.

Galactus and his voice—Franklin’s screams. How you had felt insubstantial and powerless.

Your weakness.

Your death.

Your rebirth.

At night, you would wake drenched in sweat, your muscles and bones aching for familiarity. Every breath you took felt precious. The phantom pains were the worst part, as you couldn’t recall what caused the injuries your flesh remembered, but not your mind.

But as the weeks passed, you started to feel better, the nightmares were few and far between, and you were grateful for each moment you could spend with Johnny and his family.

Tonight, you and Johnny had opted for a lazy night in. You had drifted off to sleep as a movie Johnny had already seen a hundred times played in the background.

“The best part is coming up, Y/N,” he whispered, nudging you gently with his arm but keeping his attention focused on the tv. It didn’t wake you.

Over the movie’s chatter, he hardly caught your whimper, a sound sharp with fear, not the playful kind he loved to coax from you.

Johnny gently pulled the blanket higher, thinking you were cold. But as he shifted, your hand latched tighter to his shirt, anchoring him to you.

“No!” you suddenly groaned in frustration.

Johnny stilled, finally peeling his eyes away from the tv to peer down at you. “No what, babe?” he asked, wondering if you were just groggy and talking in your sleep.

“He’s…” You twitched; your eyes were moving incredibly fast. “He’s just…a baby…” You forced out, starting to pant heavily, your grip loosening then tightening into a fist so hard you almost scratched his skin.

“Y/N,” Johnny called your name in a soft tone, and the hand that wasn’t curled underneath you reached out to brush the hair away from your face.

But his touch only made you grimace, and more twitches jolted through your body. Your chest expanded in deep gasps before a broken cry escaped from you.

“Hey,” Johnny said, untangling himself from your clutches and hovering over you, shaking you a bit more firmly. “Wake up!”

“S-Stop!” you cried, jolting awake, thrashing as if fighting off invisible hands.

“I’m dead, I died!” you screamed in fear, clinging to Johnny’s arms, desperate to feel grounded, and he held firm, soothing you with quiet words, guiding you gently back to the cushion.

You stared at him, eyes wide and haunted, breath coming in ragged bursts as if you’d glimpsed something from beyond. For a moment, Johnny thought your eyes glimmered with an unfamiliar light—but maybe it was just the TV’s glow caught in your tears.

“Y/N, look at me,” he brushed the hair away from your suddenly slick forehead. “It’s okay, you’re here, you’re alive, this is real."

He cupped your jaw, drawing your face to his, waiting patiently as your breath slowed and your body finally softened into his embrace.

Your hands burned, heat pulsing through your skin until your whole body felt ablaze. Was it fever, or something stranger stirring inside you?

“Johnny…” You finally whispered, still in a daze. Meeting his eyes, your lip quivered. “Did I wake you?”

“Are you alright?” he asked, pulling away to let you sit up in his lap. He watched you carefully, waiting for you to respond.

“Just a nightmare…” You murmured, voice thin as you swallowed the truth. You could barely face it yourself, let alone burden him with it.

But the way he looked at you made it impossible to hide anything from him. There was so much worry in his expression.

He was there, steadfast, ready to catch you if you fell. And you were.

“Tell me later,” Johnny said, his eyes leaving your face for a moment to look down the hallway, sensing that the two of you were no longer alone.

Around the corner, the rest of the family had been aroused by your screams, lingering around the corner in a mix of panic and curiosity.

“Just a nightmare guys!” Johnny shouted. “Everything’s okay, I got it handled.”

You shook your head, murmured an apology, and melted back into Johnny’s arms.

Relief washed over you, thick and sweet, as sleep tugged at your eyelids.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I won't leave your side, Y/N.” Johnny promised. “Have only sweet dreams this time.”

He was real. You were alive. You breathed in his scent and let your heartbeat match his, drifting back to sleep to the steady drum of his chest.

A few minutes later, Reed walked into the living room.

“Is she okay?” He asked Johnny quietly, in a conscious effort not to wake you.

