★

Luna 23 ~ a corner of my mind ~ •.•°•☆•°•.•

[profangirllu]

a fallen star ⟢ J.S.

Part 1 - "Stars Align" Series

☆ Description: After a rough few years, you finally land a new job at a research foundation. But when an experimental demonstration with a newly made machine goes wrong, you are sent hurtling across dimensions a dropped into a completely unknown world. With no money, no phone, and no way of getting home, you come to realize that your life may be changed upside down for good. It might not be so bad, except this dimension is vastly different than yours. Why does everyone dress like they stepped out of a retro movie set? Why are there flying cars? And, more importantly, who the hell are the Fantastic Four? -- *PART ONE OF A PLANNED SERIES* -- ☆ Pairing: Johnny Storm (FFFS) x Female!Reader ☆ Tags/warnings: mentions of mental health issues, feelings of inadequacy/not being good enough, Johnny wants to be in love, brief mentions of stalker-like behavior, reader is kind of depressed, mentions of abandonment, I think that's it! ☆ Word Count: 9.9k+ (it's a doozy :-D) ☆ Note: I'm so excited to start this bc I've wanted to write about Johnny for ages. This part is mostly exposition/set up for the next parts (right now I have parts 2&3 planned out in my head), so not much interaction btw Johnny and reader yet, but it's a good setup for what is to come! Proofread-ish, so I will be rereading it after posting and making small edits if I find anything. Hope you enjoy. Recommended song for this chapter below!!!

Part 1, Part 2

You have always had a plan.

Graduate high school. Go to college. Get good grades. Graduate with honors. Get your dream job. Become successful. Help people. Be happy.

Every single thing you did - each club and extracurricular, every class and internship - was but a piece in a meticulous puzzle you had created to keep your life on track so that you could become the best version of yourself. The most successful, the most recognized, the most happy. 

But lately…

Lately, life hadn’t been going how you’d planned at all. 

The post-graduation job market had been an abysmal hell-hole to put it in civilized terms. While all of your friends went off to high paying jobs and consistent nine-to-fives straight out of college, you were stuck working part time shifts at two restaurants, a bar, and a hair salon just to be able to afford to pay your portion of the rent for a dingy apartment with two other roomates with equal deadend jobs and stopped out dreams. You could see them posting about trips to Europe and buying houses and affording another luxury bag while you were counting your pennies trying to see if you had enough money for the subway home and dinner that night. 

You tried to keep your chin up, to keep chugging along as you applied to every museum, laboratory, company, and research facility that had any position you could remotely gaslight others into believing you were qualified for. But it was hard. Life was hard. And it had a way of reminding you it played favorites.

The wail of pop music over bass-heavy speakers clogged your ears, squeezing your head like the sounds were trying to make lemonade with your brain. Giving a small shake of your head, you brought yourself back to reality and tried to smile as your friends popped a fresh bottle of champagne with a giddy squeal. Their smiles etched lines into their faces and lighting up the table under the dim lighting of the all-too-expensive restaurant your friend Annika had chosen for her simultaneous birthday and promotion celebration dinner. She’d just been offered partner at a law firm, one of the youngest lawyers in the city to earn a position like that. 

You watched from your seat as Annika posed and your friends took turns snapping pictures. They all looked stunning, healthy, and well rested in tailored blazers and silk dresses that were probably worth more than your entire savings account. 

Annika, with her sleek dark hair and beautiful green eyes, had gotten a job at a firm right after law school and had been working there ever since. Your friend Meg was an x-ray tech at the big hospital off Madison Ave, making plenty of money to afford a solo apartment in the Upper East Side while only working four days a week. And Gigi had just become the curator of one of the biggest, most prestigious art museums in the city. All of them - your girls, as you fondly referred to them - were on the up and up. 

A small, proud smile creeped onto your lips as you took a sip of your water (it was the only drink you could afford off the menu tonight). 

It wasn’t like you weren’t proud of them, of course you were. They had all accomplished their dreams, goals they had planned since college and went after with a fierce determination. They’d all known exactly what they wanted out of life and had pushed themselves to achieving it by any means necessary.

But you? You hadn’t remotely known what you wanted, always having ideas and passions that were snuffed out by close minded family members and life-drained mentors that wanted someone else to join in on their misery. So you went to school and got a degree in communications with a minor in business because that was what your advisor told you would give you the most options in the job market. 

You wished you could tell her how wrong she’d been. How you still had no direction, no financial security, no passion for anything in life. And now everyone around you seemed to be moving forward, moving on, leaving you behind in the dust. Alone and forgotten. Again. 

As your friends took their seats again and everyone settled down, Annika sighed and began pouring out champagne. “Okay, okay,” she started, “enough about me! What’s going on with all of you lately? Gigi, girl, I am dying to know how things are going with Jason right now!”

Gigi gladly received a glass of golden bubbly liquid from Annika as she tried hiding a coy smile. Tucking a piece of her short, shaggy brown pixie cut behind her ear, she said, “Well, I was gonna wait to tell you guys until later because I didn’t want to ruin Annika’s big night, but…” 

Gigi pulled the sleeve that was bunched up around her left hand down to reveal a glittering silver band and a fat diamond that could easily pay your rent for three years perched on her ring finger.

“We’re getting married!” she exclaimed.

The table erupted into gasps of excitement, everyone clamoring to stand up and get a closer look at the rock on her finger. Your blood ran cold and jaw went slack with shock, like someone had slapped you and then strapped an ice pack to your face. 

Why you were surprised, you didn’t really know. From all the times you and Gigi had talked (which, admittedly, had gotten less and less frequent the past few months) she had known that Jason was the one for her and she was just waiting for him to pop the question. But still, there was another pang in your chest, as if the universe had decided to remind you of yet another milestone you had failed to reach and were behind on accomplishing. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you reached out and examined Gigi’s ring, complimenting its shine and how Jason must have spent ages trying to find it.

“It’s perfect,” you said, leaning back. “Seriously Gi, it’s so you.”

Gigi scrunched her nose playfully. “Isn’t it? Honestly I wasn’t even worried because he knows me so well that I knew whatever ring he chose I would love. I mean, he even knows that the only socks I buy are the Hanes brand on sale.” 

You feigned a laugh, clasping your hands together and squeezing to control your emotions. 

You turned to Meg, who was on her third Cosmopolitan. The colorful pink liquid perfectly matched the shade of the blazer she was wearing. “How about you Meg, what’s going on with you?”

Meg set down her glass and tossed one of her long red curls over her shoulder. “I mean, the hospital is pretty much the same as it always is. Tons of patients and not enough staff, but I just get to chill out in my little corner with my machines so I’m good. Jessica and I are still going strong, though we’re definitely not ready for something like marriage yet.” She laughed and Gigi playfully stuck out her tongue in retaliation. 

“But yeah,” she continued. “Other than that, nothing new. Oh! I do have a trip to Italy planned next month. Jess and I are going to Florence for our anniversary.”

“Aww,” Annika cooed. “Florence is beautiful this time of year. I remember when I went over this time last year with my family it was the perfect temperature the entire trip. And the architecture - ah! Jess is gonna love it.”

Meg nodded, her lips curling up at the thought of her girlfriend. “Yeah, she’s really excited.” Suddenly, she turned to you, placing a hand on your forearm and locking her eyes with yours. “Wait a minute… you haven’t told us anything about your life since we got here! You need to tell us anything and everything right now. Spill.”

In that moment, dread became a cat digging its claws into the ball of yarn that was your mind. 

All of your friends had stopped talking, each of them now looking at you with expectant eyes, hoping for you to add to their excitement. 

You hadn’t seen them in ages - four months to be exact. And since then each of them had somehow managed to level up their already great lives while you stayed in the same shameful rut that plagued you day in and day out. 

Should you tell them the truth? The unmasked, disgusting and depressing reality you lived that would certainly bring down the mood and sour the many celebrations they had shared with you? Or could you possibly make up some kind of elaborate story of how you had accomplished so much and were absolutely killing it in every aspect of your life now?

Calm down. Everything is fine. Remember how much you love them. They won’t judge you. 

As long as you kept your mind from unraveling and stayed in control of your thoughts and feelings, then you were fine.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

Clearing your throat, you let your eyes flit to each of them. All of them were now leaning on the table towards you, listening with open ears and hungry anticipation. 

You let out a nervous breath. 

“Well… I- uh… I’m pretty much just doing the same thing. Waitressing, working at the bar during nights and the salon most mornings.”

“Oh,” Meg replied, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. Annika shot her a look. 

“Have you at least managed to find your own place?” Gigi asked hopefully. 

You shook your head and ran a finger around the rim of your water glass. “Uh, no… nope. Everything is way too expensive right now, so I’m still, uh… still with the roomies.”

“Okay, then what about your love life?” Meg pressed. “You have to have someone you’re seeing, right? Any juicy one night stands or meet-cute moments to share?”

Your other hand gripped tightly at your pants, the black ones you had specifically purchased from the sale rack to try and look halfway decent tonight but had paled in comparison to your friends’ outfits. Just like everything else seemed to in your life.

Through grit teeth, you answered. “No, not seeing anyone either. Kind of hard to when you’re working non-stop every day to make ends meet.”

Meg sat back in her seat and let out a low whistle. “Damn, that sucks man. I would hate to be you.”

“Meg,” Annika warned.

“What?” she retaliated. “I just meant that it sucks she has to work so much!”

“Yeah, but it’s the way you said it,” Gigi replied, shaking her head. 

“But it’s the truth!” Meg exclaimed. The three of them went back and forth, arguing lightly as you sat silently. 

The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the music dulling over the deafening sound of your heartbeat thumping in your head. Suddenly that ball of yarn was starting to come loose. 

Your friends’ bickering cut through the noise, the three of them talking loudly over each other until your voice projected through the air.

“Enough!” you said, the sharp edge in your voice jolting them back away from each other and shutting them up. 

“Meg’s right,” you continued, ignoring the pin pricks of tears at the back of your eyes. “She’s right. She would hate to be me because my life sucks. I work four dead end jobs that don’t even cover my finances, live with two roommates that do nothing but work and drink and clean and then work again like mindless zombies that are waiting to infect me too.” 

Your voice was rising now like a tsunami tide overtaking the shore. 

“I haven’t been on a date since college - and frankly I don’t think I’d like to given the dating pool that’s left for perpetually lonely singles who are too busy to even take a night off to grab a drink with someone.  I have no hobbies, no passions, no goals, and no purpose in life, and I’m sitting here with three people who are supposed to be my closest friends, but who feel like complete strangers to me. I mean, I know I’m a loser - believe me, I’m reminded of it every single day - but being here and hearing all of the great things happening to you guys and then feeling like I’m being judged like a local pariah because of the way my life has panned out only makes it worse. My life is complete and utter shit and… and it’s no one’s fault but mine!”

It took you a second to realize that the whole restaurant had seemed to come to a standstill due to your outburst. Dozens of eyes stayed locked on you and your table as you slumped into your seat.

Your friends’ stared at you, jaws hanging open and eyes nearly popping out of their sockets with shock. Whether it was surprise at the level of your voice, the content of what you had said, or the fact that you were being completely honest with them, you weren’t sure. And now? Now you were so completely and utterly mortified that you didn’t want to stay and find out.

Reaching into your purse, you dug out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and tossed it on the table, sniffing in an attempt to keep yourself from breaking down in tears right then and there. You hoped it would be enough to cover the small appetizer you’d ordered that had yet to make it to the table, and the tap water the restaurant charged two dollars for. 

“I’m sorry, I… I have to go.”

And with that you excused yourself and hurried away from the table, out the door and into the city air, the welcoming caress of the wind gently brushing away the tears pouring down your face.

⟢

It was after midnight when you finally crawled into bed. Ten subway stops and several blocks of walking all while hungry and emotionally drained had taken a toll on you. You hadn’t even gotten to eat your vegetable spring rolls before your outburst, and your stomach grumbled in protest to being denied. 

Your crumpled sheets and tear stained pillow case welcome you like a warm hug, which was more affection and comfort than you’d received in years. Not since…

Staring down at your phone screen, your thumb hovered above the keyboard in your chatroom with Annika. You wanted to say something, anything that would allow you to apologize for ruining her night with your misfortune, but finding the words was hard. 

So you settled for simple, like how your friendship had always been. 

I’m so sorry for my outburst. I hope I didn’t ruin things for you tonight.

A few minutes passed before Annika’s chat bubble appeared to tell you she was typing. In a matter of seconds, your phone buzzed with a response.

don’t worry about it, babes. I would’ve crashed out too if Meg had said that to me. Your outburst was justified lol

You smiled. Annika had always been understanding to a fault. 

She was typing again. Your phone buzzed.

but seriously, are you doing okay? I know we haven’t talked much bc of work and life and stuff but you seemed really upset about everything

you know I’m always here to talk if you need

You bit your lip as you slowly typed out a response, hesitant to tell her any more than what you had revealed earlier. 

I’m struggling, I’m ngl. 

kind of feels like the universe has some kind of vendetta against me, ‘cause no matter how many jobs I apply to, I continue to get rejected. I must’ve applied to sixty openings this month alone and just… nothing 

There was a moment of silence after you sent the text. One where you didn’t hear your roommates’ snoring or the blaring sound of the train down the street from your window. Just the quiet hum of the earth like it was trying to lull you into a calm. 

Another buzz sounded from your phone.

I’m not really supposed to do this, but one of our clients mentioned that their company was looking for another secretary. 

I know it’s kind of just like a glorified receptionist or assistant job, but it’s good pay. Like “fuck you and your family” type of pay. I emailed them your resume when I got home, hope you don’t mind :-\ 

Underneath her text, she’d sent you a link to a website. Clicking on it, the link opened up to an article about a science and technology institute that you’d never heard of, but obviously had some serious influence given the photos of clientele on their page. 

You typed the institute’s name into the search bar, going to their website and finding their “jobs” tab easily. Without hesitating, you clicked apply, filled out the form, attached your resume, and hit submit. 

Your thumbs moved quickly over the screen as you responded to Annika two simple words.

thank you <3

Maybe it wouldn’t pan out, maybe you would get rejected again. But at least it was a step in the right direction. And someone had actually listened to you. 

You threw your phone to the side and turned off your light, burrowing under the covers and drifting off to the strong, steady sound of your heart beating, alone.

⟢

Johnny knew he shouldn’t complain, but sometimes being a member of the Fantastic Four and one of the most well-known people on Earth came with drawbacks.

Of course it had its perks, oftentimes more than he really needed, in fact. Like when his coffee order would be “on the house” on account of saving the world or he would get out of a speeding ticket while driving the Fantasticar because the officer assumed he was responding to a threat and not that he was trying to go supersonic because he had forgotten to go and pick Sue up from a meeting somewhere downtown. 

But it also came with endless meetings and appearances. The constant photoshoots and interviews piled up between training sessions and dealing with crime and danger across the world (and seeing as he was the only one who could fly of the Fantastic Four, he was always the first to respond) left him exhausted most days, but one thankful praise from a bystander or excited squeal from a child who caught him on the street was enough to make him set his feelings aside for his work.

His personal life, however? Completely different story.

In the rare pockets of free time he found throughout his weeks, he tried to live a normal every day life. Running errands, taking Franklin to daycare or playdates when Sue and Reed were too swamped to leave the Baxter Building, making time for his hobbies and attempting to go to the new jazz club that had opened up recently. But he was always met with someone who wanted an autograph or a picture or for him to light their cigarette with his finger. And while he didn’t mind - he never minded when it came to his fans - it did usually end up blowing his cover for the rest of the day until he was forced to return home to the confines of his room.

Dating was an entirely different beast, and pretty much a nonexistent part of his life. Before the accident, before the radiation storm and the powers and creation of the Fantastic Four, he was just Johnny Storm. A scientist, a nerd obsessed with space and always ready to follow his sister and friends into a new adventure.

When he suddenly found himself able to turn himself into a living flamethrower, that all changed. Almost overnight, he had become a heartthrob, the guy teenage girls had posters of in their bedrooms and convinced themselves he would fall in love with them at first sight. He was wanted by everyone, like an intriguing piece of priceless artwork at an auction for millionaires. Always coveted and never for the right reasons.

He’d tried dating. Multiple times, yet every single one ended in disaster.

There was the interviewer from the New Yorker that had batted her eyelashes and feigned interest, only to be more concerned in getting information on his personal life for her articles than getting to know him. Then there was that girl from the bakery on 32nd who was only seeing him so that she would get his endorsement of her shop having the best black and white cookies in New York (to which Johnny very honestly replied that it was Maisie’s Delicatessen that boasted the best black and white cookies in the city). And then there was the girl he had met in the park one early morning while out for a stroll. Someone who had been sweet and kind and seemingly perfect until she invited him to her apartment and he was bombarded with a shrine decorated with millions of pictures of his face from every possible angle. And that wasn’t even mentioning the quick unrequited feelings he thought he had for the silver space woman that had nearly helped destroy Earth last year. 

So yes, being a superhero was great most of the time, but dating while being one was not for the faint of heart. Sometimes the cons of having your face plastered on billboards and magazines and everyone wanting to know an inside piece of your life far outweighed the benefits.

Today was a perfect reminder of that.

Johnny huffed as he followed Reed and Sue off the stage, pulling at the collar of his blue and white suit in frustration. He swore being on soundstages and under the TV show lights made the suits ten times more uncomfortable than they really were.

Ben trailed behind him as he handed off his mic and waved goodbye to a few of the sound people backstage. Another day, another interview done for the good people of New York.

“Johnny, wait up!” Ben called, his clunky feet shaking the floor as he jogged up from behind. 

Johnny slowed, not particularly wanting to given the playful lilt of Ben’s voice but obliging anyway. He was far too tired to argue. Practically all morning, he’d been by 72nd street helping the fire department with various fires that had started due to faulty wiring in the buildings. The old dry wood and ventilation systems were so outdated that a single spark from inside the walls had caused an entire building to go up in flames.

Then he’d zipped over to 93rd where he sat in back to back meetings with the mayor of New York and Mole Man to discuss how the people of Subterranea could get equal access to education below ground (and for them to stop popping up in the middle of the streets through the sewer drains). Johnny had taken insult after insult from the latter the entire time. 

Johnny’s body rocked as Ben gave him a pat on the back. He pointed his rock-ridden thumb behind the two of them towards the sound stage.

“You know,” Ben began with a sly smile. “That PA assistant was really checking you out during the show.” He nudged Johnny’s shoulder with his own. “You should go ask her out, man.”

Johnny side eyed him, “She was literally wearing a Human Torch lanyard, so… no.”

Ben rolled his eyes and groaned. “You are never going to find someone if you don’t let this whole “she can’t know who I am or anything about me or be obsessed with me because she might be a crazy stalker” thing go.”

Johnny reeled around to his (literally) hard faced friend. Pinching his brow with a gloved hand, he said, “Do you not remember how that Lynn girl literally had an entire shrine dedicated to me in her house? She tried to cut off a piece of my hair to put in her locket!”

“Yeah, but that was one time,” Ben replied, throwing an arm around Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny shot him a look and Ben immediately retracted his arm put his hands up in defense.

“Listen, all I’m saying is it’s not gonna be easy to find someone who doesn’t know who you are. And them knowing you may not be a bad thing! I mean, Rachel knew who I was when we met, but she didn’t treat me any differently than anyone else. It’s not like your perfect girl is gonna fall from the sky or something.”

Johnny threw another glare Ben’s way as he strode past him and out the back door. Sue and Reed were by the Fantasticar, talking in low tones to while they stared into each other’s eyes. Reed leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Sue’s lips, the two of them smiling as they pulled apart in a blissful state of love.

On any other day, Johnny probably would’ve made some sarcastic comment, pretended to shield his eyes and tell them he was scarred for life. But today, it just made the dull ache for companionship in his chest grow stronger. Most days he could fill it up by seeing kids dressed up as the Human Torch on the playground or hearing the sounds of his Flaming Hearts Fanclub screaming his name as he flew over the streets in a fiery blaze. And yet somehow with every day that passed it was getting harder and harder to rely on his tried and true methods.

Reed moved to open the passenger side of the Fantasticar for Sue, offering his hand to help her climb in. Ever the gentleman.

As she buckled her seatbelt, Sue called back to Johnny and Ben over her shoulder.

“Reed and I have to go pick up Franklin from the daycare center. Will you two be alright to get home?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, I was planning to go see Rachel anyways and help her out with an event she’s planning. Maybe go for a walk afterwards, get some dinner together. I probably won’t be back until after dark.”

Sue smiled. She’d been overjoyed to see that Ben had finally found someone. Coming back to Earth after the accident had been the hardest on him in particular.

Her blue eyes moved to Johnny, who was still standing there on the sidewalk lost in thought.

“Johnny, you okay to get home?”

Johnny’s gaze flicked to her sister, a sense of knowing on her face like she could read his mind and see that he was struggling with something.  Johnny still didn’t understand how she was able to do that.

He threw his shoulders back, plastering on a fake, charming smile and giving her a thumbs up. 

Sue turned around in her seat, tapping Reed’s hand gently before the two of them shot off in the car down Main Street. 

Ben was already making his way down the street to make his way towards Rachel’s school, and Johnny was left on the sidewalk, alone with only himself and his thoughts to keep him company. 

But he couldn’t keep thinking about things that seemed too far out of reach for him. There was no point to it. So, he ignited himself into flames and did the one thing he was certain he could do.

Fly. 

⟢

Four weeks and five interviews later and you’d officially landed the job as the new secretary at the United Change Foundation, a subsidiary of what used to be Stark Industries created after the Blip that focused on developing new technology that would help serve the greater good of the world. 

Around two weeks had passed since your first day, and you were finally settling into the rhythm of things. Even though it wasn’t much more than a glorified assistant job to your boss Helen, the higher pay, steady hours, and consistent sleep schedule you were getting in return more than made up for it. 

You’d just finished all of the morning’s paperwork - mostly filing licenses, scholarship grants, research notices - when you stood up to take your thirty minute lunch break. Your stomach growled with a ravenous hunger, and you thought about the sandwich you had packed yourself last night waiting for you in your bag. Right as you were about to put up your “gone fishing” sign on your desk to indicate your break time, your boss walked up to your desk. 

Helen was an older woman, tall and thin and ever imposing with her sharp lines and cat-like stare. She ran the majority of the Foundation and would’ve been considered CEO if Pepper Potts didn’t already have that spot claimed. 

She plopped a thick binder and pen down on the top of your desk, sucking at her teeth and glancing at you with narrowed eyes. Helen pointed at you, then the binder, then turned. 

Over her shoulder, she offered no other explanation to her unexpected appearance besides a curt and cold:

“Follow me.”

⟢

You followed the clicking sound of Helen’s heels down the hallway into an area that read RESTRICTED: APPROVED PERSONNEL ONLY  in large red letters. 

“Normally I would ask Adelaide or Nathan to do this,” Helen called, her head held high like a swan looking over the water. “But, since both of them are out this week and there’s quite literally no one else with the free time to do it, I am offering you the opportunity to sit in on a consultation.”

The two of you came to a set of sliding metal doors, industrial grade and obviously built for the highest possible security. She swiped her badge on the raised key pad next to them, then put her eye up to a small camera imbedded into the wall that scanned her retina. After it recognized her in the system, it lit up with a soft green glow and the door slid open. Helen stepped through without hesitation, waving at you behind her back to follow her. You scrambled through the door as it began to close, barely getting both your feet across the threshold before it snapped shut behind you. 

Well, you thought, guess my lunch break is going to have to wait.

As you jogged to catch up, Helen began rattling off things to you about the meeting. 

“It’s just an investor meeting, so nothing too big. We have a team of scientists showing their prototype to some of the richest people in the world. If we get the right backing, they can continue their work and we can continue to make a difference.”

The two of you walked down a hallway, took a sharp left around a corner, and continued walking as you passed in front of a panel of glass windows looking into what seemed to be an experimental engineering lab 

It was sterile and clean looking, bright white fluorescents beating down like the Sun through a magnifying glass. Black-topped tables had been pushed to the edges of the room, notebooks and paper sheets and metal pieces and wires littering the tops like confetti on a birthday cake. In the center of the room, you could see a large cylindrical device hooked up to several tubes and power sources. It stood taller than most of the engineers working on it, and seemed like it would be big enough to fit a human inside. Your mind itched with curiosity. It got the better of you before you could stop yourself.

“What is that?” you asked, eyes studying the contraption intently. You’d never been super into sciences or maths, but something about them fascinated you from time to time. 

Helen stopped short and turned abruptly on her heel to face you, her sleek black bob slicing through the air like a knife with perfect aim around her jawline. 

“Your job,” she pointed at you, “is to stay quiet, take notes, and make sure the investors have everything they need. That means, no questions, no remarks. Not even a sniffle or cough, do you understand?” 

Her steel gray eyes narrowed at you as she lowered her tone. “Once you step through those doors, you are invisible, got it? Anything you hear in this meeting cannot be talked about anywhere outside of these four walls. Else there will be… consequences.” 

She gave you an icy once over, like she was suddenly Miranda Priestly evaluating your poor fashion choices instead of asking you not to reveal top-secret confidential information to the public. 

No pressure.

“Have I made myself clear?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Being trusted to be involved in something this high profile so early on was a massive step for you. Maybe if you did well, this moment could accelerate your career and catapult you into the future you had originally planned for yourself. 

Helen didn’t wait for you to answer - not like you had a choice in what she told you to do around here. She punched a code into the keypad on the door before pushing it open, and the only thing you could do was follow her into the fire. 

⟢

You tried to keep your calm as you jotted down notes in the binder that Helen had given you earlier. Three of the world’s wealthiest people were standing in the same room as you, a group of engineers in a nearby observation room, listening to two geniuses talk about the device they had made.

They called it the Inter-Dimensional Energy Accelerator. It was based off of schematics made by Tony Stark and the Avengers to create the time machine that allowed them to save the world again after the Blip.

Well, not the whole world. 

The engineers said it had taken them years to develop, especially after losing so many brilliant minds and resources post-Blip and post-recovery. They theorized that it would help not only with interdimensional travel to assess any possible threats and look for new valued resources (particularly strong, versatile metals like vibranium or adamantium), but it could allow for advanced space travel and teleportation within the known world as well.

Frankly, it all sounded like an optimistic fantasy to you. How could a machine possibly transport you to another plane of existence? And yet, part of you wanted it to be true, wanted it to work so that maybe one day you could transport yourself to a completely different world and start over from scratch. As crazy as it sounded, maybe that was your best option.

You’d been jammed up against a cluttered corner next to stacks of boxes full of unused supplies, trying to keep your balance as you tried perching on one of them to rest your feet. You still hadn’t gotten used to wearing heels to work every day. Beside your shoulder, you could see the rest of the engineers and technicians on the other side of a protective observation glass, going through papers and watching hopefully.

Looking up from your binder, you watched carefully as the engineers showed the investors the outside hull of the machine.

“Our theory,” said one of the engineers, a young woman named Martha with long dreadlocks pulled up high above her head, “is that our equations mixed with Stark’s schematics would allow us to complete a successful transfer of energy across dimensions without involving any temporal anomalies. Basically dimensional travel without traveling backwards or forwards in time.”

She moved in front of a prototype, a smaller version of the machine behind her and pointed to a screen. 

“We’ve already completed trial runs, with live subjects. Mostly rats, mice, a few bunnies as well. We have been able to track each object to a different plane beyond our own dimension and back. And their vitals, genetic makeup, brain patterns - everything that we know about them has stayed the same.” Martha’s dark eyes were blazing bright in scientific wonder. “We could start human trials at any point.”

The woman next to Helen, the one with stark gray hair and dark eyes, spoked up. 

“And how long do you expect those will take, exactly?” She asked. The files in the binder had named her as Catherine Lannister, the heiress of one of the largest oil companies in the world. “This is something we should be putting to use immediately.”

Martha took her glasses off and cleaned them on the hem of her jacket. “Well, that depends,” she began. “First we would need to find volunteers, put them through training to make sure their bodies could withstand any possible malfunctions. Then we would have to do at least three rounds, making sure they come back without any abnormalities. Then we would have to finalize-”

“How about a demonstration?” said the another investor. You looked down, finding his picture in the corner of your paper above the name Jay Bakshi - Private Equity Investor. 

“Of course,” the engineer next to Martha said. “The prototypes are all geared up and ready to-”

“No, no,” Jay responded. He pointed a thin finger at the I.D.E.A. machine. “That one. I want to know that the thing I’m investing in actually works before I throw my money at a bunch of post-grads tinkering around in a basement lab. Besides, you said you could start human trials at any moment, right?”

Martha let out a nervous laugh, wringing her hands. “With all due respect, the Accelerator has not gone through the proper checklist yet. Starting it up could potentially put all of our safety at risk. Not to mention, we still need to add the stabilizers on and-”

Helen shot her a glare, mouthing something that looked like “shut up and do it” from your perspective. 

Martha smiled, muttering a “right, okay,” before moving around to a switchboard on the side of the room. Its wires ran out from the back of the board and across the vinyl floor before disappearing into the metal machine. She let out a breath before pressing a few buttons and flipping a switch.

The investors craned their heads to watch, the lights dimming briefly before the I.D.E.A. machine hummed to life. You could barely see the inside of the cylinder through the small pane of glass imbedded into the door, but you could make out a faint glow building up inside of it. 

Holy shit. Maybe it isn’t such a fantasy after all.

Helen and the investors looked on in interest before a sharp, metallic screech pierced through the air followed by a blaring pattern.

The alarm was deafening in your ears, and you dropped your binder and clasped your hands over your head in an attempt to quell the sound. The once stark fluorescents above your head had switched off, and dark red ones blazed over you now instead like you had stepped into the entrance of an underground nightclub. A robotic voice sounded over the speaker system.

“Warning.”

Something chilled in your veins, blood turning icy. 

“What is all this?” one of the investors, a man you recognized as Todd Stein, a billionaire tech mogul from California, said. “What the hell is going on? I thought you said it was ready for human testing!”

Helen stepped in front of them, clasping her hands and speaking in a reassuring tone. “I’m sure this is just a minor hiccup with the machine, nothing to worry about. Martha and her team will get it up and running in no time, right Martha?”

The engineer didn’t say anything, just frantically began pressing things on the switchboard as her assistant moved around the hull of the contraption, trying anything to see if it would help stop the warning signals going off.

The I.D.E.A. machine rumbled, its exterior beginning to smoke slightly. Martha said something into the walkie-talkie on her wrist. You turned to see the engineers in the observation room rushing about, grabbing anything they could before rushing out the door and into the hallway. One of them locked eyes with you as he grabbed a notebook, his face numbed with fear. He said something into his own walkie talkie.

Your head whipped around to Helen, now holding her own walkie talkie up to her ear as she faced everyone.

“Everyone out. Now.”

Helen moved to press her thumb to the door lock, the key pad humming as the hydraulics opened up with a whoosh. 

Martha and the other engineers scrambled to grab schematics, supplies, and the prototypes in a haste. Every time you tried to move from your corner, someone moved in front of you to grab something. You could see Helen guiding the investors out, yelling to Martha and the rest, “Hurry! The door will lock any second!”

They all rushed out like a pack of ants trying to escape a rainstorm, and you moved quickly to follow. It was difficult to see in the darkened room, and the door was all the way on the other side, far from where you had been relegated during the meeting. You tried carefully stepping across the room, careful not to catch yourself on anything. The last assistant engineer had just made it through the door and was beginning to shut it. You rushed forward, desperate to get out while you still could, calling out to them to wait. But it was like no one heard you. Like you were completely invisible and forgotten to them even though you had been in the room the whole time. 

If you could just get a little closer, enough to get your hand on the door to push it back open-

Your foot caught on a wire that hadn’t been taped down to the floor, your already unsteady legs twisting around until you collapsed on the ground. The door in front of you snapped shut with a deafening click. 

Springing up from your spot, you slammed yourself against the glass windows, banging your fists furiously against them until you were sure they were shaking.

“Hey!” you screamed loud enough for them to hear. “I’m stuck! Get me out of here, please!”

Beyond the glass, you could make out Helen’s piercing gaze trained on you, a look of absolute horror on her face as she stood there, hand twitching at her side like it was debating whether or not it should detach from her body and unlock the door for you. The investors and engineers ran down the hallway in a panicked sprint, shouting and clambering around one another to get to safety. Helen squeezed her eyes shut as she turned and ran after them, not even bothering to look back in your direction. 

As their forms disappeared around the corner, your banging became more frantic, a mirror of your heartbeat starting to stutter erratically in your chest. 

“No. No, no, no, no! You can’t leave me here!” you cried out. “Please… please, come back!”

But it was too late, they had already long disappeared from this floor. And they weren’t coming back. Nobody ever came back.

Dread rushed through your veins as your brain tried to make sense of everything.

No. No, this can’t be happening. This…. This wasn’t the plan. This isn’t how my life is supposed to end.

The I.D.E.A. machine let out a deafening groan, bright light building up and glowing brighter with each passing second. A robotic voice above you continuously said “warning” without any elaboration. 

The whole room shook, vibrations passing through your hands still pressed on the glass.

There was nowhere to go, no one coming to help you, save you. You were all alone. 

This hadn’t been your plan. None of this had ever been your plan. 

Maybe it was the universe’s instead. 

The metallic screeching behind you got louder and louder as blood rushed in your ears. This was it for you, a horrific ending that could have easily been avoided if you’d just been a little faster, taken action a little sooner. 

With shaking hands and a trembling body, you wrapped your arms around yourself, squeezing in preparation as warmth began flooding the room. You closed your eyes as a flash of light exploded from the chamber behind you, engulfing everything in a blinding glow of heat and energy, surrounding you like a blazing embrace meant to take you away into the unknown forever. 

And then, as quickly as it happened, it was over.

And there was nothing.  

⟢

Johnny knew he shouldn’t have said anything about being bored lately, because Reed had immediately come up with a list of chores and errands to do to get him out of the Baxter Building - and more importantly out of his lab and away from bothering him. 

He had dropped off the dry cleaning, taken the Fantasticar to the car wash, and delivered some donations to a local charity on behalf of the Fantastic Four (of course stopping to take some pictures with all of his excited fans on the way). 

Now, he was begrudgingly bringing himself across town to go to Maisie’s Delicatessen to pick up an order of cookies Ben had placed. Johnny swore that this was the fourth order he’d made this week. 

Johnny rounded the street corner to Maisie’s, the cool morning air brushing through his hair as he carried on with a quick stride. Yancy Street was packed with people this morning. Saturdays naturally meant all of the kids were out of school and running around with their friends, families were having breakfast together in the diners, and others were out for morning strolls with their coffee cups and puppies. 

Johnny pushed through the doors to Maisie’s, welcoming in the familiar scent of baked goods and coffee grounds that flooded the air. He could sense the warmth from the ovens blazing in the back kitchen, and his shoes made small tapping sounds on the black and white checkered floor as he walked.

He sauntered over to the “Pick Up” station, ringing the bell and leaning on the linoleum counter as he waited. The line at the register was nearly out the door with people trying to pay for croissants and lattes and cheese-filled pastries.

Johnny pushed a small puff of air out the front of his lips. This was gonna take a while.

A gentle tap on his shoulder disturbed his peaceful rest against the dark blue counter. Johnny glanced behind him to see a small group of girls, each with their hair held back by matching pale blue headbands, a small pin of a heart covered in flames pinned to the fronts of their pinafore dresses and cardigan collars.

The three of them exchanged nervous glances.

“Are you… are you Johnny Storm?” the girl in front asked expectantly. She had mousey brown hair and wore a dark green dress. Her gray eyes sparkled with excitement. 

Johnny nodded, turning his body to face them and putting his hands in his pockets, switching into his suave cool-guy personality he had perfected as the Human Torch. “Yes, yes I am.”

The girl squealed, jumping up and down as she turned to her wide-eyed friends. “See, I told you guys it was him!”

Another one of the girls piped up, the one wearing a brown plaid sweater and thick round tortoise shell glasses. “We’re you’re biggest fans. Top members of the Flaming Hearts Fanclub! We even have the certificates to prove it.”

Johnny smiled, straightening up and putting on the “hero voice” he saved for civilians and kids. “Well, thank you all so much for your continued support. You guys make my flames burn extra bright.”

A smile broke out on the girls’ faces, and Johnny bit back a cringe trying to work its way up into his shoulders. Ben hated when he came up with sappy one-liners, but it made the fans happy.

The girls giggled before the leader reached into her bag and pulled out a rolled up magazine and a marker. 

“Would you mind signing this?” she asked. “It’s the latest issue of Teen Vogue with you on the cover and - oh my God it would make me so happy if you did!”

“Of course,” he replied, shooting her a grin. “Anything for a member of the Flaming Hearts Fanclub.”

He extended his arm to take the thick packet of fashion photos and advertisements and articles that surely a contained few lies about the kinds of girls he was interested in or what his perfect date would be. Before his fingers could brush the shiny pages, a beep sounded from his watch. 

Johnny’s brows furrowed as he retracted his arm, bringing the watch up to his face so he could see what was written on the small black screen. 

Alert! - Show

He clicked on the “Show” button, allowing the screen to buffer before reading the words of the alert.

Extraterrestrial Atmosphere Breach. Origin: Unknown.

 A small satellite image passed onto the screen of a heat signature up in the stratosphere above the city, unmoving and floating like a star suspended.

What the hell was that?