Though Johnny nodded, he couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t telling him the whole truth. Your slumber-addled smile told him you were content, but that didn’t speak of the past. You never exaggerated, but your true thoughts were shrouded. It took immense effort on his part to make you feel safe, especially after all that happened. He didn't think you remembered everything, but you had a habit of bottling things in.

The archived trauma was now rearing its head in your dreams—the dreams that made you scream, the change in your demeanor, and your apprehension.

All he wanted was to help you.

“She had a nightmare, but I think it was a memory,” he paused, remembering the words you had mumbled, the fear in your voice. “From Galactus.”

Your breathing remained steady.

With concern etched in his expression, Johnny met Reed’s eyes. It hurt him that you were struggling, and it hurt that you couldn’t tell him. If Johnny couldn’t help you, he desperately needed someone else to.

“She said that she died.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

A few days later, Sue was the one to get the truth out of you.

The boys were out helping the civilians rebuild. Sue had wandered around the building, still finding spots that needed renovation. As a creature of habit, she had expected to find you in the lab, but you weren’t there.

Instead, you were cuddled up on the couch again, reading a textbook with a vinyl playing quietly in the background. You were so engrossed that you only lifted your head when you heard Franklin sniffle.

When he saw you, he reached his little hands out and pawed at the air, face squishing as if he was about to cry again.

“He wants to see you,” Sue said calmly, seeming to know exactly what her son wanted. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” you replied, shifting into a more comfortable position and outstretching your arms. “Any reason why?”

You couldn’t admit you’d spent the last few hours crying while they were gone. The uncertainty gnawed at you, wearing you down until your thoughts felt frayed and thin.

But the second Franklin was nestled in your arms, your anxiety disappeared.

“That, I assume,” She replied. “He likes you.”

We have been through a lot together. You wanted to say. But somehow, you knew that Franklin understood that as he melted into your arms, suckling on his thumb.

“You and Reed need some alone time?” you asked, assuming they would ask you to watch him for a while.

“No actually,” Sue laughed. “I’ve learned that you're one of the only things that makes him stop crying.”

“I wonder why.” you spoke aloud, gazing down at Franklin, who was now sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“Because you’re family,” Sue said.

Hearing her say that caused you to stiffen. Your eyes met hers, wary, as if bracing for a joke that never came.

“I-” you started, but couldn't speak.

“Johnny is out of the equation right now.” She smiled. “You’re one of my best friends and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. So please, you can tell me anything, okay?”

“Even if I say I’m in love with your brother?”

She snickered, trying not to wake Franklin. “I already know that.”

“Thank you, Sue,” you said, and you meant it.

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” she asked softly, but then her tone shifted. “If it has to do with my brother I swear-”

“No, not at all,” you interrupted with a smile. But it took you a moment to decide what to say next and to understand what was actually bothering you. The dreams, supposed memories. Your smile faded.

“I just feel different,” you admitted. “And I’m not sure why.”

“You did experience a lot.”

“I think I died, Sue.”

The air felt thicker, the silence grew louder. It felt better to speak your theory out loud, to get it off your chest. And when you met her eyes, you felt your lip threaten to quiver.

“Like you did.”

All she did was look at you. One and the same. It would have been impossible for you to know that otherwise. Franklin stirred in your arms but did not wake. Your voice hushed further for his sake.

“I know something is different, but I don't know what. And it's eating me alive.”

“We will figure it out,” Sue assured, in a similar way that Johnny would, with pure determination.

For you. In the same way you would for them.

“You believe me?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

You shrugged.

“Crazier things have happened.”

Later that night, when Johnny, Reed, and Ben sauntered back home, they found you and Sue sprawled out and sleeping on the couch, with Franklin in between the two of you. There were empty wine glasses and popcorn still on the table, and your textbook was open on the floor beside you.

“Have a fun night with my sister?” Johnny asked, hoisting you into his arms with a dramatic grunt.

“Yes,” you giggled quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Waiting for you to get home.”

With a grin, he brought you into his freshly renovated room, kicking the door shut behind him. It smelled of fresh paint, definitely not of Johnny. But it would do. It looked almost identical.