“Uh, sorry ladies, but… duty calls!” he said. Before the girls’ frowns could make him feel guilty, he added, “Why don’t you guys leave your names with Maisie and I’ll make sure that I get those signatures to you all. Sound good?” 

He bolted from the store, ignoring the disappointed whines of the girls behind him and Jen the counter girl calling after him about his cookies. 

Johnny shouldered the door open, eyes cast upward towards the sky as he searched for the location of the breach. Once his feet hit the pavement, he turned on his flames and burst up off the ground, catapulting through the air like a rocket ship. As he rose through the sky, he could make out a faint pulsing light miles and miles away, waiting far above him. 

Was it a ship? Some kind of spacecraft stuck in the gravitational pull of the Earth? The alert said extraterrestrial, but could it be from their solar system? Another one nearby? And was it… glowing?

Johnny pushed higher and higher into the sky, the wind rushing past him with deafening speed. The air only served to make his flames stronger, and he climbed even further. 

He slowed down as he approached the stratosphere, careful not to seem too aggressive or hostile with the entity. Though given the last time he had dealt with an unknown flying space entity he had been too friendly and almost ended up costing his planet its existence, and he debated just blasting it from the sky then and there. 

Johnny narrowed his eyes, fighting the urge to shield them from the bright golden glow that was emitting from the thing in front of him. His flames propelled him slowly in a circle around the entity as he tried his best to examine it under the blinding light it was emitting. He squinted, focusing in and trying to make out any kind of shape he could. And then he realized.

No… it wasn’t a thing. Not an asteroid or rogue spaceship.

It was a person. 

He could see it now, clear as day against the dark backdrop of stars and infinite nothingness above the atmosphere. This was a person, glowing radiantly as if made from pure starlight. If Johnny wasn’t on the job right now, and if this person wasn’t a possible threat come to herald the end of the world like the last floating figure had, he would’ve stayed, there simply floating around them as he stared in awe. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and called to the figure across the space between them.

“Uh, hi. Can we help you? Or… are you just planning to stay here and hover for the rest of the day?”

The figure said nothing, just stayed still as the light emitting from them continued pulsating steadily. Johnny could vaguely make out a face, a pair of eyes that seemed to be glossed over and staring out into the distance, towards something over the crest of the Earth and beyond them in Space. He moved closer, careful not to go too close to the figure or much higher, lest he wanted to run the risk of losing the oxygen that fueled his flames and dropping back down to Earth.

“Um, hello? Hello, can you… can you hear me?” he called, waving his hand out in front of the figure’s face to get their attention. The flames of his hand danced across the air, leaning towards the figure like they were reaching out to them. “Do you… understand English?”

The figure’s face turned and stared at him for a long while, light boring into Johnny in a way he had never experienced before. It was tempting to shield his eyes and look away. He was always used to being the sole thing that burned too brightly.

Slowly, the glow around the figure dissipated, fading out until all that remained was a faint golden outline around their body. Johnny’s eyes watched as every particle of light left and moved to the figure’s edges, the lines around them so thin that only a barely there glimmer was left. His gaze drifted back up to the figure’s face, and finally he locked eyes with them.

With you.

You, who somehow still seemed to possess a glow despite the light having left your skin. 

You with your hair wild around your head, the weak gravity of the atmosphere pulling it up and away from your face. 

You with your terrified expression, mouth hanging open and forehead wrinkled in disbelief as confusion and terror etched into your features. 

You with eyes that were glossy and afraid, staring at his intensely with a silent plea. 

You held his gaze, and Johnny felt as though he could recognize something in your eyes. Something that was hidden deep down, but somehow familiar to him.

A whisper left your mouth, so quiet that Johnny could’ve mistaken it for wind. 

“Help me.”

Suddenly, your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going limp as your muscles failed. The faint glow around your body vanished completely as gravity took hold of your body, pulling it down from the sky like a fishing line would with a fresh catch. In a matter of milliseconds, you had gone from floating in front of him to plummeting down to the ground below.

Johnny dove, turning on his head and flying straight after you. Your body hurtled to the Earth at a record speed, and Johnny used all of his strength to push his flames hotter, burn brighter, all in the attempt to get to you through the sea of blue sky.

He maneuvered around a cloud, avoiding any water vapor he could so that nothing would slow him down. 

Finally, he found you and extinguished the flames on his arms, grabbing you by your torso and pulling you flush against him, one hand holding your head to protect your neck from the speed. The two of you fell, tumbling past clouds and satellites and back down to New York, towards the water just outside the city. Johnny sped the two of you across the Hudson River and back over the streets of Manhattan, moving carefully around buildings and street corners to search for a place with limited pedestrians to stop. Glancing down, he found an opening in Times Square, and once you two were low enough Johnny slowed down and landed, letting his flames die out as he placed you down gently on the ground. 

Johnny could hear the gasps of a few people coming out of shops and restaurants, around him, the sounds of cars screeching to a halt to get a look at what the most popular member of the Fantastic Four had done now. But he didn’t care. His priority right now was you.

He lifted your chest up to his ear, placing his head above the right side and listening intently. You were unconscious, but your heart was beating strong. 

Johnny placed you back gently before pressing a button on the side of his watch and bringing it up to his lips. 

“Sue, Reed, Ben. We have a situation. Meet me in Times Square. Now.” 

He dropped his hand down and examined you, finally able to take everything in now that you weren’t practically exploding with light or falling to your death. 

You didn’t have any visible injuries, thankfully, and whatever weird glow that had enveloped you before was now completely gone. Johnny’s nose scrunched as he looked at your clothing. It was a style he had never seen before, the lines and cuts of the fabric you were wearing seeming completely foreign and out of place to him. 

Who were you? And where had you come from?

A crowd was beginning to form around him, people whispering and others taking photographs on cameras they had brought to capture memories with their friends.  Johnny sighed as he stood up to address them.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “Nothing to worry about here. Please, just go about your-”

You gasped and opened your eyes, hand reaching out and grasping around you as you gulped down air.  Your hand landed on Johnny’s forearm, clasping it tightly as he dropped down to one knee to face you. Your eyes were frantic and searching, looking around like you had just been dropped into a completely unknown world. 

Your words came out in sputters, “What… where…. where…?”

Beneath his jacket, Johnny could feel your hand shaking non stop. He moved closer from his spot next to you, placing his hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

“It’s alright,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

You looked at him, your locked eyes sending a bolt of electricity down Johnny’s spine as he held your gaze. Your eyes narrowed at him. “Who… who are you?”

Johnny blinked. “I’m, uh…,” he let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m… Johnny. Johnny Storm.”

The blank stare you gave him in response prompted him to keep going. 

“The Human Torch? Part of the Fantastic Four?”

You shook your head, moving back away from him as your head swiveled around in fear, taking in the surroundings. 

Everything was wrong. The people were all wearing clothing you couldn’t find in stores. The billboards were all in muted, vintage-looking colors and typefaces. The buildings, the restaurants and shops, even the damn cars looked like they had come straight out of an old Hollywood film from the 60s. 

You could tell vaguely where you were. New York. Times Square, only it wasn’t your Times Square. The screens were all different, the ads all having a fuzzy vignette to them, and the streets were too clean. Why were the streets so clean? Not to mention the fact that not a single person had a cell phone out recording whatever the hell interaction was going on here.

You turned back to the man in front of you. He’d said his name was Johnny. You’d seen his face before, only it was different, like the colors had been inverted or something. 

The past few days were a blur, your memory all-too fuzzy. You could recall something about a science experiment, warning lights, a blinding flash, but everything seemed shrouded in a haze, like it was caught behind a frosted pane of glass or somewhere you could see it but not reach it.

Something about this wasn’t right, and you needed to know why. 

You locked eyes with Johnny again, this time your jaw set firm in place.

“Where the hell am I, and who the hell are the Fantastic Four?”

© profangirllu. all rights reserved. copying, translating, or claiming my work as your own is strictly prohibited.

[profangirllu]

in the dark ⟢ J.S.

Part 2 - “Stars Align” Series

☆ Description: After landing in a strange new world, you find yourself torn between wanting to go back to your old life and trying to figure out how to fit into this new world you're stuck in. Luckily you've made a friend in one of the world's most beloved heroes. But what happens when that friendship starts to become something more?  -- *PART 2 OF A SERIES* --  ☆ Pairing: Johnny Storm (FFFS) x Female!Reader ☆ Tags/warnings: cursing, mentions of death, mentions of depression/mental health, mentions of hospitals, mentions of doubt and feelings of inadequacy, I think that's it? ☆ Word Count: ~ 18.9k ☆ Note: hi folks! I'm sorry part 2 took so long to finish (I had so much I wanted to include because I have a very specific storyline I want for each chapter section) but I hope the word count makes up for it. Please forgive any mischaracterization, inconsistencies, or spelling and grammar mistakes (I lowkey didn't proofread lol). Recommended song for this chapter below!

Part 1, Part 2

You’re not sure how long you’ve been falling.

It could’ve been hours, days, even weeks. It’s hard to tell when there’s nothing around you but darkness.

Part of you wonders how you can even see in this vast expanse of nothing stretching on without end. Every time you reach out to try and grab hold of something, your hands are only met with air. You don’t realize that you’re the one emitting the light allowing you to see, glowing golden against the black backdrop around you. Continuing on and on and on and-

You shot up like a bolt of lightning, brow and back laced with a thick sweat and your chest heaving up and down like you’d come up for air after nearly drowning. Was that was that darkness was? Drowning?

It must have been, because in one moment you’d been tumbling through a sea of emptiness and the next you were sitting upright like a steel pole and gasping for air. 

You clasped at your chest as your eyes flit around, trying to make sense of what was happening and where you were. It took a second for your mind to stop spinning and your vision to come back into focus. Silence filled the air, only interrupted by a soft rhythmic beeping somewhere to your left. 

The feeling of soft polymer fabric and cold metal seeped through your thin pants and attacked your skin. Your brow furrowed as your hand drifted from your chest down to touch the fabric. It was gauzy and white, with smooth, small knitting that flowed around your legs. The sleeve draped around your arm was the same material. 

Odd. You’d never seen this clothing before in your life. 

Against the stark white of your pants, you noticed a red monitor around your finger like the ones they would put on you when you went to the doctor’s office for checkups a kid. You’d always thought that they were going to prick your finger, but they never did. 

A thousand thoughts raced through your head. 

Where am I? Is this a hospital? 

If it was a hospital, it was surely the strangest one you’d ever been in. 

The room was large and dimly lit, no doctors or nurses or any other sign of life for that matter to be seen. You couldn’t see where any of the light sources were, but somehow you could sense where they lived in the ceiling and walls, obstructed from view but buzzing with life and light. Everything around you was either a creamy white or garish orange color, like someone had taken the paint made for a Home Depot sign and thrown it over every appliance in the room. 

There were shelves and tables and monitors scattered around a chalkboard across the room. Equations and drawings had been haphazardly scribbled in white chalk against it, and you noticed supplies and wires sitting on one of the tables next to the board. Your heart jumped into your throat.

A lab. You were in a science lab. 

A pounding sounded below your ribs and your throat started constricting. Pieces of memories flashed through your mind like images on a projector screen. 

An underground laboratory. 

Schematics on tables. 

A locked door. 

A panicked heart. 

A flash of light. 

Then…

Then nothing. 

What had happened in between that burst of light and now? Why couldn’t you fill in the blank spots in your mind?

Without hesitation, you yanked the heart monitor from your finger and swung your legs off the makeshift bed you had been placed in. Your bare feet hit the floor, and you hissed at the chill you felt at the contact. 

It took you a minute to stand, your body not ready to work fully after being out for God only knows how long. Feeling rushed back to your hands as you stretched your arms, shaking your legs to wake up your senses. Your stomach let out a long, low grumble that reverberated through the room like a lion roaring in a cave. When was the last time you ate?

Your wobbly legs walked you slowly through the space as you analyzed your surroundings. The monitor next to you had gone silent on account of you severing its connection to your heartbeat, but the soft hum of the lights kept you company. 

You ran a hand over one of the tables, picking up a discarded wrench and a piece of paper with a prototype drawing on it. A kids bike, it looked like, only way cooler than any of the ones you’d had in your youth. It felt oddly out of place in a room as sterile and futuristic as this one, that an object so domestic could simultaneously exist here. 

From across the room, a low buzzing sound jarred you from your thoughts. You stilled for a moment, eyes glued to the door on the far side of the room as it opened with a melodic ding. 

You ducked down behind the orange lab table, keeping a hand on the wrench still in your grasp like a lifeline as your heart banged hard against your ribcage. 

Whoever had brought you here was coming through that door, and who knows what they wanted out of you. Information on the schematics of the machine that had nearly killed you? To run tests to see if it had affected you in any way? To lock you away because you had seen too much and now you needed to be dealt with?

Whatever the case, you were not going down without a fight. 

Your fingers closed tightly around the cool metal of the wrench as your shoulders tensed in preparation. Despite the door having opened and someone entering the lab, there was no sound of footsteps through the still air. Just the sound of low mechanical whirring. 

Second by second, it got louder as it approached you, like a creeping jungle cat purring as it stalked its prey. You silently hoped whoever it was couldn’t hear your heartbeat thumping in your chest or the way it was roaring in your ears. 

Your breath cough as a shadow rounded the corner of the table. You sprung up from your spot, raising the wrench above your head and readying to strike the intruder with all your might until you opened your eyes. You were met with nothing but air in front of you where the intruder should have been standing. A furrow creased your brow until a small mechanical sound filtered up to your ears from below your eyeline. 

Your eyes trailed down to see a small white robot looking up at you (if you could even count two vintage looking tape wheels as eyes as something that could look). It tilted its head slightly to the side, letting out another metallic sound that sounded something like “hello.”

Your shoulders drooped down as you lowered the wrench slightly, fingers loosening their grip. “Uh… hi?” 

The robot tilted its head again, held up a small metal arm, and waved at you. With a disbelieving laugh, you offered it a small wave back. It “looked” at your hand, nodding to your makeshift weapon, then back up to you. With a nervous laugh and a small shrug, you placed it back down on the table gently. The robot made a metallic noise of appreciation and wheeled around the table towards the monitor. You followed it as it began carefully putting wires and other pieces back into their proper places.

“You got a name, little guy?” you asked, still not sure why you were talking to a random machine that you weren’t even sure could understand you. It turned and gestured to its torso, so you examined it. There was little blue four in a circle on what would’ve been its chest. 

Probably its model number or something, you thought. Then your eyes drifted a little lower until they fell on a set of letters placed unevenly towards the bottom of his mid section. 

“H.E.R.B.I.E?” you asked hesitantly. The robot responded with a nod, and you offered a small smile in return. “Well, nice to meet you, H.E.R.B.I.E. Now,” you began, throwing your shoulders back and scanning the room.

“Do you know how to get out of this place?”

⟢

Johnny was not the type of guy to worry.

Sure, he worries about his family sometimes. Whether Sue is doing okay with being a new mom or if his jokes towards Ben were a little too insensitive. But even when he’s battling primordial cosmic giants or attempting to save the world for the hundredth time since he got his powers, not even a pinprick of stress seems to enter his mind. 

So why is it that he’s so concerned about you?

When the others had shown up, you’d already passed back out, head in Johnny’s lap as he monitored your pulse and tried to deal with curious civilians and impatient press photographers wanting to get an inside scoop on the Human Torch’s latest save.

They’d taken you back to the Baxter Building immediately, Reed putting you on monitors and taking your vitals to make sure you were stable. Sue found clothes to change you into from a local department store so you didn’t have to stay in the ripped up clothing you’d crash landed in. The same ones they’d all given a side eye to because they had no idea where you could have possibly found such cuts and styles.

But it had been four days and you still hadn’t woken up from the coma you were in. 

Reed said it was normal for a traumatized body to stay comatose in order to conserve energy (or at least that was what he claimed after becoming an expert in coma care overnight). He hadn’t wanted to put any needles in you for IVs or testing, especially since all four of them had agreed that would be a violation of your consent. So, Reed had told him that it was best for all of them to just leave you be and wake up in your own time, however long that would be.

Johnny tried to stay away, thinking it would be too creepy to go in and watch the random unconscious woman whom he’d just so happened to save. But every once in a while over the past few days, he would pop in to make sure you were okay. 

Like after breakfast when he was making his way down from the residential floor to the lobby to start his day. Or when he came back from flying over the streets and saving small kittens from trees to get changed for an interview. He’d stay just long enough to confirm that your breathing was even and your pulse was still there, and maybe waiting a little more to see if your eyelids would flutter open. And when he had done that, he would leave, telling H.E.R.B.I.E to keep an eye on you while the rest of them were out or asleep and to alert him if anything changed with you. 

At night, when his mind ran faster than he could fly, he was haunted by the image of you up there in the sky. The way you had glowed so brightly like a star become human. The way you had looked at him with so much fear in your eyes before you fell. And the anger and confusion that briefly replaced that fear once you were back on Earth. 

Dozens of questions plagued his every waking moment when he thought of you. Like how you’d gotten your powers, or when you’d learned to fly? What were your limitations, and how were you made of pure light? How had you gotten up into the atmosphere, and why had his watch labeled you as an “Extraterrestrial Breach?”

But the one he wanted answered the most?

Who were you?

The sound of Ben’s gruff voice and heavy footsteps jarred Johnny out of his daze. He hadn’t even realized that he was still stirring the pasta sauce counter clockwise instead of clockwise like Ben had told him to. 

“Finish up, hot stuff,” Ben grumbled. “We gotta start plating the food for Sue and Reed. Sounds like they just got Franklin down, but it sure as hell took them a while. That kid will not sleep without H.E.R.B.I.E.’s lullaby these days.” Ben glanced around the dining area as he carefully placed forks on top of the napkins. “Where is that lil’ rustbucket anyway?”

“Sent him down to check on the glowing girl,” Johnny said, fighting to sound as nonchalant as he could. Frankly, it was because he’d noticed that H.E.R.B.I.E. hadn’t updated your log since early that morning and he wanted to know that you hadn’t passed away in her sleep or gone all supernova in the lab by mistake.

Johnny turned to grab salt from the cupboard so he could avoid Ben narrowing his eyes at him. 

“You’re really starting to get obsessed with this Jane Doe, Johnny,” Ben sighed. 

“I’m not obsessed, I’m just… watching out for her,” Johnny countered. “Isn’t it our job to look after the people we save?” 

Johnny flipped the salt and pepper between his hands as he made his way over to the table, setting them down in the middle and crossing his arms at the place settings. 

Johnny nodded to the table. “Where’s the extra place setting?”

Ben scrunched up his rocky forehead. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘What do I mean’?” Johnny said, voice laced with annoyance. “I told you to set an extra place for Glow Girl in case she wakes up.”

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. “Johnny, I’m not putting out an extra plate and fork for a random woman who’s still in a coma. You heard Reed, she’s probably gonna be knocked out for a few more days. And we’re not calling her that.”