As he set you down on the bed, you sighed, sinking into the mattress like it was heaven after a week on the couch. The overhead lights blinked off, leaving only his bedside lamp glowing a deep orange.

Shortly after, Johnny snuggled in beside you, pulling the covers over your body. He didn't have to ask, and neither did you. Both of you had craved a moment like this for so long.

“Wanna tell me about your dream?” Johnny asked, snaking one arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest.”

A chuckle escaped you before it was replaced with a pout. Even just thinking about it frustrated you. As Johnny gazed at you, his expression morphed into complete seriousness. All he wanted to do was understand, to help. You weren’t alone.

“You said that you died.”

Your nose brushed his as your hand found his cheek. Confusion still tangled inside you, fear of the truth and the part of you that felt changed. You wanted to trust your instincts—and Johnny. You needed to.

“I think I did…” You said, taking a moment to formulate anything of substance. But there really wasn’t anything, no proof, no evidence, no memory. Your thumb brushed across his stubble, your eyes meeting his. “But somehow I’m here.”

Knowing you had actually died, made Johnny feel sick. He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. He should have never let you help… he should have listened to his gut. But it was you that insisted, it was your free will that he had no right to take away.

Seeing you like this was hard. You hadn’t been yourself the last few weeks, and he knew it was because you were frustrated and scared. It felt weird piecing everything back together— literally, physically, and emotionally.

“I don't remember anything. But I have a deep discomfort, a scrambled memory. There’s nothing. What I whispered in my sleep, I can't remember.”

As Johnny soaked in your words, his hand enveloped yours, bringing your wrist to his lips, where he kissed it softly. “Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded gently. This was hard for you, not being able to understand your own mind. “I can't help but feel that I'm supposed to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“What happened to me,” you clarified.

Instead of shying away, Johnny stayed close. In unspoken words, you knew what he wanted to ask. He was there. He was real.

“I’m different now, and I don't know why or how.” Your breath escaped you. “Science can't explain it away.”

“Ill always be here and nothing will change that,” he whispered, tugging you closer to him.

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

But his touch, his breathing, his heartbeat, made your eyelids droop. Just as you figured, Johnny Storm was your cure, your safe haven.

“I’ll…” you yawned. “Tell you when… I figure it out.. Okay?”

As you drifted off, you thought you heard him mumble his affirmation, but his presence was always enough. Just having him in your life was enough.

“Sheesh, you’re hot,” Johnny mumbled.

“Says you,” you managed to groan back.

“I’m not kidding,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you again. “But I'm not complaining.”

“Johnny,” you whimpered sleepily into the pillow. “Please let me sleep.”

“Alright,” he replied, chuckling slowly as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

Leaning into it, you felt a smile pulling across your features. You could barely open your eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“God,” he mumbled into his pillow, right beside your ear. “I love it when you hold me to things.”

That same promise, that same memory, finally lulled you to a peaceful sleep. And for the first time in weeks, there wasn’t a nightmare.

Instead, you dreamed of another world, one where the sun pulsed with living golden light, and as you danced beneath it, that same light poured into your veins.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

A week later, as you were walking down the street with Ben, flashes of that dream blazed through your mind. They came in waves, forcing you to pause at the corner even as the crosswalk turned green.

Grocery duty had fallen to you both, but you embraced it, eager for the excuse to wander the city and breathe in the crisp, open air.

Ben glanced down, catching a fleeting, peaceful smile on your lips. After endless hours cooped up in the lab, even a simple grocery run felt like a grand adventure.

But then he noticed it—the subtle twitch of your eyebrow, your eyelids fluttering shut, as if recoiling from something unseen.

You stopped short in the middle of the crosswalk, frozen for just a heartbeat.

Inside, you were paralyzed, mind overtaken by an unseen force. Wisps of gold danced before your eyes, a gentle voice whispering comfort, even as ruin hovered at the edge of your world.

You are the key that will help bring balance to the multiverse.