“I will literally call Rachel and tell her you don’t flush the toilet at night or wash your stubble down the sink after you-”

“Johnny,” Sue’s voice echoed across to the dining room as she made her way over to intervene. “Do you want to wake up your nephew?”

Sue’s bright blue eyes were sharp as knives, hands crossed over her chest in a reprimanding manner. Johnny opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Reed appeared behind Sue and spoke.

“Please don’t Johnny,” he began. “We just got Franklin down and there’s a forty seven percent chance that he will wake up crying if you say another word to Ben.”

Johnny was tempted to retort something about there being a forty seven percent chance of him tackling Ben to the floor the next time they argued, but one glare from his sister shut him up for good.

The food of them sat down around the table, settling in to the smell of basil infused pasta sauce and crunchy bread when a beep sounded from Reed’s watch. His eyes squinted as he brought the screen up to his face, and Johnny thought about how desperately he needed to wear his glasses full time.

“Is it Franklin?” Sue asked as she plopped the salad spoon back into the bowl and began to stand up from her spot. Reed put a gentle hand on her wrist to stop her.

“No, no. Just a message from H.E.R.B.I.E…” he replied, voice low and tentative. Reed’s gaze flitted between the three of them before coming to rest on Johnny. 

“It’s our Jane Doe. She’s awake.”

⟢

You weren’t quite sure why you were allowing yourself to follow a random robot that had just stumbled into the mysterious secluded science lab you were being kept in. 

In a better situation you would blame your poor decision making on a lack of sleep or a general disregard for your own well-being, but this time? This time you really just had no other option. 

H.E.R.B.I.E had led you through the lab and to the crisp white door he had entered through that you eventually realized was an elevator. It was kind of hard to tell by the design alone.

The elevator door opened up with a soft ding into a large living area. It was clean, but cozy, and completely retro looking with low lighting and weird abstract shapes everywhere. Across from you, you could make out a large seating area imbedded into the floor like those old-timey conversation pits your friend Gigi was obsessed with. You felt like you had just walked into a magazine spread for stylish mid-century houses. 

Clearly this was not a standard laboratory, if it even was a lab in the first place. In fact, it almost seemed like someone lived here. The smell of warm cooked food wafted through the space and combined with the fresh pine scent of the cleaner used on the floor. The more you experienced, the more you worried about being an uninvited and unwelcome guest in a stranger’s home. 

H.E.R.B.I.E. rolled forward into the foyer and rounded a corner to your left. You crept after him, peaking over your shoulder and looking for signs of other people. As you stepped into the space, you could hear H.E.R.B.I.E. making noise somewhere off to the side. In an attempt to get the robot’s attention you whisper-screamed, “H.E.R.B.I.E.! Wait! Wait, would you just-”

A motion in your periphery made your words catch in your throat. From your left, four people had stood up from a curved dinner table full of food. They stared at you in silence. You stared back, unmoving and limbs completely frozen. You shot a glare at H.E.R.B.I.E. who was now halfway between you and whoever these new people were.

“I thought you were getting me out of here,” you said through grit teeth. H.E.R.B.I.E. looked back at you, shrinking slightly at the anger lacing your tone. A pang of guilt flashed through your chest. Why were you already so attached to that damn thing?

As they shifted from the table to make their way closer to you, you moved back cautiously, one hand up in some kind of mock self defense (though you doubted it would really do anything against four people and an adorable machine). The smooth, cool feeling of the elevator door on your back stopped you from going any further. 

Shit, shit, shit! I gotta get out of here. Why the hell did I follow that stupidly cute hunk of metal?

One of the people, a man with two gray streaks shooting back into his hair from his temples like highway lines, took a step forward towards you. His face was set in a serious stare as he spoke.

“Please, don’t be alarmed,” he said, voice calm and even. “H.E.R.B.I.E was instructed to let us know once you had woken up. We’ve been monitoring you since you… landed here.” 

Landed? What the hell was he talking about? 

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” you stuttered.

A series of images flashed in your mind. An endless expanse of stars. The Sun cresting over the horizon of the Earth. Wind whipping around you. A face that you couldn’t quite make out.

None of it made any sense to you. 

Your eyes flitted over to the man standing next to him, the one whose blue eyes were boring holes into you as his lips parted in what you could only guess was awe or aggression. Your fingers slowly found the elevator button behind you, and you pressed it into the wall. 

“Listen,” you started. “I don’t know who you people are or what you want from me, but please… please, just let me leave.”

The four of them just looked at you, backs straight and bodies poised as if they were ready to face off against you at any given moment. The man with the gray streaks spoke first. 

“We aren’t going to hurt you. We just want to help.”

The woman moved forward, the air around her shimmering slightly as she did. Her eyes were serious and steely, but her tone was sincere.

“I know you’re probably scared right now, but we can help you. You just have to trust us.”

As she began walking towards you, panic seized your chest.

“Stay… stay back,” your voice wobbled out. You held up both your hands in defence, ready to push or punch or fight them off in any way you needed. 

Instead, a static feeling began buzzing in your fingertips and a warmth spread down your arms to the middle of your hands like a rushing stream into a pond. Suddenly, a blast of pure energy shot out from your palms in a burst of light, sending the four of them stumbling back into the conversation pit and toppling H.E.R.B.I.E to the ground. 

The foyer shook with the aftershock vibrations of the blast, the lights flickering and the glasses on the table off to the side shaking. In disbelief, you stared down at your hands, the glow that had been focused in the palms of your hand and the buzzing sensation that came with it slowly dissipating. The four people groaned as the elevator door dinged open. The blonde man was up first, eyes locking onto you but body unmoving. Like he was hesitating, waiting for you to do something else. And so you did.

Without another thought, you found yourself diving into the elevator behind you and smashing your hand into the button, ignoring the sound of four voices calling after you. 

⟢

Johnny cursed himself as he helped Sue up off the ground, one hand under her left bicep as Reed guided her up on the right. 

He should’ve known better than to trust someone he barely knew, especially after what had happened a last time someone mysterious came to their world from the sky. He let his guard down for one second, and had gotten his family hurt in return. Again.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Sue put a hand on his. 

“Johnny, I’m fine,” she said, brushing off her pants. 

Next to her, Reed rolled up the sleeve of his now disheveled dress shirt and looked at his watch, now beeping with an uncontrollable cacophony of noise alerts.

“Jane Doe. Her vitals are completely unstable. And that energy shock… We can’t let her go out into the streets. Not with the people at risk of getting hurt worse than us.” Reed gave Johnny a pointed look and a nod, “Johnny.”

“On it,” Johnny responded, immediately running across the room and out to the balcony. Wind whipped around him as he stared out and scanned the streets below. Without hesitating, he jumped off, igniting his body into flames and taking off like a firework across the darkened and cloudy night sky. 

He surveyed the streets below, raindrops slowly coming down in a drizzle as he flew. There was no way you could’ve gotten far, your body was in survival mode and you were in unfamiliar terrain. 

From below, he heard the grinding sound of a long car horn going off followed by the sound of a car alarm. His eyes searched feverishly until they spotted a figure clad in white clothing running in between cars. He squinted and saw small balls of light energy shooting out from your hands every few times you put your hands up to stop a car. 

None of the damage was too bad. Just a few dents in a bumper or door, a frightened or confused pedestrian. He could still get to you before anything catastrophic happened.

Johnny shot down through the street, following you around a corner he knew led to a dead end. He pushed himself, flying at breakneck speed until he spotted your frame against the dark brick of an alleyway before landing in front of you. From behind you, he could see you panting, clothes starting to stick to you with the beginning rain falling down. Slowly, he took a step forward, then another, and another until his shoe kicked a small rock. It bounced over the pavement and hit a nearby trashcan with a dull clang.

You spun around, hair wild and eyes blazing with a low glow. Johnny held up his hands hesitantly in response, both in a weird kind of truce and ready to fire back if you decided to try and blast him. Yet, deep down in the pit of his stomach, he had the feeling you wouldn’t. 

Because now, in the dark of the alley with rain pelting down on both of you and the neon street sign of a nearby restaurant being the only thing lighting up your features, Johnny could actually see you. And you didn’t look aggressive or angry or like you wanted to harm anyone. 

You looked terrified. 

Confusion was etched into your features as fear clouded your eyes. Your chest heaved and your mouth quivered as you fought back emotions hidden behind your gaze. You hair stuck to your face as the storm worsened and wind whipped around you, and Johnny couldn’t tell if it was raindrops or tears clouding your vision. 

“Please, I…” you began through a choke. “I-I don’t… I don’t know how… I don’t know what’s happening and I can’t…”

Whatever anger had formed in Johnny dissipated like it had been snuffed out by the rain. All the resentment he had begun to feel for you blasting him and his family across the room, for you possibly endangering his nephew in the process too, it disappeared. And instead, it was replaced with something different. Something he couldn’t quite name.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him like you were hoping he would have all the answers. Like he could stop and fix whatever was happening to you or at least assure you that he would try. Something about you made him want to do those things. To tell you that he and his family were going to make things right. 

So he did. 

“We just wanna talk,” he called to you, blinking back rain from getting in his eyes. You had lowered your arms down now, folding your hands into your body to conceal them. Johnny would’ve chuckled in another situation given the fact that right now you resembled a sad lost puppy more than an extraterrestrial threat. 

“Look,” he said softly. “I don’t know what’s going on here anymore than you do. But I do know that whatever it is, we will do everything in our power to try and fix it. I know if feels impossible, and that everything in you is probably screaming not to, but… I need you to trust us. Trust me.”

For a moment - a painstakingly long moment - you just looked at him, studying his face, his body language like your brain was a computer trying to make sense of him.

Then, you nodded.

“Okay.”

⟢

You weren’t sure why you let yourself be walked back into the strange building with the man who could light himself on fire, but considering it was either that or stay out in the streets in a strange yet semi-familiar city in the pouring rain by yourself, the retro future decor and super-powered family seemed like the better option.

So there you were, sitting on the saturated blue upholstery of a conversation pit couch with a blanket around your shoulders and three pairs of eyes trying not to stare at you. It was hard for them, though. Considering you’d blasted them with a flash of energy right before trying to run away from them like they were psychotic killers. 

The woman, whose name you had learned was Sue, descended into the pit and handed you a large mug full of steaming hot liquid. It smelled sweet and delicate as the scent wafted gently up to your nose.

“Some tea,” she said. “To help you warm up. It’s camomile. I hope you don’t mind, it’s all we had because someone forgot to pick up more of the variety tea bags the last grocery run.” Sue raised an eyebrow to the couch next to you, where Johnny - the guy that had chased you outside - sat slumped back with his arms crossed. Sue crossed over to where the man with grey streaks in his hair was. What did he say his name was again? Rick? Riley? Reed?

An uncomfortable silence descended over the room like a thick fog. None of you wanted to address the elephant in the room: you. Nobody knew who you were, how you’d gotten here, or what you were capable of. At least they didn’t think you were too dangerous, otherwise you figured you would’ve been locked up somewhere and tested. 

With the mug of tea in one hand, you shifted in your seat and pulled the soft fabric of the blanket around you. 

“I want… I want to apologize for before,” you began quietly, staring down into the swirling camomile warming your hand. “I, uh… I didn’t… I wasn’t…”

“It’s alright,” Reed said, “There was a forty three percent chance that you would react that way when waking up. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. We’re just glad that you’re awake and okay.”

Were you though? In the matter of what felt like a few hours, you went from finally getting your life on track to being nearly obliterated and waking up in what seemed like a different world. Not to mention these… abilities you somehow managed to possess now. 

You couldn’t explain it, but something in you felt different. As if you’d gotten stronger, supercharged with a form of energy you’d never experienced. There was a sensation, a buzzing you felt in your bones. And, as crazy as it sounded, it felt like you could sense every light in the room. Where they were located, how brightly they were burning. It shouldn’t have been possible, but then again you’d just met a man who could set himself on fire, so where could you really draw the line of possibility?

Every fiber of your being wanted to collapse into itself. To curl up into a ball and cry at the fact that nothing could ever go to plan like you hoped. It was like every time you tried to take a step forward, disaster struck and you ended up twenty steps back.

“We know you’re probably very tired,” Sue said, “but we do need to ask you some questions first.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded. Reed pulled out a pen and pad, flipping open to a new page before standing up.

“So, you said you have no recollection of how you got here, is that correct?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes… yes, that’s correct.”

“What about before you ended up here?” Sue offered as Reed paced back and forth with a contemplative look painted on his face. “There must be something you remember about what happened prior to you waking up.” 

Memories flashed in your mind again. 

A lab. Warning lights. Fearful eyes looking away as you banged on the door. That flash of light. And then-

“I was in a lab,” you blurted, squeezing your eyes shut to rid yourself of the memory. “Underground. Restricted to authorized personnel only. The place I was working at, the… United… United Change Foundation. They were running some kind of… I don’t know, experiment.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Johnny shift forward, like something you said had caught his attention and reeled him in. 

Reed stopped his pacing and looked at you. “The United Change Foundation? You’re sure?”

“Yes, that was the name, I’m sure of it,” you answered. “My friend, Annika - she got me the job. Why?”

Reed locked eyes with Sue before turning to you. 

“Because there is no United Change Foundation. It doesn’t exist.”

You brows knit together quizzically. “No… no, it does. I worked there. The United Change Foundation of New York. It was founded after the Blip.”

“The what?” Ben piped up from the kitchen. “What the hell is a Blip?”

Your head whipped around to him. “The Blip. Come on. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

They all shook their heads. Part of you wanted to scream and rip your hair out. Now you were not only in a strange super-powered family’s house, but now they were also gaslighting you over factual historical events that you’d lived through.

“Okay, okay. What exactly were they working on in this… United Change Foundation?” Reed continued. 

“I don’t know. Something they called the… I.D.E.A. machine, I think.” 

The fuzz was starting to wear off from your brain slowly but surely. You thought back to that day, to that engineer with the glasses and bright white lab coat. The three billionaires standing there and pretending like you didn’t even exist. 

“They said it was based off of Tony Stark’s time machine schematic. It stood for something like… like, Interdimensional… Energy Acceleration - no! Accelerator. Accelerator, yeah. That’s what it was called.”

The four of them exchanged looks, shifting uncomfortably at the name you had given them. They all exchanged knowing looks, and Sue whispered, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” to Reed. 

Johnny piped up first, “There’s no way. Those are all just theories, I mean - literally nothing has been proven. No experiments have yielded definite results, you saw that at the conference last month.”

Ben spoke next, “Yeah, but given the fact that we dealt with an intergalactic flying woman on a surf board I’d say we shouldn’t rule it out.”

Intergalactic what-now?

Sue and Reed seemed to be talking to each other telepathically. Sue’s bright blue eyes seemed to hold a secret she wasn’t willing to share.

You leaned forward. “What? What’s wrong.”

She turned to you, clasping her hands together as if to brace you for some kind of shocking news.

“Is it possible…” she began. “And, mind you, this is purely hypothetical, but… is it possible that you’re from a different dimension?”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

It was like a light bulb went off in your head. Suddenly everything was making sense. The weird clothing. The retro architecture. The inexistence of places and people you knew for a fact were real. At least not in your world.

Your world.

Suddenly the room seemed to tilt sideways and a wave of sickness boiled up inside your stomach at the prospect of jumping timelines. 

Reed’s voice was muffled in your ear as he continued, “We’d have to run some tests, of course. Take DNA and matter samples from you and cross reference them with our own databases to be sure.”

Holy shit. That damn machine… worked. It worked, and now I’m stuck in an alternate dimension.

Fucking scientists.

You sunk back into your chair, mouth hung open and shoulders sagging. The mug of tea began to slip from your shaky hands, but Reed stretched out his hand across the room to take it from you and gently place it on the table to the side. It was the least shocking thing about the night, so you barely paid it any mind.

 “I don’t… They said… They said it worked, but… the testing, it wasn’t ready for human trials. Then they…”

You let your head fall into your hands. Once again, your life had been upended by forces out of your control.

“God, I hate Tony Stark. This wouldn’t have happened without his stupid machines.”

Reed pondered this for a second. “Well, I’m not sure who this… Stark fellow is. If I could get my hands on schematics or anything it would be much easier. “Energy Accelerator,” though… that could be something to start with.”

You felt Reed gently put a hand on your trembling shoulder and you raised your head from your hands just enough to see his face.

“I’ll get to researching everything I can about interdimensional travel and alternate reality theories. You, my friend, should go and rest. Make sure your body is fully recovered. I’ll be needing your mind sharp for all of the questions I’ll have by the morning.” He gave you a reassuring nod. “We’re going to get you back. I swear it.”

You could feel your head nod, but the rest of you was numb. And something inside you told you that even Reed doubted the promise he had just made.

⟢

You couldn't sleep. 

Whether it was the unnerving quiet of this universe’s Manhattan or the fact that you were still coming to terms with the fact that you were in a literal different universe, you weren’t really sure. But somewhere in between the soft sound of Reed and Sue humming their son to sleep and the deep silence of the wee morning hours you found yourself missing - no, longing for the deep rumble of your roommate Jayce’s snoring or the constant hourly horn of the train leaving the station. It was a kind of home sickness you’d never thought you’d feel for a city that didn’t seem to care whether you lived or suffered there. 

Your mind had been reeling with millions of thoughts since you’d locked yourself away in the room Sue had so graciously given you. It had taken around half an hour for you to calm down from the panic that seized your body and froze your lungs, and your eyes still itched and your head still throbbed from the tears that had poured from your face. 

The ceiling above you, as you’d found from staring at it for the past three hours straight, had two cracks in it. They ran from opposite directions, squiggly and jagged and seemingly so far away that they never should have touched. But if you squinted hard enough in the darkness you could see that somewhere between the shadow from the window and the ceiling fan they managed to connect. 

The past few weeks kept replaying in your mind. 

You thought about Annika. Sweet, kind Annika who had just wanted to help you get a job. 

You thought about how nervous you’d been during your interview, sure as anything that the woman who was conducting the meeting could tell that you had thrifted your blazer for seven dollars from that secondhand shop down the street instead of purchasing it new for the original price of three hundred. 

And then you thought back to that day when you had blindly followed Helen down into that lab without even bothering to question her. How could you have been so stupid? Since when did you just do what everyone told you without thinking of your own well being? When did you become like this? So meek and mild mannered and unwilling to say no or do what you wanted to?

You’d tried sleeping it off, tossed and turned to no avail until you ended up in a makeshift nest of covers and blankets and sheets where a pristine bed had once been. But one nagging piece kept stabbing the quiet corners of your brain even when you thought exhaustion would finally take over.

They left you. 

They left you there to die. 

They left you they left you they left you they left you they-

Suddenly the air was too thick and your chest was too small and breathing felt like physical labor. You sprang from your bed and trudged to the door, desperately needing to get out of the confines of the room so you would be able to breathe again. 

After desperately trying to open it as quietly as you could with shaking hands and soft cries you’d finally managed to get out without making a sound. You rushed silently down the hall and into the large common room you’d been in earlier when you’d nearly killed half of the Fantastic Four. That was what they called themselves, right?

You crossed through the conversation pit, socks sliding over the unbearably soft carpet, and didn’t stop until you had reached the large floor to ceiling windows. Part of you figured that seeing the skyline of a city you knew so well would help ground you back in reality and get you out of your mind. But you couldn’t because this wasn’t even your reality. 

The view in front of you was all wrong. Buildings the wrong size or shape or vaguely the same but with something just off about them dotted your view. The signs were all the same style, painted with some kind of sixties flair or photographed and airbrushed like vintage magazines. It was nothing compared to the garish lights and screens plastered with ads you were so used to. The closest thing you could find to an LED board was the sign for the diner down the street blazing in neon blue and purple.

Your chest held a hollow ache as you finally came to terms with the fact that this - all of this wrongness and change and familiar unfamiliarity - was now your life. There was no way for you to get back to your old job, your old friends, your old New York, your old fam-

Behind you, someone cleared their throat. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, furiously wiping at your face with the sleeves of the pajama set Ben had gone and picked up for you from a late night department store. The dark blue ones with the tiny little stars embroidered on them.

You sniffed as you turned around, locking eyes with Johnny where he stood in the conversation pit a few feet away from you. He had on a simple white t-shirt and blue striped pajama pants. Relatively normal for a guy who could set himself on fire and lived in a multimillion dollar high rise.

“Uh… sorry,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just heard a noise and thought… I don’t know, maybe another one of those killer cybernetic chimpanzees from a few years ago came back and broke in.”

The statement was so absurd and the way he had said it was so deadpan that somehow, despite everything that you had been feeling, a confused snort escaped from you.

“Did you… did you just say ‘killer cybernetic chimpanzee’?” you said through a painfully dry throat and stuffy sinuses. 

Johnny shrugged and eased himself onto the floor to sit, letting his legs stretch out in front of him on the teal carpet. “Yeah. Some dude made them to try and cause trouble in the city. Called them his “Super-Apes” or something like that.”

A small smile crept onto your face as you moved away from the window and slowly made your way back down into the conversation pit. Why you were willingly getting so close to a random stranger that had chased you down a few hours ago, you didn’t know. Honestly, you were beginning to question your own judgment a bit.

“So how did you defeat these… ‘Super-Apes’?” you asked with a sniff, lowering yourself down to sit criss-cross across from him. 

Johnny leaned back on his arms. “Oh, I didn’t defeat them. Reed did. I was off doing much more important work. Putting out fires, saving old ladies. You know, the usual.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“And, well, thank God I didn’t because Reed had to go do this whole seminar on how it wasn’t technically animal cruelty because he only hit them out of self defense and they were literally brainwashed cyborgs trying to destroy the city and it sparked this huge debate and yeesh. You do not want to be on the receiving end of an angry phone call from a conservationist claiming the only reason you donated to their ape sanctuary was to save your own skin.”

You glanced at him with narrowed eyes, not truly believing him but also knowing that out of everything you’d experienced the past few hours somehow killer cyborg apes made the most sense.

“Super-Apes?” you questioned again.

He nodded, lips pursed. “Super-Apes.”

Half of you wanted to roll your eyes at his rambling, chalk it up to an overindulged sense of grandeur that he had for himself and whatever playful disdain he felt for his brother-in-law to get him to tell you such a story. But the other half of you couldn’t help but smile because you felt like he was doing it to distract you from the absolute absurdity of your situation. 

Johnny sat up straight. “I didn’t get to properly introduce myself earlier.” He extended his hand, holding your gaze with his deep blue eyes.  “I’m Johnny, Johnny Storm.”

You introduced yourself to him, full government name and all, and shook his hand. He was warm to the touch, his hands slightly rough. Not in a calloused way, but in a way that let you know that he wasn’t all flash and fire powers. That he could actually work, too.

As you retracted your hand, you felt a sudden loss of the heat of his skin against yours. You paid it no mind.

“I’m really sorry,” you said softly, toying with your sleeve-covered hands in your lap. “This must be a huge imposition on all of you. I mean, you guys don’t even know who I am and you’re letting me stay here and I have no idea how to get back and I practically almost killed you guys and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Johnny exclaimed, putting his hands up to stop you. “First of all, you definitely couldn’t kill us even if you tried. Between Sue’s forcefields, Reed’s reflexes, and Ben’s… well, you know rockiness, we’d be pretty much fine no matter what happened. And, I mean, I can set myself on fire, so. There’s that.”

He was probably right. You still weren’t even sure what had happened in the first place. Had that energy come out of you? 

“Second of all, you’ve been the most normal guest-from-space-on-Earth we’ve ever seen, and considering our track record that’s a pretty great thing.” Johnny’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “What really matters right now is… are you okay?”

The question felt like a sucker punch to the gut. You didn’t look at him. In fact you couldn’t. The tears were pinpricking your eyes again and you palmed at your eyes to make them go away.

Were you okay? Could you even be okay if you weren’t home? If you couldn’t return back to normal?

“Honestly?” you looked at him, his intense focus on you and only you so unfamiliar and jarring it nearly made you choke on your spit. “Honestly, no. No, I’m not okay. I’m terrified. Not just because I’m in a completely different dimension where everything seems to be behind around sixty years, but…” 

Your gaze traveled down to your hands. The buzzing sensation you’d briefly felt before when you’d blasted a literal beam of light from them briefly returned before it fizzled out again. “Now I have… something. A power? I don’t even know what to call it.” 

A long exhausted sigh left you.

“Whatever happened to me… it changed me. And I don’t know if I can figure out what it is, let alone control it. What if… what if I…”

What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone? What if I do something worse?

Johnny looked at you with sympathetic eyes. You knew deep down he’d probably felt the same way with his powers. Something as destructive and volatile as fire… You wondered how scared he must have been the first time he used them. If he even got scared.

Johnny pondered your words for a moment before blurting out, “What if I taught you?”

Your brows furrowed. 

“I mean, light and fire are kind of the same. They both use combustion as a foundation, both are forms of heat and energy. As long as you’re stuck here I could help you figure out what your powers are, their limits, even how to control them. And I’m an excellent teacher, so you’d be getting a great deal on free lessons,” he joked. 

 You’d hardly even thought about how you’d gotten your abilities, let alone how to control and potentially master them. You weren’t even sure if you wanted them. They’d just been thrust upon you because of other people’s selfish mistakes in your world.

As if Johnny could sense your apprehension, he added, “You don’t have to answer right now, just… Just think about it.”

No response came from you. Your head was too busy swimming with thoughts of impending doom and fear of never returning back to your old life. Even if it was a life you hadn’t really wanted to live. 

“Hey,” Johnny said, breaking the silence. “We’ll find a way to get you back. I promise.”

You offered him a nod in return, forcing a small smile onto your face. 

And for some reason unbeknownst to you, you believed him. 

⟢

Johnny walked you back to your room, which - conveniently - was right across the hall from his. You closed the door first, too afraid that he’d see your restless bed-nest and judge your messiness as a guest to say anything more than a quick good-night. He gave you a wave and a ‘see you tomorrow’ in response before you clicked the door shut. 

As you made your way back to bed, ignoring the way the clock said it was four o’clock in the morning or the way your head still hurt from too many emotions and interdimensional jet lag, you felt a little lighter inside. Of all the people that could’ve talked you down from your ledge of anxiety and rippling worries, the hotshot fire boy was not who you’d expected. You felt like it was the universe playing some kind of sick joke on you. Like tomorrow you’d wake up and he’d decide you weren’t worth his time or effort and you’d be left on your own again. But for now, you only had the set up and no cosmic punch line.

A superhero made of fire and an interdimensional traveler walk into a conversation pit. 

And somehow they leave with a budding friendship. 

⟢

In the few weeks you’d been on what you’d fondly referred to as “The New Earth” you’d learned three things. 

The Fantastic Four were the most beloved, respected, and honored heroes you had ever seen in existence. Even in your world, with the incredible feats of the Avengers and other rogue heroes and vigilantes, super-abled people very rarely had an approval rating as consistently high as the Fantastic Four. It was like they were an extension of everyone’s family.

Being attached to the Fantastic Four, even if it was just as a random guest in their home (which you had come to learn was called the Baxter Building) came with unexpected and sometimes unwanted attention and questioning. Thankfully, at least one of the four members of the team were with you at all times to help you avoid questions and impromptu press conferences.

As long as you were stuck on another planet without any real responsibilities other than getting home, you needed to pull your own weight and show your hosts that you could contribute something to their lives too. 

Most of your time had been spent with Reed in his lab. He’d become pretty much an expert in multiversal theories and interdimensional traveling, telling you it wasn’t that hard given that their previous missions into deep outer space gave him a great jumping off point. 

You tried your best to be helpful, to give him any and all information that might be helpful: names, dates, locations, differences in history, landmarks, and culture between your world and theirs. You’d even agreed for Reed to take some samples - a piece of skin from a hangnail, a strand of hair, a vile of saliva - to study to see if your genetic makeup was any different than that of a normal human of their world. 

But honestly, you weren’t much of a help to him at all. His overestimation of how much you knew about the project that led you here had meant most of the times you simply ended up floating around the room, silently trailing behind Reed as he worked without end on insane equations and new prototypes. And every time, it left you feeling guilty that you couldn’t contribute more. 

So, you decided to do something about it.

It had been a while since that night you and Johnny had talked in the conversation pit, but his offer to train you still stuck in your head. Part of you felt as though you had been given these powers for a reason, no matter how crazy your situation was. But still, you knew that the best way to help was to learn and gain control of your situation.

Which is how you ended up alone with Johnny for the third time this week. 

The large room you two had been using for training was near silent, large and covered in various protective paneling that glinted from the dim ceiling lights. 

“It was a precaution in case one of us, y’know, went berserk or lost control of our powers or something.” Johnny had said.

And there, in the middle of the foam-padded floor, you stood face to face with Johnny. Your brows were crunched together in concentration as your eyes shot daggers into your shaking hands. The sound of Johnny’s voice in front of you was barely registering in your ears.

“Try to focus on the energy in your body, make it go straight into your hands,” he said, standing in front of you with his arms crossed. “Visualize the ball of light, and then try and will it to happen.”

You fought down a scoff. Johnny always made it sound like it was so easy to just will energy into existence. Your hands were shaking with exertion, your forehead beaded with sweat as you tried to concentrate harder to make anything, feel anything. A spark, a flash, a little orb of energy. But nothing.

You gasped and let your hands flop down to your sides in defeat. Johnny pursed his lips.

“Okay, alright, that’s… Not bad, not bad,” he spoke, rubbing his hands together. “Concentration was good, now we’ve just gotta work on-”

“Oh come off it, Johnny. We both know that was complete and utter shit,” you grumbled, pushing hair away from your sweaty face. Frustration was beginning to eat away at you two hours into the training session.

Johnny shook his head in response.

“No, it really wasn’t that bad. We just have to work on trying to get the light to come out of your hands, that’s all.”

“It’s been three days and the most I’ve been able to do is make the lights flicker a bit, and honestly? I think that was just H.E.R.B.I.E. messing with the power to make me feel better.” You flopped down onto the floor and put your head in your hands. “Let’s just face the fact that I’m probably never going to get it.”

Johnny was quick to kneel down in front of you, shock bleeding through his face at your sudden dejection. “Whoa there, Negative Nelly, that is no attitude to have in your first week of training.” 

You scoffed at him, looking across the room to avoid his gaze.

“Hey, look at me,” he said gently. For a moment your eyes lingered on the door on the far side wall before drifting back to him.

“It takes time,” Johnny whispered. “Just because you don’t get it today, doesn’t mean you won’t get it tomorrow. It took the four of us months to learn our powers and even longer to master them completely. You just need to be patient, and believe in yourself, okay?”

A reluctant nod silenced him, but only for a fleeting moment. 

“Stand up,” he commanded gently. 

You glanced at him through tired eyes. “Why?”

He held out his hand to you. “Just trust me.”

Your eyes flicked between his hand and his face, contemplating listening to a man you still technically didn’t really know that well. Then you took it, allowing Johnny to help you up of the ground. 

The two of you were now standing right in front of the other. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You wondered if your powers would give you some weird side effect too. Maybe if you broke your wrist your arm would light up like a glowstick. 

Your hands were still intertwined. You tried to pull yours away, but Johnny tightened his grip gently. 

“Not so fast, I’m gonna need that,” he said with a smirk. Your brow quirked up in confusion as he guided your hand to his chest, letting it rest right above the spot where his heart was.

Panic seized you at the contact, and once again you tried to bring your hand back to your side. “I don’t think-”

But Johnny’s touch was firm, keeping your hand in place beneath his.

“Trust me,” he whispered. He caught your eyes, deep blue hues meeting yours in a silent plea. 

Your brain was telling you that this was all too weird. The powers, the dimension hopping, the training, and now whatever Johnny was trying to do here. It all felt completely illogical to follow along to.

But something in your gut told you that it was okay, that you could and maybe should trust him. So, you simply gave a slight dip of your head in agreement. 

“Okay,” Johnny breathed. “Now… close your eyes.”

“I really don’t see how this-”

“Just,” Johnny narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, “do it. Please.”

With a huff, you obeyed, and Johnny muttered a simple “thank you” as you squeezed your eyes shut.

You could feel the gentle, constant pound of Johnny’s heart through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the warmth of his fingers holding your hand in place. The urge to pull your hand back to your side itched at your arm, but you kept it in place.

“Do you feel my heartbeat?” he asked in a low voice.

You nodded.

“Okay,” Johnny started. “Now, I want you to focus on your heartbeat. Feel it beating, just like mine. Feel it giving you life, pushing that life force throughout your body. Through your muscles, through your veins, all in the form of energy.”

The thought was uncomfortable, but you focused anyway, allowing your mind to slip into the deepest details of yourself.

“Imagine that energy you feel as tiny particles of light and power throughout your body. Think of them as part of you, an extension. Do you feel it?”

Strangely enough, you could. There was a difference than before when you were trying so hard to concentrate that you most certainly popped a blood vessel. Now, you were at ease, breathing and feeling the connection of every part of you. And you could sense the smallest particles of energy inside you, pulsing with their own life force as if they were a million little hearts. They flowed like water through your body.

With another nod from you, Johnny continued on.

“Okay, I want you to focus on your hand now. Find that energy inside you and imagine it all just… flowing down your arm and pooling into your hand like - like a river into a bay. Allow the energy to flow through you as an extension, knowing that you are in control.”

So you did. The buzzing feeling that you felt through all of your limbs you now focused into your right arm. It traveled from your clavicle to your shoulder, down the expense of your arm before wrapping around your wrist and stopping in the palm of your hand. It was a feeling you’d never experienced before, a warmth that made you feel strong, powerful. Alive.

You slowly opened your eyes to see Johnny already looking at you, mouth quirked up in a half smile. Your gaze drifted down to where your hand sat on top of his chest. Beneath your fingertips, a brilliant golden light was shimmering, like a miniature Sun peaking out from behind tree branches. It was constant, humming, controlled. So unlike the blasts that had accidentally escaped from your hands a few weeks prior. 

A laugh of disbelief fell past your lips as you slowly removed your hand from its spot over Johnny’s heart. When you turned your palm over, you could see a little ball of energy forming in your hand, condensing and glowing brightly. 

“I did it,” you breathed. “I actually… did it!” You looked up at him. “How did you know that would help?”

He shrugged. “Because it did for me.”

In front of you, Johnny held up his own hand lit in small burning flames. He brought it next to yours, the lights from both of your powers complementing each other in different shades of oranges yellows and golds. You glanced up at him, locking eyes as he offered you a real smile this time.

“I told you,” he said. “Fire and light. Perfect pair.”

⟢

Sundays were relatively quiet at the Baxter Building. No conferences or charities to attend. And there were rarely any interviews or people in need of saving. Even Reed let himself take a break from his endless equations and models to spend time with Sue and Franklin. It was like even the world knew that their most beloved family needed a day off too.

Which is why family dinner should have come as no surprise to you.

It wasn’t like they didn’t always have it. In the month you’d been with them you’d come to notice that each Sunday they would prepare a meal and sit down at seven o’clock sharp to eat together. It was something intimate, ritualistic even about this family. Something that made your heart ache and long for a time when you too could’ve had something like that. 

Most days you would just stay in your room and pretend to be asleep or sequester in the training room during the dinner hours so you didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness. You didn’t want to impose on them any more than you already were. 

But tonight was different. 

You’d been getting set up in the training room for another session when it happened. 

Your powers were getting stronger, more controlled. You could easily summon energy and were getting better about the precision and impact of your blasts. You were even starting to get control over what Johnny had dubbed “The Glow” - the light that you could emit from your limbs at will. Now you used your hand in place of a night light when you had to get up in the middle of the night.

You were wrapping your hands with some boxing tape when a familiar whirr broke you from your thoughts. H.E.R.B.I.E. rolled onto the training mats before stopping in front of you, his little metal face gazing up as he handed you a slip of paper. 

“What’s this?” you asked, setting your training tape down on the floor and replacing it with the note. The pale blue paper had been carefully folded in four with neat edges. You unwrapped it, raising an eyebrow at H.E.R.B.I.E. in questioning before reading it softly to yourself. 

I know you said you don’t want to impose, but Sue literally can’t stand thinking about you being by yourself every Sunday. Come to dinner, 7pm sharp in the dining room. We have plenty of room.

- Johnny

P.S. You could never impose

A soft smile had overtaken your lips as you folded the paper back up and carefully put it in the pocket of your pants, checking the time on the watch Reed had made for you (nearly identical to the ones the rest of the Fantastic Four wore). 6:45. Plenty of time for you to run to your room, change, and be on time for dinner. 

“Well,  H.E.R.B.I.E., I guess practice is going to have to wait tonight.”

⟢

You hadn’t felt this warm inside in a long time. 

Whether it was the laughter, stories recounted through multiple differing perspectives, Franklin’s desire to play peekaboo with the napkins, or the taste of home cooked pasta and meatballs it didn’t matter. You felt different. Good. And good was a feeling that had left you a while ago. 

“So then, Johnny decided to wear flammable clothing to our first interview,” Ben said, chuckling. “And we ended up getting a call in the middle of shooting. After we helped save everyone, Johnny had to speed back to the Baxter building and hope nobody saw him when he flamed off.”

Johnny fumbled with his napkin and fought back an annoyed glare. “I told you that in confidence, Ben.”

“Johnny,” Reed began as he wiped some sauce from Franklin’s smiling face, “You of all people should know that this family does not keep secrets. No matter how embarrassing they are.”