“You alright, Y/N?” Ben asked, grasping onto your arm and pulling you to the other side of the street. He set both of his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

At the motion, you gasped yourself back into reality. As your vision cleared, you blinked, finally focusing on Ben. “W-what?”

“You spaced out there, kid.” His hands dropped away. “Has that happened before?”

“I don’t think so…” A moment passed as you reflected on what you saw. Deep in your heart, you knew it was a clue; a repressed memory that was clawing it ways to the forefront of your mind. But it wasn’t complete, and you could only assume it was from the day you died.

“You should really let Reed run some tests on you,” Ben sighed, knowing what memory you were referring to without having to speak it again into existence. “Just to be safe."

As the two of you entered the grocery store, you nodded, grabbing a grocery basket. “I will when we get back. But…”

“But what?” Ben asked.

“You have to make dinner then.”

He rolled his eyes. “As if that wasn’t already the plan.”

Leaving the store with arms overflowing with snacks, you watched Ben grumble good-naturedly, balancing nearly thirty bags across his broad back as if they weighed nothing.

You skipped ahead, prompting Ben to shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re lucky I like you,” he teased.

“I deserve it!”

“You just had to choose the most expensive steak, and lobsters? Surf and Turf Saturdays are not going to be a regular thing!”

“It’s not like you’re strapped for cash!” you shot back, quickening your pace to match his stride.

“Fair enough, but spending this type of money on you is Johnny's job, not mine.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “But you’re the better cook.”

“Johnny can pay for it,” he grumbled. “But, I could help him cook it.”

“Deal,” you giggled.

You and Ben turned onto a new block, taking a different route than before.

“It’s more scenic,” he joked, nodding toward the construction ahead. “They’re building something new, wanna check it out?”

“Sure!”

That something new happened to be a towering sculpture that honored the Fantastic Four and their victory over Galactus. Instead of replacing the old bank building that used to be on this block, they were going to make expectations for much needed greenspace. The area was already buzzing in anticipation for the grand opening.

And of course, you immediately wanted to tease Ben about it. He always got so bashful over compliments.

But before you could, the construction crew spotted Ben’s towering frame and erupted into cheers. You couldn’t help but snort, rolling your eyes at their antics.

“What's good big fella?” One of them asked, simultaneously extending his arm over the barrier for a handshake.

After addressing Ben, he turned to you. Both of you smiled at the same time.

“No way that’s you, Kurt!” you laughed loudly.

“Ohhh look who decided to grace us with her pretty little face today! What’s it been, about five months?”

“Not too harsh now,” you chuckled, brandishing the brown paper bag under your peacoat. “I brought drugs.”

“Aye, it’s those cookies that Richie’s kid loves.”

“He only likes them when Y/N buys them, I told you that!” He smacked him upside the head.

You laughed, passing the cookies over. “Stay warm out here, alright?”

“Say, that Storm kid got his grubby lil hands on ya yet doll face?”

“Yeah he did, dumbass,” you shot back, rolling your eyes to mask the flustered expression that threatened to cross your face. “And I’m having a hell of a time!”

“Richie, tell your nephew he’s gotta compete with Johnny now!” They burst out into laughter.

“Crush their dreams while they’re young,” Ben muttered, shaking his head.

“Look at her, too!” Richie teased. “Never thought I’d see her blushing like that.”

Once the laughter died down, Kurt shook his head as he opened the cookie bag and began passing them around. “Say, Y/N, since you’re canoodling with Johnny now, you think you could get us something else besides cookies?”

You deadpanned. “You get paid more than me, Kurt.”

“Ah, worth a shot,” he chuckled. “Well listen sweetheart, me and boys would love to see you on the screen again. Mr. Richards better know how big of a star he has on his hands.”

“I was saying she was a smart cookie!” Richie cackled.

You rolled your eyes at every compliment, but laughter left your stomach aching. “You’re too much!” you called, leaning on the barricade to linger in their company a little longer.

Ben realized this and stood off to the side, only listening to your conversation, even chuckling to himself from the natural banter.