Johnny groaned and rolled his eyes as Sue playfully pushed his shoulder. A delicate smile had filled in at your mouth at the lighthearted banter. The easy conversation and joyful anecdotes that this super-powered family shared with one another without tiring. It made you wistful for a time in your life that didn’t exist. One where you had a family just like this.

Sue turned to you as Ben’s laughter died down. “Enough of us talking about ourselves,” she said, blue eyes glinting in the dim lighting. “What about you? Do you have any family?”

Suddenly you choked on the glass of water you’d brought up to your mouth, sputtering as you frantically brought the napkin from your lap to dry up the water that was now leaking down your chin.

“Sorry, sorry!” you blubbered. From across the table, Franklin laughed as if he were pleased with the fact that you’d created such a scene.

The question made your heart stand still for a moment, something icy and cold constricting your chest at the subject. 

Family. 

“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this. It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t here!”

“I needed you! Don’t you get that? I needed you and you weren’t there, and now she’s gone and I barely know you anymore!”

“That isn’t my fault! Come on, you know that!”

“To me it is! Now get out. I never want to see you again.”

“No. No, no, no, no, please. Please, don’t say that. Please, you’re my-”

“I said, GET OUT!”

A hitched breath caused your eyes to focus back in on the table. You hadn’t even realized how silent it had gotten, or how shaky your hands were until you folded them in your lap.

You surveyed the table, the four people around you. They were all waiting, staring intently at your face as they let you search for an answer. 

But you didn’t have one.

So you improvised.

“No. It’s just me,” you said quietly, trying your best to keep your tone as neutral as possible. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ben said, sincerity dripping from his voice. From the seat next to you, you could see Johnny’s eyes soften with pity. 

“It’s fine, really!” you interjected. “I’ve got some great friends, so they’re kind of like my pseudo-family.” Or at least they were. 

You thought back to the last time you had seen them. How you’d stormed out of the restaurant after throwing a pity party for yourself. You wondered if they even knew you were missing. Part of you wondered if they would even care after how you’d acted, and a wave of guilt washed over you.

A gentle hand covered yours. You looked up to see Sue smiling at you, warm and kind and completely earnest. 

“Well, if it’s alright with you, you could be an honorary member of our family,” she said. The others nodded in agreement. 

You tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you forced out a smile and a quiet “thank you” before the conversation shifted to more lighthearted topics like music or entertainment or the fact that you’d experienced pop culture they didn’t even know existed. But something in the back of your mind burned, as if your body wanted to set itself on fire for not being completely truthful with these endlessly kind people. Instead, you kept on a happy face and tried to stay in the moment with them.

What they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them.

⟢

The weeks went on in similar fashion.

You would train with Johnny most days when he wasn’t out doing Fantastic Four business, help Reed in his lab by providing samples and information about your world when he needed you, and assisted H.E.R.B.I.E. with chores and other work around the Baxter Building. Sometimes you would even find yourself watching Franklin for an hour while the rest of the Fantastic Four debriefed in Reed’s lab about problems or projects.

But still, it felt inadequate to you. With the privilege of having food, a mentor, and a safe roof over your head as a stranger in a brand new world, the feeling of needing to prove yourself worthy of having such things without a cost was eating away at you. 

So you mentioned it. Casually of course, so as not to make a big deal of it. It happened one day as you stood in the kitchen, unpacking brand new bags of groceries chock full of vegetables and spices that would be used in the family’s meals for the week. 

Sue had become a close friend and confidant in the two months you’d stayed with them. She knew about your family life, your job, your childhood. It felt nice to have someone who was willing to listen. A girl friend like the ones you missed so dearly from back home.

It was a Friday night when you popped the question.

“I was wondering if I could come with you to one of your next meetings?” you asked meekly as you turned a can of tomato puree in your hand. “Or maybe even a charity event? Something, anything really. Just to… I don’t know, help out more.”

“I’d love to bring you to the next meeting for the Future Foundation, but I’m afraid you’d need security clearance just to get into the building,” Sue answered tentatively.

Your shoulders deflated, and you nodded your head solemnly in understanding. 

“That makes sense,” you said. “Kind of feel stupid for asking now.”

Sue placed an apple down on the counter before crossing her arms. There was a silence in the air for a moment as she thought.

“You know, Johnny is going down into town on some errands tomorrow,” Sue began, a slight lilt of mischief in her voice. “Maybe you should join him, start learning more about what it is that we do in this world. Starting on the ground level.”

You could feel an unwelcome heat start to rise to your cheeks. “I don’t know, Sue… That just kind of seems like his thing, and… and I’d probably just slow him down. Plus, he’s so popular and I really wouldn’t want to impose-”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t be,” Sue responded. “He’s always complaining about having to do stuff alone. Says that we’re treating him like a pack mule because he can fly as if we couldn’t just take the Fantasticar instead. Besides, I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind bringing you along.”

Johnny’s voice echoed through the foyer as he approached the kitchen. “Johnny wouldn’t mind bringing who along to what?”

“Again with the third person,” Sue muttered, turning to her brother. “I was just saying that you wouldn’t mind bringing our lovely guest with you on your errands tomorrow. She was explaining how she wants to help out more, and I figured that would be the perfect opportunity for her.”

Johnny nodded without hesitation. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Plus you’d save me from having to deal with everything by myself. I’m a hot commodity these days.” 

He winked at you, grabbing an apple from the fruit dish before sauntering off down the hall. 

So that was how you ended up waiting on the sidewalk of Main Street while Johnny - now surrounded by at least fifteen of his eager fans - signed yet another round of autographs on random things being shoved his way. 

You would’ve laughed at the sheer chaos of it all if you weren’t so overwhelmed by how many people were crowding around him now. All of them were clamoring for him to sign something - a magazine, a hat, a tissue. Someone was even holding out their shoe sole-up in front of him. 

A small group of girls, no older than high school age, had gathered nearest him with wide eyes and fingers twirling their hair. One of them had a magazine under her arm, now complete with Johnny’s signature on top of his photographed right shoulder. If you squinted you could make out the miniature print detailing what was inside.

The Human Torch: Find out what kind of girl makes the heart of even the world’s hottest man set ablaze.

A strange, unknown feeling settled in your stomach as you pried your eyes from the cover to study Johnny again. He was smiling, though it was somewhat tight and didn’t quite reach his eyes. The charming nature he always had was in full effect, but something told you there was still an uncomfortable feeling bubbling beneath the surface. You knew well enough what it was like to hide things. 

Johnny glanced up from his spot within the circle of people at you standing off to the side with the bags you’d picked up with canned food for one of the homeless shelters in the area. You shifted uncomfortable in your place as you scanned around the street, watching passerbys and cars and anything else that would take you away from possibly intruding on his time with his fans.

Johnny suddenly cleared his throat. “Thank you guys so much for all the love and support. I really have to get going now, though. Duty calls.” 

A few of the girls whined as he pushed his way out of the circle. One of the men patted his shoulder as he left and told him to “keep up the good work.”

You handed Johnny one of the food-filled bags before following him down the street, trying to keep up with his quick pace. To your surprise, the crowd dispersed and people went about their day like normal once you two had left. It was so strange, so unlike your world where people would have bombarded any hero or celebrity they met until eventually things got too out of hand and the police had to get involved. 

From beside you, Johnny was silent which, given his general disposition, was completely out of character. If you spoke up, asked him about it, would you be completely out of place? Could you even consider yourself close enough to him at this point to act like that?

“Does it ever get, I don’t know, tiring?” you asked earnestly.

Johnny frowned in confusion. “What?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. The whole superhero-celebrity thing.” The warmth of the Sun on your face was cut off by a cool breeze from between the buildings. “I mean, being in the spotlight all the time has got to be exhausting. It’s like having your life under a microscope.”

Johnny scoffed, “Yeah, especially when everyone is obsessed with every minute detail of your life.”

A glance towards Johnny let you catch the sour, defeated look on his face. You shifted the bag in your hands slightly. 

“Yeah, I kind of noticed they have this hang up about your…” you trailed off as you remembered the girls unashamedly flirting with Johnny and the cover of the magazine they shoved towards his face claiming to contain a comprehensive guide to his “ideal type of woman.” Whatever that meant.

“My love life?” Johnny finished.

You cringed, afraid you’d just hit a sore spot with him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright,” he chuckled. “Honestly, I’m so used to people speculating about it that I don’t even think about it much. It’s something that I don’t ever get to talk about with people. Just kind of deal with it on my own. That’s how all the casanovas operate.” He smiled smugly and sent you a playful wink.

You rolled your eyes at his joke, knowing that the only thing you could always count on with him was egotistical humor as a defense mechanism.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Well if you ever… I don’t know, felt the need… You can talk to me about it. That is, if you want. I don’t mind.”

Johnny’s brows arched in surprise as he stopped and turned to you. “Are you serious?”

You nodded. Johnny thought for a moment, then turned back straight and continued walking at a slower pace.

“Okay, well,” he started, sounding unsure of himself. “Ever since I became, well, a global icon-”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“Hey, that’s what all the magazines say!” Johnny protested. You felt the urge to playfully elbow him in the side, but denied yourself the pleasure.

“Anyway, when we became famous it was like our worlds turned upside down.” Another gentle breeze blew past the two of you, pushing through his golden hair like leaves in autumn. It looked so soft, like grass in the warm light of a sunset.

“Ben was fine because most people didn’t bother him once they got to know him. I think it’s partially because he looks so different, half the time no one knew what to say to him. So he became the independent one, the lone wolf if you will.” Johnny sighed, “And then with Reed and Sue, they already had each other, you know. They were the golden couple, the perfect romance that could do no wrong. Everyone knew them and loved them and wanted to be just like them. So when it came to me, everyone kind of assumed I had to have someone like they did. When I didn’t… well, it opened up a whole breeding ground for rumors and assumptions and…”

Johnny trailed off, but you could hear in his voice how frustrating it was. To have people constantly in your business, speculating about who you were with or what kind of person you’d be most likely to fall in love with. It was almost as if the whole world was trying to figure him out before he even got the chance to.

“The whole “World’s Most Eligible Bachelor” thing? That’s not me. I mean it is, technically. And, don’t get me wrong, I am definitely a catch, but… it’s not the only thing about me, y’know? Like… like, I’m a pilot! I’ve been to space, for God’s sake. I played football in high school and soccer in junior high. And… and I really like cars, too. I like looking at the makes and models and finding out how they work. And I love space. More than I love anything else, I think. But just because I can do this-” He quickly ignited his hand and waved it around in the air for a brief moment before letting the flames dissipate and his hand drop back to his side. “-none of that matters. I’m the Human Torch, first and foremost. Not just Johnny. Never just Johnny.”

A silence fell over you two as you soaked in his words. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “That was… that was a lot. I didn’t mean to just spring it on you like that.”

“No, don’t apologize,” you answered gently. “Actually… thank you, for opening up. For feeling comfortable enough to share that with me.”

For a brief moment, you let your eyes glance to your right where Johnny was walking. He’d quietly moved you to the inside of the sidewalk away from the street, a small gesture that you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or just second nature for him. Your eyes danced along the curve of his jaw, the set of his eyes, the blonde hair that ruffled slightly in the wind. 

When you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than the confident, nerdy guy who’d helped you home from the alley that stormy night. The one that had talked you down a ledge your first night in this world. The one that was teaching you how to use your powers and sharing his life with you in a way you couldn’t comprehend. 

He wasn’t the icon on the billboard or heartthrob on the magazine cover. He was the guy that always made pasta sauce with red pepper flakes stirred in because that was how his sister liked it. The one who did scary voices when he read books to his nephew and thought no one could hear just to hear him squeal in delight. The one who was polite, and sweet, and kind to everyone he met not because of an image, but just because that was who he was.

“For what it’s worth,” you began, tentatively. “To me you’re just Johnny. Not the Human Torch or the “World’s most eligible bachelor,” or whatever they’re calling you now. Just Johnny. Always Johnny.”

Johnny stopped abruptly, forcing you to pause with him. His voice was soft and quiet in response.

“Thank you.”

Then, he locked eyes with you, and for a moment it felt like everything else seemed to blur. The pavement melted into the shop windows. You didn’t even know where the bright cerulean sky had gone because it seemed to swirl into his eyes. All you could see was him, sharp and in focus and real in front of you. 

You looked away first and continued walking, desperately fighting down whatever unfamiliar warm thing was trying to bloom in your chest. 

And Johnny, from a few paces behind you, stayed silent for the first time since you’d met him.

Unbeknownst to you, he cherished the words you said more than any praise he’d ever received. 

And a part of him started to think that if he ever had to make a choice between the two, he wouldn’t hesitate to be just Johnny. 

⟢

Your training had come to a standstill of sorts. 

Johnny said your progress had been incredible. You’d gone from barely being able to summon light at will to having control over how much you could wield, your blasts, the intensity of them. Even your abilities to take light from other sources and turn it into your own energy had gotten stronger. Everything had been going great.

That was until you tried to fly.

When you’d first started training, Jonny had mentioned that the first time he ever saw you you were flying high up in the atmosphere above Earth, gilded in light as if you were the living embodiment of a shooting star. At first, you’d wanted to roll your eyes and tell him that was preposterous, but the vague recollection of his face against a sea of endless stars shut you up.

The two of you had tried many times to figure out how to use your powers to get you to fly. Reed had hypothesized you had some kind of antigravity power that was laying dormant while Sue offered that it was most likely just an extension of your preexisting abilities. Ben thought that perhaps your body only let you fly when it was in a life threatening situation as a way to keep you safe and alive.

Johnny, of course, heard all of these as excuses and, after pushing them to the side as theories, decided to try with you anyway. But with each new session came more frustration as your light did nothing but glow brighter or cause an electrical outage instead of lifting your feet off the ground. Right when you were about to give up, say that it was a waste of time and that the whole flying thing was probably some one-off ability you wouldn’t be able to harness, Johnny had a better idea.

He had taken you to an observatory on top of the science wing of a university (one that didn’t exist in your world, you were sure of that). It was quiet and secluded, with no students or faculty in sight in the late evening air. He’d insisted that a change of environment would do you good, that it was time to trust yourself with your powers out in the open. 

“It’ll help,” he’d said as he shouldered on his jacket and walked to the training room door. “Right now, you’re hitting a wall because you feel to safe, too familiar. We have to get you somewhere we can safely test your abilities without putting anyone at risk. And I think I know just the place.”

The rooftop was large, made of a clean beige stone that was polished so well it practically reflected the sky above back at you from below. Johnny stood waiting for you in the middle of the rooftop just like he did when you would train with him back in the Baxter Building.

“Ready to try again?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to one side. 

A disgruntled huff fell past your lips. “I guess so. You didn’t really give me much of a choice.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as he walked towards you, extending one hand out for you to take. 

Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his and pretended not to notice the shock it sent up your arm when you did. He guided you slowly back to the middle of the space.

“Okay, now close your eyes,” he instructed.

You groaned. “Do I have to? I mean, I think I’m kind of past the whole “close your eyes to focus thing.” Plus, I don’t even see how it’ll-”

One annoyed look from Johnny shut you up mid sentence. 

With a muttered you’re so ridiculous, you did as he said. 

It was weird, how familiar this felt to you now. The feeling of his hand in yours, palm to palm, fingers wrapped around one another. You could smell the faint traces of his cologne in the air around you, and for some reason it brought you a strange sense of comfort. 

“Now, focus on the energy inside your body. Feel it in your veins, your muscles, your mind. Then, let it travel through you until you can’t tell where the energy stops and you begin.”

“Johnny, we’ve tried this already. It doesn’t work.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, and you wondered if you’d stumped him with the memory of the countless sessions he’d tried that approach only to fail every single time.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, how about this. I want you to think of a memory. A time that made you happy beyond compare. A time when you were so content with life that it felt like you were flying.”

Your mind wandered, thoughts scattering like runaway trains as you searched for a time that made you feel like that.

It had been so long since you’d been happy. Really and truly happy. When you thought back on your life, to your time on your Earth, all you could think about was how much you had failed. The friends you’d become so far behind, the jobs you had lost, the countless hours spent slaving away just so you could barely affor rent. You thought about what happened that day, all those years ago. The words that were said that you could never forget. The last time you ever saw-

You squeezed your eyes shut more, forcing the memories away from your mind. 

No, you thought. All of that is in the past, now. You can’t hold onto it forever. Now, think. Think of what has made you happy.

So you did. You thought of the way Annika had helped you when you were at your lowest. You thought of the way your friends still loved you even though you weren’t where you thought you’d be.

You thought about the Fantastic Four. Of Sue and Reed and Ben. How they’d let you into their home, into their lives without a second thought. How they were doing everything in their power to help you.

Then you thought about Johnny. The perfect, sarcastic, confident man before you. The one who had saved you when you first arrived, in more ways than one. The one who believed in you, trained you, befriended you. The one who, more than anyone, had helped you believe that you could become something more than what you were. 

Those moments, as complicated and messy as they could be, were what made you happy.

When you opened your eyes, you could see Johnny in front of you, with nothing else behind him apart from the night sky. He was cast in a warm orange light, flames lightly dancing around the back half of his body. You glanced down at yourself, eyes widening with shock when you took in your form.

A soft golden glow was emitting from your body like a chalk outline on sidewalk. It pulsated slowly like a heartbeat, spreading from the tips of your fingers all the way to your toes, now at least twenty feet of the ground. 

Johnny was staring at you, a stupid smile plastered on his face and his eyes full of wonder. You fought the fear that told you to cling to Johnny so you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m doing it,” you breathed, staring down at your body. “I’m really doing it.”

“You are,” Johnny chuckled. 

You let out a disbelieving laugh as you caught his gaze. Your hand were still clasped tightly around Johnny’s. You noticed that between being on the ground and flying in the air, the two of you had gotten closer. Chests nearly flush, faces so close together you could practically feel the warmth of his breath against your cheeks.

You could hear his voice, though whether it was in your mind or reality you didn’t know. You were too entranced by the feeling of his hands on yours and his gaze connected to yours.

Breathe. You’re safe. You’re in control.

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed that you were.

⟢

As the two of you meandered down the sidewalk, street lamps guiding your way home like a map lit up just for the two of you, you found yourself inexplicably pulled closer and closer to Johnny.

You chalked it up to the chill of the night as you shivered slightly, rubbing your arms gently to generate some heat. You wished you’d brought a jacket with you before you’d let Johnny drag you out here so late at night. 

Before you’d had that moment together. 

It played in your head, a picture it clear as day. His face inches from yours, a soft glow illuminating his features as he looked at you in awe. Like you were the greatest creation of the universe. Part of you was so caught in the moment, you almost wanted to let yourself believe your delusions about him were true. 

You could feel Johnny’s eyes on your face without even having to look at him. 

“Are you cold?” he asked. 

Shaking your head and pursing your lips, you replied. “No, no not really.” It was a clear lie and both of you knew it. 