They were old neighbors, old friends, from a life you lived before you took the job for the Fantastic Four. You hardly spoke of your past, but it was clear you were loved before you waltzed into their lives.

Ben had just finished the cigarette that he bummed off one of your friends before you joined his side again.

You instinctively waved a hand in front of your nose, scrunching your face at the lingering smoke.

Ben only smirked, shaking his head with a knowing glint in his eye, as if privy to a secret you’d never guess.

“What?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Still got it in ya, huh?”

“Oh?” you scoffed. “That’s just Kurt."

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Ben added sincerely, with a soft expression despite the harshness of his features.

“They took care of me back then,” you admitted with a slight smile. “They’re some good men… But don’t ever tell them I like their wives better. Always fed me on cold nights.”

You didn’t elaborate, and Ben didn’t ask. You both appreciated the quiet understanding. You didn’t know everything about each other, but it was enough to feel like family. No matter what had happened, Ben thought you had a good head on your shoulders. You were good for Johnny, for Sue, and for Reed.

You were his friend, someone he’d protect with his life. Not just for Johnny, but because he genuinely liked you. Honestly, that knucklehead didn’t deserve an angel like you.

Eventually, the crosswalk blinked green. As you and Ben turned to head home, a sudden shout rang out down the street—a voice you instantly recognized as Richie’s.

Immediately, your entire frame snapped backwards, and if you had been carrying any groceries, you would have dropped them.

Overhead, something enormous shuddered, then snapped. The crack echoed down the block, paralyzing everyone but you. Time seemed to slow, your own movements stretching into eternity.

You didn't even realize you were sprinting toward them until you heard Ben’s voice above the chaos.

“Y/N, NO!” Ben yelled, but you were already under the beam, and so was he. The precious groceries lay strewn across the pavement, and your hands were outstretched to Kurt, with what little protection, however futile, you could provide.

The breath in your lungs escaped in a gasp.

Ben’s massive frame quaked as he caught the beam on his shoulders. The crash made you shudder while dust and debris rained down, knotting in your hair and sticking to your clothes.

“Hurry, dammit!” Ben cursed in tension.

Blinking the dust out of your vision, you saw that Kurt, Richie, and the others were alright. You reached out to Kurt in an attempt to pull him free. But as he grasped your hand, a scream left his lips.

Still, you managed to pull him free with the help of Richie and his crew. Once everyone was out of distance from the rogue scaffolding, you turned to Kurt.

“You okay?” you asked gently, partially because you were still in shock, and because you could hardly stomach the blood.

“Think my leg’s broken,” he coughed, now covered in soot. You were too, but you pulled his jeans up, and saw the bone sticking out.

“Fucking hell!” he cursed, raising his wrist to his mouth and biting down to suppress another yell.

“I-It's going to be alright!” you assured, already scanning your surroundings for anything to splint with. “I’ll stop the bleeding and we’ll get you to a hospital real quick."

“What the hell even happened?” one of the other guys muttered beside you.

The ground rumbled as Ben set the beam back against the street, out of harm's way. He approached you, and the group huddled around.

“Is anyone else injured?” you asked, nodding in thanks as someone handed you some plywood and a t- shirt. Hurriedly, you tore the shirt into a longer strip and began wrapping it around his thigh as a tourniquet.

Gently, as you steadied the boards around his broken ankle, you pressed your palm against the underside of his leg, directly against his skin.

You fumbled with the cloth, as you’d never even applied a tourniquet before, and you prayed internally, in a haze from all the blood, from the fragility of humans. The fragility of your own life.

“Shit!” you whimpered, second-guessing yourself. “Did anyone call an ambulance yet?”

Unbeknownst to you, your hands began to glow, too busy trying to save your friend to notice, Your whole body blazed with energy, mind racing and unable to separate the heat from your adrenaline.

Since nobody answered you about the ambulance, you finally looked up to find that the pain had vanished from Kurt’s face. Now, his eyes were open and wide, just staring at you, as if he didn’t know what to do or what to say.

Fuck, was he going to pass out?

“When the hell were ya gonna tell us you can do that?” Kurt finally said, before an awestruck laugh escaped him.

Confusion twisted your expression. “Do what?"

Then you glanced down—his ankle was healed, as if it had never been broken. Only the blood on your hands and clothes remained as proof.

“I…” you paused, glancing up at Ben. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Try and heal this cut,” Richie butted in, holding his arm out to you. Hesitantly, you reached your hand out. The moment your fingers made contact with his skin, the cut seemed to bubble into nothingness.

“Holy shit girl!” Someone cheered in disbelief.

“Let’s get you home,” Ben said, offering his arm. There was a warning in his voice, and you understood. As you took it, you scanned the street, relieved the press hadn’t arrived.

“Y-yeah,” you replied, also helping Kurt up in the process. He squeezed your hand before you turned away.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Kurt nodded, the look in his eyes confirming that he wouldn’t speak a word of it until you were ready. Just like when you were a kid.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

Johnny, Reed, and Sue tried to greet you as you entered the kitchen. But the expression on your face left them speechless.

You brushed past them, immediately retreating to the living room that had a spare chalkboard. You discarded your coat and scarf on the couch beside you.

Slowly, Ben entered after, sighing as he set the groceries on the counter. He gestured to you, still in disbelief. “We have something to show you guys.”

Johnny was the first to approach you. “What’s going on Y/N?” he questioned apprehensively, as he’d never seen you so perplexed, so lost.

“I-I don’t know,” you managed to reply, picking up a piece of chalk and jotting down any formula that came to mind. Healing. Regeneration. There had been plenty of research, more theories than you could possibly remember, yet nothing had ever been proven.

How could science even begin to explain all of this?

You had just made the impossible possible. Before your own eyes, with your own hands. If only you could remember, that was all you needed—

“You will understand in time.”

That voice seared through the layers of your subconscious again, like a warning, and it caused your face to contort in discomfort, confusion, and denial. Even after weeks, your memory of that day remained a patchwork of missing fragments.

All but few.

Time.

Something there would never be enough of, something a mere human could not understand.

A different path, a frayed version of reality.

Everyone was silent as you worked, just watching, frozen in the places you left them, concerned but refusing to speak until you calmed down.

Eventually, as you frantically scribbled your thoughts onto the chalkboard, with darting eyes and twitching hands, Reed came to stand behind you, next to Johnny.

That burning sensation crept along the palms of your hands as you finally finished, drawing a deep, thick line around your answer—nothing.

This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be your doing, it had to be a fluke. None of it made sense. Magic wasn’t real.

“Regeneration?” Reed asked quizzically, eyes falling on you for an answer.

After another long moment of silence, Johnny set his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to turn around and face him.

There was a frown upon your face, and your eyes continued to avoid his.

“What happened, Y/N?” he finally asked.

The answer, the words were caught in your throat, unable to escape. You were scared, not wanting to accept this reality, not when it could change everything, not when the life you were comfortable with would no longer be the same.

The Fantastic Four were the only humans on this planet with superhuman abilities. From a cosmic blast in space. How the hell did this happen to you?

“She healed someone’s broken leg.” Ben finally said. He spoke for you, but you didn’t mind. It still didn’t feel real.

Sue raised an eyebrow, rounding the kitchen counter to join the rest of you, bouncing Franklin on her hip. “How?”

“I just touched him,” you choked out. “I was trying to apply a tourniquet.”

Ben continued. “Then her hands started to glow.”

In bewilderment, Reed’s hand came to cover his mouth. A deep sigh escaped him as he tried to make sense of it all. Johnny glanced between the two smartest people he knew, disconcerted that both of you had no explanation.

“But I tested you, nothing has changed… the results came back negative,” Reed responded anxiously, frustrated at himself for not catching it.

Ben sighed. “I just got her to agree to more testing.”

“It’s fine Reed,” you assured, even though you were afraid. “This isn’t something the science we know can explain.”

“Of course it can!” Reed tossed his hands up. “I must have missed something, I’m sorry.”