Silently, Johnny stopped short, shrugged off his jacket, and placed it gently over your shoulders before moving in front of you. You tried to ignore the way the smell of his cologne and the warmth of the remnants of his body heat enveloped you as he fiddled with the front of the jacket until it sat on you comfortably. It was impossible not to stare at him when you were this close to each other. His eyes, his lips. The way his frow furrowed when he concentrated on something. 

“You know, before on the rooftop,” he whispered, like what he was saying was a secret made only for your ears. “We were like binary stars, floating around each other like that.” There was a faint smile on his face now as his eyes moved from the jacket up to meet yours. The deep blue of them was like a shock of cold water to your system, equal parts dangerous and mesmerizing. You pretended to ignore the way they flicked down to your lips for a brief millisecond, so quick that if you’d blinked you would’ve missed it.

“What are binary stars?” you asked, trying to keep yourself focused and prevent your mind from wandering off. 

Johnny smiled, turning back to  his spot next to you. The two of you started walking as he explained the space wonder with animated hands.

“Okay, so you know how our solar system only has one star, the Sun?”

You nodded, and shuddered under a cool breeze that ruffled your hair. Beside you, you could feel Johnny shift closer to you, and the heat radiating off his body raise a few degrees. 

“Well, there are some stars systems out there that have two stars. And they’re gravitationally bound to one another, so they orbit around each other. Sometimes, they’re so close together, in such a tight connection, that to our eyes they look like one star when they’re actually two. Like when we were flying before. There were two of us, but our powers made one source of light together. Most of the time to the naked eye binary stars just appear like one singular star, but sometimes with specific telescopes and tools you can make out both. Wait-” 

Johnny suddenly grabbed your hand, dragging you away from the sidewalk and into the street away from the lights. He turned the two of you around until he spotted something in the sky. He moved behind you, one hand placed gently on your side as his other hand pointed up to the sky. His hand fit in the crevice of your torso like it belonged there. 

“There,” he breathed. “See the Big Dipper?”

You swallowed thickly as you felt his breath fan across the side of your jaw. He’d bent down so his face was right next to yours over your shoulder, so close that you were nearly cheek to cheek. “Yes.”

“There’s a binary star system in the Big Dipper. Right…”He pointed to a spot in the sky, somewhere where you could faintly make out a large star, and a smaller, brighter dot right next to it. “... there. Two stars. Mizar and Alcor. Apparently they used to use them as an eye test back in ancient times.” His voice was laced with fascination dipped in excitement, like he was a little kid gushing about his favorite school subject or newest interest. It made something in your chest soften. 

“They’ve been orbiting each other for millions of years and we can just… see them.  Dancing together in a sea of infinite possibilities.”

“Like us,” you muttered. 

It was true. When you were with Johnny, he made it seem like anything and everything was possible. Whether it was controlling your powers, trying to lead a normal life until you could find a way back home, or looking for ways to make a difference. Suddenly you felt like the universe had opened up to you and given you thousands of possibilities to choose from, and you had control over what you did next. 

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the way Johnny was staring at you like you were the one who had placed those binary stars together in the sky. And you didn’t register the way his low voice echoed your own sentiment.

“Like us.”

⟢

The sound of children bustling behind the door made your palms slick with sweat. 

Reed hadn’t made any progress on getting you back home in the four months you’d been there, so you figured the best way to make use of your time was to finally become more involved in an official capacity. It was the first time you’d been trusted to go with Johnny on official Fantastic Four business as a working member of the team. 

Each of them went to charities weekly to show their support and offer their services in a way that wasn’t just them saving pedestrians or stopping existential threats to the world. Ben had described it as a way of giving back to a world that had accepted them with open arms and trusted them no matter what. 

Johnny, as the most popular of the four, often got the most public facing jobs. School fundraisers, television spots, and - in this case - trips to the children’s hospital. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t been in a hospital in years. Back in your world, your insurance didn’t cover most doctor’s visits, so emergency rooms and hospitals in general were out of the question. You’d avoided them, refusing to go anywhere near a medical center like that. Especially ever since-

Johnny was finishing up with one of the reception nurses when he jogged over to you, handing you a shiny badge with your name on it under the title VOLUNTEER.

“Okay, one for you - ” he said as you clipped it onto the front of your shirt. “- and one for me. You ready?”

He gestured to the door that led to the pediatric wing. The sounds of children laughing and playing almost drowned out the sounds of machines beeping and a code blue call that sounded over the PA system. 

Suddenly your mouth went dry, hands cold and clammy as you stared blankly at the door in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, brows knit in worry.

You swallowed thickly as flashes of memories danced across your vision. 

The smell of antiseptic.

The stark white walls of a hospital room.

The knowing look on a doctor’s face when she gave the diagnosis. 

The countless number of IVs and tests run.

The sound of machines and nurses talking in hushed, concerned tones.

The way it all dissolved one day, gone in the wind forever.

A vibration and dull voice began to break you from your trance. As your eyes came back into focus, you could see that Johnny was in front of you now, gently shaking your shoulders and repeating your name over and over again like an affirmation. 

This close to him you could see him. Really see him. The deep blue of his eyes, pools of concerned indigo swirling around and around. You could see the way his forehead wrinkled slightly when his brows pushed together in worry. The small smattering of barely-there freckles across the bridge of his nose. The slight lines around his mouth, ones that were a gift from countless smiles and boughts of laughter. You thought, quietly to yourself, that looking at him was like looking at a landscape. 

His voice snapped you back to reality.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern dripping from his tone. 

A slow nod from you caused him to back up, retracting his hands from your shoulders with a sigh. 

“God, you had me worried there. You looked like you’d seen a ghost or something.” 

You didn’t reply, just tried to steady your breathing as Johnny eyed you. 

“Look,” he began, moving closer so that only you could hear him. “You don’t have to come in. The kids won’t mind and I’m sure if you want to help you could ask one of the nurses at the front desk or a custodian to help instea-”

“No,” you cut him off, finally meeting his gaze. “I can do this.” When that wasn’t convincing enough for him, you added, “I want to do this.”

Johnny let out a low breath and shrugged. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. These kids… they’re ruthless.” He smiled, his tone mock-serious. 

You gave him a narrow-eyed smirk back as you lead the way and pushed through the doors. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

⟢

Johnny hadn’t been joking when he warned you about them. 

As soon as you’d entered the room, the kids had swarmed the two of you. Well, mostly Johnny. 

Half of them had Fantastic Four action figures, a few of them were dressed up in Human Torch costumes. They all attached themselves to Johnny, hugging him and asking him question after question until their nurses finally stepped in to calm them down. They’d split up the kids into groups, you going to play with a few while Johnny took on the rest. 

Right now, you were being questioned like a criminal on trial in what was supposed to be a reading circle. The book you had chosen had been long discarded onto the floor as the children bombarded you with question.

“Are you Johnny Storm’s girlfriend?”

“You’re dating the Human Torch?!”

“Are you a new member of the Fantastic Four?”

“Are you a superhero?”

“Do you have any powers?”

“Whoa, whoa,” you giggled. “One at a time, I can’t keep everything straight.” You sat forward in the blue plastic chair you’d found, giving the five kids around you all of your attention. “Now, who has a question? And don’t just shout it out, raise your hand please.”

One of the boys, a seven year old named Michael who had a particular fascination with dinosaurs, went first. 

“Are you a superhero?” he said curiously.

You shook your head, “Um, no. No, I’m not, but the Fantastic Four are helping me learn what it takes to be one.”

Michael pouted. “Will you ever be a superhero?”

You tapped your chin and pretended to ponder his question. “Hmm, maybe one day if the Fantastic Four need me to take someone’s place. I feel like I could be a pretty good Human Torch.”

The kids giggled. You glanced at where Johnny was sitting across the room playing with another group of kids and their action figures. He was all smiles and gentle play, a fondness in his eyes as he ruffled one of the boys’ hair. 

“Miss?” one of the girls, Misty, said. She was small and thin and had two long, blonde pigtails that sprouted out of each side of your head. 

“Yes?”

“Are you dating Mr. Johnny?” 

You choked on your spit as your heart jumped to your chest, and you prayed to whatever higher power was listening the Johnny couldn’t hear anything. Misty’s eyes were wide and expectant as you laughed off the question.

“No, Mr. Johnny and I are not… dating,” you answered. The statement left a bitter taste in your mouth. “We’re just friends… good friends.”

Misty gave a dejected nod before plopping back down into her spot, this time a little closer to you. 

Right as you were about to call on another child to ask you a question, she piped up.

“Do you have any powers?” 

All the other children sat up straight, eyes landing on you with an intensity. You shifted uncomfortably.

This, Johnny clearly heard, because he caught your gaze from across the room. It was like he could read your thoughts, feel your apprehension for letting anyone know about your abilities. He gave you a nod, as if to say, It’s okay. You can tell them. Nothing bad will happen.

You swallowed thickly before looking back at the kids. “Yes. Yes I do.”

The answer opened up a whole other can of questions.

“Really? What kind?”

“Can you fly like the Human Torch?”

“Do you have super strength? Oh! Or super speed?”

“Show us, show us, show us!”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” you chuckled, motioning for the kids to sit and settle down before you continued. 

“I can show you them, but you have to promise to be good for the rest of the day, okay?” The children nodded, all sitting quietly now with their hands folded in their laps and their eyes wide and ready. 

Taking a deep breath, you reached your hand up, fingers outstretched towards one of the lights imbedded into the ceiling. With a small flick of your wrist, the light dissipated and formed a ball, detaching itself and floating down into your hand like a glowing orb. The loss of light covered your portion of the room in shadow. The only light was now the energy glowing in your hand.

The kids in front of you ooh’d with excitement, smiles breaking out onto their faces as you brought the ball down. It glowed softly, illuminating your features and those of the kids around you. You tossed it between your hands as if you wer juggling a ball, first slowly, then faster and faster until they roared with laughter. Then you took your fingers and spread and twisted them until the orb broke apart into a million tiny pieces of light, spreading out like glittering stars glowing across the air in front of you. 

The children gasped in awe, eyes twinkling in the makeshift starlight that you had created in the room. 

You waved your hand, picking up all the pieces of light and shooting them back up into the ceiling light fixture. The shadows left and the light returned to normal.

The kids in front of you clapped and cheered, looking at each other in excitement and squealing about what you’d just done. You sat back in your chair in relief, a smile plastered on your face. You’d done it. You’d used your powers in public, around people, without fear. You’d controlled it, and you’d used it to bring joy to people who really needed it.

This, you wondered, must have been what it felt like for Johnny too.

One of the nurses tapped you on the shoulder, indicating that it was time for the kids to go back to their rooms for treatments and rest. You fought down the disappointment that your time their had ended.

“Well, it looks like I’m going to have to go now,” you said, standing from your seat. “Remember our promise and be good for your nurses, okay?” The kids nodded, all of them following you by standing up and going to their respective nurses to get ready to go back to their rooms.

As you went to leave, you felt a small hand grab your arm. You turned back, only to be met with a saddened Misty whose bright green eyes were clouding over with tears as her bottom lip quivered. Her voice was soft and unbearably small as she spoke.

“Do you… do you promise to come back and see us again?” she asked through a shaky voice. 

Your heart cracked deep inside your chest as you looked at her. You knelt down so that you could face her at her level and put a careful hand on her shoulder.

“Of course I will,” you answered in a low voice.“Whenever you want to see us - me, or Johnny, or anyone - let us know and we’ll be here. I promise.”

Misty nodded, sniffing lightly. Suddenly, she threw her arms around your neck for a brief hug before taking the hand of a nurse and following her out the room. Standing up, you cleared your throat and tried to keep your emotions in check as you waved goodbye to the room. 

Johnny was waiting on the other side when you closed the door. As the two of you began walking down the hallway, he bumped your shoulder playfully.

“Looks like I’m not the only hero they get to look up to around here anymore.”

⟢

It was nearly eight o’clock when you heard a soft knock on your door. 

You’d been getting ready for bed on account of having to wake up early to accompany Ben on a trip to a local school to volunteer. Helping out each of the Fantastic Four members with their seemingly endless jobs had become part of your daily life, and it made you feel better about being a guest in their home for so long. Every time you insisted on getting a job and saving so you could move out, Sue or Ben would put the idea right in the trash and insist that you were welcome to stay as long as you were in their universe.

It felt nice to be part of something.

You made your way over to the door, careful to be quiet so you didn’t wake Franklin sleeping down the hall. 

When you opened it, you were met with Johnny. Clad in pajama pants and a t-shirt, hair slightly messy and eyes wide. He smiled that signature smile at you as the two of you stood across from each other in silence.

“Hey,” he started. “I wanted to say, um… You were, uh, you were great with those kids today. They really loved you.”

You shook your head gently. “I was just following your lead, really. I just thought about what you would’ve done to make them happy in that situation. You’re the hero after all.”

Johnny looked down at the floor, but you swore in the dim light you could see the faintest painting of crimson spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Don’t discount yourself too much,” he replied. “Most of the kids just like me because I’m the Human Torch. They liked you because you were just you.”

Unable to say anything in response, you offered a subdued smile instead. A moment of silence passed between the two of you as Johnny awkwardly shifted his weight from side to side.

“Sorry,” you blurted out, regaining your senses. “Did you need me for something? Debrief about today or plans for the next charity event or interview? Does Sue need me to watch Franklin again.”

“No! No, just…” Johnny wrung out his hands. Odd, you’d never seen him act like this before. He was usually so collected and suave, but now… Now he looked like a teenager on the verge of throwing up in front of his crush.

“I don’t really know how to say this any other way so, here goes…” Johnny cleared his throat. 

“Would you like to go out with me?”

You stood there, stunned into silence. 

You? Go out with him? One on one? Like as friends, or something… more?

“Go out with you? Like… like, on a date?” you asked, brows furrowing as you looked at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, a date. Just you and me.” 

You stared at him.

“You can say no! Obviously,” Johnny blurted out as he looked at you expectantly. His hand closed into a fist before opening again, a pattern that repeated over and over again as he waited in front of you. 

Was he… 

Nervous?

No, of course he wasn’t. There was no way that Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, one of this world’s greatest heroes could be nervous talking to you of all people.

But you could see it in the way he shifted from side to side, glanced down at the floor to avoid your eyes. The way he’d now clasped his hands behind his back as he waited in anticipation. It was endearing. So much that it made your heart do something funny in your chest. 

You eyed him, contemplating his proposal. A date with the world’s most eligible bachelor. A famous hot-shot who, you were starting to find out, was a massive nerd deep down. You hadn’t had someone show interest in you in years, let alone someone this seemingly out of your league.

But who was to say what league you were in, really? You weren’t even in your own world or with anyone who knew you for what you were - the lost, broken girl who could barely keep it together. Here, you could be anyone, do anything. Reinvent yourself. Take risks. Be with whoever you wanted without consequence. And to you, he wasn’t really the mega-hunk hero Human Torch. He was just… Johnny.

“Sure,” you answered in a moment of pure, unbridled confidence. “I’d love to.”

Johnny’s head popped up, wonder and hope gleaming in his deep blue eyes. 

“Really?” he exclaimed in disbelief. 

You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your lips. 

“Uh, okay, great! Let’s say, tomorrow. Six o’clock. I’ll meet you… right here?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Johnny let out a content sigh of relief as he clapped his hands together. “Okay, awesome. Well… goodnight.”

With a shy nod, you closed the door gently, pressing your back to it. You were breathlessly unaware of the absurd silent victory dance Johnny was doing on the other side. You were too focused on the drum of your heart beating in your chest, and one thought replaying over and over in your head.

What were you getting yourself into?

© profangirllu. all rights reserved. copying, translating, or claiming my work as your own is strictly prohibited.

[profangirllu]

Hey girl! I hope everything is going alright for you! Out of all the Johnny Storm fics I’ve read on here, yours is the one I’m looking forward to the most :)

Ty!!! I’ve been super slow with the next chapter bc I haven’t had as much time to write the last few months :(

I have a lot planned out for the series and even more to write (the next chapter is currently over 12k words and it still isn’t finished!!!) but I hope the wait is worth it. After my finals I should be able to focus on it a bit more 💙💙

[profangirllu]

I’m still working on it I SWEAR

[profangirllu]

a fallen star ⟢ J.S.

Part 1 - "Stars Align" Series

☆ Description: After a rough few years, you finally land a new job at a research foundation. But when an experimental demonstration with a newly made machine goes wrong, you are sent hurtling across dimensions a dropped into a completely unknown world. With no money, no phone, and no way of getting home, you come to realize that your life may be changed upside down for good. It might not be so bad, except this dimension is vastly different than yours. Why does everyone dress like they stepped out of a retro movie set? Why are there flying cars? And, more importantly, who the hell are the Fantastic Four? -- *PART ONE OF A PLANNED SERIES* -- ☆ Pairing: Johnny Storm (FFFS) x Female!Reader ☆ Tags/warnings: mentions of mental health issues, feelings of inadequacy/not being good enough, Johnny wants to be in love, brief mentions of stalker-like behavior, reader is kind of depressed, mentions of abandonment, I think that's it! ☆ Word Count: 9.9k+ (it's a doozy :-D) ☆ Note: I'm so excited to start this bc I've wanted to write about Johnny for ages. This part is mostly exposition/set up for the next parts (right now I have parts 2&3 planned out in my head), so not much interaction btw Johnny and reader yet, but it's a good setup for what is to come! Proofread-ish, so I will be rereading it after posting and making small edits if I find anything. Hope you enjoy. Recommended song for this chapter below!!!

You have always had a plan.

Graduate high school. Go to college. Get good grades. Graduate with honors. Get your dream job. Become successful. Help people. Be happy.

Every single thing you did - each club and extracurricular, every class and internship - was but a piece in a meticulous puzzle you had created to keep your life on track so that you could become the best version of yourself. The most successful, the most recognized, the most happy. 

But lately…

Lately, life hadn’t been going how you’d planned at all. 

The post-graduation job market had been an abysmal hell-hole to put it in civilized terms. While all of your friends went off to high paying jobs and consistent nine-to-fives straight out of college, you were stuck working part time shifts at two restaurants, a bar, and a hair salon just to be able to afford to pay your portion of the rent for a dingy apartment with two other roomates with equal deadend jobs and stopped out dreams. You could see them posting about trips to Europe and buying houses and affording another luxury bag while you were counting your pennies trying to see if you had enough money for the subway home and dinner that night. 

You tried to keep your chin up, to keep chugging along as you applied to every museum, laboratory, company, and research facility that had any position you could remotely gaslight others into believing you were qualified for. But it was hard. Life was hard. And it had a way of reminding you it played favorites.

The wail of pop music over bass-heavy speakers clogged your ears, squeezing your head like the sounds were trying to make lemonade with your brain. Giving a small shake of your head, you brought yourself back to reality and tried to smile as your friends popped a fresh bottle of champagne with a giddy squeal. Their smiles etched lines into their faces and lighting up the table under the dim lighting of the all-too-expensive restaurant your friend Annika had chosen for her simultaneous birthday and promotion celebration dinner. She’d just been offered partner at a law firm, one of the youngest lawyers in the city to earn a position like that. 