“There are still some things we can try,” Sue reminded gently. “If Y/N is up to it.”

Franklin giggled in what you presumed to be agreement, his tiny hands reaching out to you, calming you for a moment.

“Did the press get wind of this?” Johnny asked.

“Nah,” Ben replied. “Got out of there before anyone else saw.”

“Just some old friends... they won’t say anything,” you mumbled, leaning into Johnny’s arms for comfort. Tears blurred your vision. You’d created another mess for them, another layer of stress in an already impossible world.

Johnny felt your tears soak into the fabric. “Hey,” he pulled you tighter against him. “Everything will be okay. It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No,” you exhaled. “I promise.”

“Well figure it out, Y/N,” Sue assured gently. “It may take some time, though.”

They were always kind, even when the world made no sense. They shielded you, comforted you, stood by you. As you calmed, you breathed in Johnny’s scent, letting his warmth clear your mind.

After another deep inhale, you slightly adjusted yourself in Johnny’s arms to face them. “I feel like my mind’s been tampered with. Like something was erased…something beyond us, something different than Galactus.”

Johnny felt you stiffen beside him. “Galactus…” you swallowed hard. “Said he would make use of me.”

And then he snapped your neck.

The memory of it almost caused you to jolt in repulsion. But instead, you swallowed hard, forcing down the fear that rose within you. The silence made you uncomfortable, not knowing the answer and not being unable to do anything made you uncomfortable.

“I need to go down to the lab-” you started, but Sue was the one to cut you off. Johnny’s grip on you tightened.

“No, what you need is rest.” Her tone was firm, as she caught the agitation in your movements. She did not want you to adopt Reed's bad habits.

“Give us some time to help you first,” Reed said. “Let me prepare something.”

That convinced you well enough, but maybe it was because you truly really were exhausted.

“We’ll start tomorrow, Y/N,” Johnny assured, rubbing your arm soothingly. “As early as you want.”

There was no use in fighting them. They were right and had used your own logic against you.

“Fine.” You sighed in defeat, bidding them all an early night and following Johnny to his room.

Once the door to Johnny’s room shut, Ben slumped to the couch. The silence was heavy. All of them knew it was going to be a long night. Ben and Sue were still in shock from the revelation, with Ben still trying to rationalize what he’d witnessed, what had almost happened to you and what you were now capable of.

Reed couldn’t peel his eyes away from the gibberish you’d scribbled on the chalkboard, hand resting under his chin in a deep contemplation. None of the formulas were finished, but you were onto something about an incursion. There was a symbol he failed to recognize, one that seemed ancient.

Technically, it didn’t make sense. But you had one of the brightest minds he’d ever come across, so it had to mean something. Or else, you would have gone completely mad.

Sue joined Reed’s side and placed Franklin in his arms. “Maybe this little guy knows.”

“I’m sure he does,” Reed softened as Franklin nestled against him, utterly content and curious. “He brought his mother back to life, after all.”

That caused Sue to smile fondly at them both as she took a seat next to Ben on the couch. Eventually her eyes drifted to the board. “What else could possibly have the power to bring Y/N back to life?”

“Someone or something gave her that power,” Ben added. “It’s unlike anything we’ve seen.”

Gesturing to the unidentifiable symbol, Reed highlighted his confirmation. “An entity not of this world”

“Great,” Ben groaned. “Another alien?”

“She did say it was like Galactus, but not him. Maybe someone he knows of…?” Sue trailed off, her question remaining unfinished.

“This is all so unprecedented,” Reed sighed. “I mean, why her? She was only protecting Franklin, like the rest of us.”

“It’s about time we considered that we don’t know everything about Y/N,” Ben said. “There must be some obvious explanation, something we’d never thought of.”

Reed exhaled in annoyance. “I know it’s the latter, but I hate it.” To reset his thoughts, he turned his gaze back to his son.

So many unknowns, so many possibilities. In moments like these, it was hard to not go insane. But as Reed gazed into his son’s eyes, all he could think about was how they would prevail. For each other, and for their world.

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