You watched from your seat as Annika posed and your friends took turns snapping pictures. They all looked stunning, healthy, and well rested in tailored blazers and silk dresses that were probably worth more than your entire savings account. 

Annika, with her sleek dark hair and beautiful green eyes, had gotten a job at a firm right after law school and had been working there ever since. Your friend Meg was an x-ray tech at the big hospital off Madison Ave, making plenty of money to afford a solo apartment in the Upper East Side while only working four days a week. And Gigi had just become the curator of one of the biggest, most prestigious art museums in the city. All of them - your girls, as you fondly referred to them - were on the up and up. 

A small, proud smile creeped onto your lips as you took a sip of your water (it was the only drink you could afford off the menu tonight). 

It wasn’t like you weren’t proud of them, of course you were. They had all accomplished their dreams, goals they had planned since college and went after with a fierce determination. They’d all known exactly what they wanted out of life and had pushed themselves to achieving it by any means necessary.

But you? You hadn’t remotely known what you wanted, always having ideas and passions that were snuffed out by close minded family members and life-drained mentors that wanted someone else to join in on their misery. So you went to school and got a degree in communications with a minor in business because that was what your advisor told you would give you the most options in the job market. 

You wished you could tell her how wrong she’d been. How you still had no direction, no financial security, no passion for anything in life. And now everyone around you seemed to be moving forward, moving on, leaving you behind in the dust. Alone and forgotten. Again. 

As your friends took their seats again and everyone settled down, Annika sighed and began pouring out champagne. “Okay, okay,” she started, “enough about me! What’s going on with all of you lately? Gigi, girl, I am dying to know how things are going with Jason right now!”

Gigi gladly received a glass of golden bubbly liquid from Annika as she tried hiding a coy smile. Tucking a piece of her short, shaggy brown pixie cut behind her ear, she said, “Well, I was gonna wait to tell you guys until later because I didn’t want to ruin Annika’s big night, but…” 

Gigi pulled the sleeve that was bunched up around her left hand down to reveal a glittering silver band and a fat diamond that could easily pay your rent for three years perched on her ring finger.

“We’re getting married!” she exclaimed.

The table erupted into gasps of excitement, everyone clamoring to stand up and get a closer look at the rock on her finger. Your blood ran cold and jaw went slack with shock, like someone had slapped you and then strapped an ice pack to your face. 

Why you were surprised, you didn’t really know. From all the times you and Gigi had talked (which, admittedly, had gotten less and less frequent the past few months) she had known that Jason was the one for her and she was just waiting for him to pop the question. But still, there was another pang in your chest, as if the universe had decided to remind you of yet another milestone you had failed to reach and were behind on accomplishing. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you reached out and examined Gigi’s ring, complimenting its shine and how Jason must have spent ages trying to find it.

“It’s perfect,” you said, leaning back. “Seriously Gi, it’s so you.”

Gigi scrunched her nose playfully. “Isn’t it? Honestly I wasn’t even worried because he knows me so well that I knew whatever ring he chose I would love. I mean, he even knows that the only socks I buy are the Hanes brand on sale.” 

You feigned a laugh, clasping your hands together and squeezing to control your emotions. 

You turned to Meg, who was on her third Cosmopolitan. The colorful pink liquid perfectly matched the shade of the blazer she was wearing. “How about you Meg, what’s going on with you?”

Meg set down her glass and tossed one of her long red curls over her shoulder. “I mean, the hospital is pretty much the same as it always is. Tons of patients and not enough staff, but I just get to chill out in my little corner with my machines so I’m good. Jessica and I are still going strong, though we’re definitely not ready for something like marriage yet.” She laughed and Gigi playfully stuck out her tongue in retaliation. 

“But yeah,” she continued. “Other than that, nothing new. Oh! I do have a trip to Italy planned next month. Jess and I are going to Florence for our anniversary.”

“Aww,” Annika cooed. “Florence is beautiful this time of year. I remember when I went over this time last year with my family it was the perfect temperature the entire trip. And the architecture - ah! Jess is gonna love it.”

Meg nodded, her lips curling up at the thought of her girlfriend. “Yeah, she’s really excited.” Suddenly, she turned to you, placing a hand on your forearm and locking her eyes with yours. “Wait a minute… you haven’t told us anything about your life since we got here! You need to tell us anything and everything right now. Spill.”

In that moment, dread became a cat digging its claws into the ball of yarn that was your mind. 

All of your friends had stopped talking, each of them now looking at you with expectant eyes, hoping for you to add to their excitement. 

You hadn’t seen them in ages - four months to be exact. And since then each of them had somehow managed to level up their already great lives while you stayed in the same shameful rut that plagued you day in and day out. 

Should you tell them the truth? The unmasked, disgusting and depressing reality you lived that would certainly bring down the mood and sour the many celebrations they had shared with you? Or could you possibly make up some kind of elaborate story of how you had accomplished so much and were absolutely killing it in every aspect of your life now?

Calm down. Everything is fine. Remember how much you love them. They won’t judge you. 

As long as you kept your mind from unraveling and stayed in control of your thoughts and feelings, then you were fine.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

Clearing your throat, you let your eyes flit to each of them. All of them were now leaning on the table towards you, listening with open ears and hungry anticipation. 

You let out a nervous breath. 

“Well… I- uh… I’m pretty much just doing the same thing. Waitressing, working at the bar during nights and the salon most mornings.”

“Oh,” Meg replied, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. Annika shot her a look. 

“Have you at least managed to find your own place?” Gigi asked hopefully. 

You shook your head and ran a finger around the rim of your water glass. “Uh, no… nope. Everything is way too expensive right now, so I’m still, uh… still with the roomies.”

“Okay, then what about your love life?” Meg pressed. “You have to have someone you’re seeing, right? Any juicy one night stands or meet-cute moments to share?”

Your other hand gripped tightly at your pants, the black ones you had specifically purchased from the sale rack to try and look halfway decent tonight but had paled in comparison to your friends’ outfits. Just like everything else seemed to in your life.

Through grit teeth, you answered. “No, not seeing anyone either. Kind of hard to when you’re working non-stop every day to make ends meet.”

Meg sat back in her seat and let out a low whistle. “Damn, that sucks man. I would hate to be you.”

“Meg,” Annika warned.

“What?” she retaliated. “I just meant that it sucks she has to work so much!”

“Yeah, but it’s the way you said it,” Gigi replied, shaking her head. 

“But it’s the truth!” Meg exclaimed. The three of them went back and forth, arguing lightly as you sat silently. 

The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the music dulling over the deafening sound of your heartbeat thumping in your head. Suddenly that ball of yarn was starting to come loose. 

Your friends’ bickering cut through the noise, the three of them talking loudly over each other until your voice projected through the air.

“Enough!” you said, the sharp edge in your voice jolting them back away from each other and shutting them up. 

“Meg’s right,” you continued, ignoring the pin pricks of tears at the back of your eyes. “She’s right. She would hate to be me because my life sucks. I work four dead end jobs that don’t even cover my finances, live with two roommates that do nothing but work and drink and clean and then work again like mindless zombies that are waiting to infect me too.” 

Your voice was rising now like a tsunami tide overtaking the shore. 

“I haven’t been on a date since college - and frankly I don’t think I’d like to given the dating pool that’s left for perpetually lonely singles who are too busy to even take a night off to grab a drink with someone.  I have no hobbies, no passions, no goals, and no purpose in life, and I’m sitting here with three people who are supposed to be my closest friends, but who feel like complete strangers to me. I mean, I know I’m a loser - believe me, I’m reminded of it every single day - but being here and hearing all of the great things happening to you guys and then feeling like I’m being judged like a local pariah because of the way my life has panned out only makes it worse. My life is complete and utter shit and… and it’s no one’s fault but mine!”

It took you a second to realize that the whole restaurant had seemed to come to a standstill due to your outburst. Dozens of eyes stayed locked on you and your table as you slumped into your seat.

Your friends’ stared at you, jaws hanging open and eyes nearly popping out of their sockets with shock. Whether it was surprise at the level of your voice, the content of what you had said, or the fact that you were being completely honest with them, you weren’t sure. And now? Now you were so completely and utterly mortified that you didn’t want to stay and find out.

Reaching into your purse, you dug out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and tossed it on the table, sniffing in an attempt to keep yourself from breaking down in tears right then and there. You hoped it would be enough to cover the small appetizer you’d ordered that had yet to make it to the table, and the tap water the restaurant charged two dollars for. 

“I’m sorry, I… I have to go.”

And with that you excused yourself and hurried away from the table, out the door and into the city air, the welcoming caress of the wind gently brushing away the tears pouring down your face.

⟢

It was after midnight when you finally crawled into bed. Ten subway stops and several blocks of walking all while hungry and emotionally drained had taken a toll on you. You hadn’t even gotten to eat your vegetable spring rolls before your outburst, and your stomach grumbled in protest to being denied. 

Your crumpled sheets and tear stained pillow case welcome you like a warm hug, which was more affection and comfort than you’d received in years. Not since…

Staring down at your phone screen, your thumb hovered above the keyboard in your chatroom with Annika. You wanted to say something, anything that would allow you to apologize for ruining her night with your misfortune, but finding the words was hard. 

So you settled for simple, like how your friendship had always been. 

I’m so sorry for my outburst. I hope I didn’t ruin things for you tonight.

A few minutes passed before Annika’s chat bubble appeared to tell you she was typing. In a matter of seconds, your phone buzzed with a response.

don’t worry about it, babes. I would’ve crashed out too if Meg had said that to me. Your outburst was justified lol

You smiled. Annika had always been understanding to a fault. 

She was typing again. Your phone buzzed.

but seriously, are you doing okay? I know we haven’t talked much bc of work and life and stuff but you seemed really upset about everything

you know I’m always here to talk if you need

You bit your lip as you slowly typed out a response, hesitant to tell her any more than what you had revealed earlier. 

I’m struggling, I’m ngl. 

kind of feels like the universe has some kind of vendetta against me, ‘cause no matter how many jobs I apply to, I continue to get rejected. I must’ve applied to sixty openings this month alone and just… nothing 

There was a moment of silence after you sent the text. One where you didn’t hear your roommates’ snoring or the blaring sound of the train down the street from your window. Just the quiet hum of the earth like it was trying to lull you into a calm. 

Another buzz sounded from your phone.

I’m not really supposed to do this, but one of our clients mentioned that their company was looking for another secretary. 

I know it’s kind of just like a glorified receptionist or assistant job, but it’s good pay. Like “fuck you and your family” type of pay. I emailed them your resume when I got home, hope you don’t mind :-\ 

Underneath her text, she’d sent you a link to a website. Clicking on it, the link opened up to an article about a science and technology institute that you’d never heard of, but obviously had some serious influence given the photos of clientele on their page. 

You typed the institute’s name into the search bar, going to their website and finding their “jobs” tab easily. Without hesitating, you clicked apply, filled out the form, attached your resume, and hit submit. 

Your thumbs moved quickly over the screen as you responded to Annika two simple words.

thank you <3

Maybe it wouldn’t pan out, maybe you would get rejected again. But at least it was a step in the right direction. And someone had actually listened to you. 

You threw your phone to the side and turned off your light, burrowing under the covers and drifting off to the strong, steady sound of your heart beating, alone.

⟢

Johnny knew he shouldn’t complain, but sometimes being a member of the Fantastic Four and one of the most well-known people on Earth came with drawbacks.

Of course it had its perks, oftentimes more than he really needed, in fact. Like when his coffee order would be “on the house” on account of saving the world or he would get out of a speeding ticket while driving the Fantasticar because the officer assumed he was responding to a threat and not that he was trying to go supersonic because he had forgotten to go and pick Sue up from a meeting somewhere downtown. 

But it also came with endless meetings and appearances. The constant photoshoots and interviews piled up between training sessions and dealing with crime and danger across the world (and seeing as he was the only one who could fly of the Fantastic Four, he was always the first to respond) left him exhausted most days, but one thankful praise from a bystander or excited squeal from a child who caught him on the street was enough to make him set his feelings aside for his work.

His personal life, however? Completely different story.

In the rare pockets of free time he found throughout his weeks, he tried to live a normal every day life. Running errands, taking Franklin to daycare or playdates when Sue and Reed were too swamped to leave the Baxter Building, making time for his hobbies and attempting to go to the new jazz club that had opened up recently. But he was always met with someone who wanted an autograph or a picture or for him to light their cigarette with his finger. And while he didn’t mind - he never minded when it came to his fans - it did usually end up blowing his cover for the rest of the day until he was forced to return home to the confines of his room.

Dating was an entirely different beast, and pretty much a nonexistent part of his life. Before the accident, before the radiation storm and the powers and creation of the Fantastic Four, he was just Johnny Storm. A scientist, a nerd obsessed with space and always ready to follow his sister and friends into a new adventure.

When he suddenly found himself able to turn himself into a living flamethrower, that all changed. Almost overnight, he had become a heartthrob, the guy teenage girls had posters of in their bedrooms and convinced themselves he would fall in love with them at first sight. He was wanted by everyone, like an intriguing piece of priceless artwork at an auction for millionaires. Always coveted and never for the right reasons.

He’d tried dating. Multiple times, yet every single one ended in disaster.

There was the interviewer from the New Yorker that had batted her eyelashes and feigned interest, only to be more concerned in getting information on his personal life for her articles than getting to know him. Then there was that girl from the bakery on 32nd who was only seeing him so that she would get his endorsement of her shop having the best black and white cookies in New York (to which Johnny very honestly replied that it was Maisie’s Delicatessen that boasted the best black and white cookies in the city). And then there was the girl he had met in the park one early morning while out for a stroll. Someone who had been sweet and kind and seemingly perfect until she invited him to her apartment and he was bombarded with a shrine decorated with millions of pictures of his face from every possible angle. And that wasn’t even mentioning the quick unrequited feelings he thought he had for the silver space woman that had nearly helped destroy Earth last year. 

So yes, being a superhero was great most of the time, but dating while being one was not for the faint of heart. Sometimes the cons of having your face plastered on billboards and magazines and everyone wanting to know an inside piece of your life far outweighed the benefits.

Today was a perfect reminder of that.

Johnny huffed as he followed Reed and Sue off the stage, pulling at the collar of his blue and white suit in frustration. He swore being on soundstages and under the TV show lights made the suits ten times more uncomfortable than they really were.

Ben trailed behind him as he handed off his mic and waved goodbye to a few of the sound people backstage. Another day, another interview done for the good people of New York.

“Johnny, wait up!” Ben called, his clunky feet shaking the floor as he jogged up from behind. 

Johnny slowed, not particularly wanting to given the playful lilt of Ben’s voice but obliging anyway. He was far too tired to argue. Practically all morning, he’d been by 72nd street helping the fire department with various fires that had started due to faulty wiring in the buildings. The old dry wood and ventilation systems were so outdated that a single spark from inside the walls had caused an entire building to go up in flames.

Then he’d zipped over to 93rd where he sat in back to back meetings with the mayor of New York and Mole Man to discuss how the people of Subterranea could get equal access to education below ground (and for them to stop popping up in the middle of the streets through the sewer drains). Johnny had taken insult after insult from the latter the entire time. 

Johnny’s body rocked as Ben gave him a pat on the back. He pointed his rock-ridden thumb behind the two of them towards the sound stage.

“You know,” Ben began with a sly smile. “That PA assistant was really checking you out during the show.” He nudged Johnny’s shoulder with his own. “You should go ask her out, man.”

Johnny side eyed him, “She was literally wearing a Human Torch lanyard, so… no.”

Ben rolled his eyes and groaned. “You are never going to find someone if you don’t let this whole “she can’t know who I am or anything about me or be obsessed with me because she might be a crazy stalker” thing go.”

Johnny reeled around to his (literally) hard faced friend. Pinching his brow with a gloved hand, he said, “Do you not remember how that Lynn girl literally had an entire shrine dedicated to me in her house? She tried to cut off a piece of my hair to put in her locket!”

“Yeah, but that was one time,” Ben replied, throwing an arm around Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny shot him a look and Ben immediately retracted his arm put his hands up in defense.

“Listen, all I’m saying is it’s not gonna be easy to find someone who doesn’t know who you are. And them knowing you may not be a bad thing! I mean, Rachel knew who I was when we met, but she didn’t treat me any differently than anyone else. It’s not like your perfect girl is gonna fall from the sky or something.”

Johnny threw another glare Ben’s way as he strode past him and out the back door. Sue and Reed were by the Fantasticar, talking in low tones to while they stared into each other’s eyes. Reed leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Sue’s lips, the two of them smiling as they pulled apart in a blissful state of love.

On any other day, Johnny probably would’ve made some sarcastic comment, pretended to shield his eyes and tell them he was scarred for life. But today, it just made the dull ache for companionship in his chest grow stronger. Most days he could fill it up by seeing kids dressed up as the Human Torch on the playground or hearing the sounds of his Flaming Hearts Fanclub screaming his name as he flew over the streets in a fiery blaze. And yet somehow with every day that passed it was getting harder and harder to rely on his tried and true methods.

Reed moved to open the passenger side of the Fantasticar for Sue, offering his hand to help her climb in. Ever the gentleman.

As she buckled her seatbelt, Sue called back to Johnny and Ben over her shoulder.

“Reed and I have to go pick up Franklin from the daycare center. Will you two be alright to get home?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, I was planning to go see Rachel anyways and help her out with an event she’s planning. Maybe go for a walk afterwards, get some dinner together. I probably won’t be back until after dark.”

Sue smiled. She’d been overjoyed to see that Ben had finally found someone. Coming back to Earth after the accident had been the hardest on him in particular.

Her blue eyes moved to Johnny, who was still standing there on the sidewalk lost in thought.

“Johnny, you okay to get home?”

Johnny’s gaze flicked to her sister, a sense of knowing on her face like she could read his mind and see that he was struggling with something.  Johnny still didn’t understand how she was able to do that.

He threw his shoulders back, plastering on a fake, charming smile and giving her a thumbs up. 

Sue turned around in her seat, tapping Reed’s hand gently before the two of them shot off in the car down Main Street. 

Ben was already making his way down the street to make his way towards Rachel’s school, and Johnny was left on the sidewalk, alone with only himself and his thoughts to keep him company. 

But he couldn’t keep thinking about things that seemed too far out of reach for him. There was no point to it. So, he ignited himself into flames and did the one thing he was certain he could do.

Fly. 

⟢

Four weeks and five interviews later and you’d officially landed the job as the new secretary at the United Change Foundation, a subsidiary of what used to be Stark Industries created after the Blip that focused on developing new technology that would help serve the greater good of the world. 

Around two weeks had passed since your first day, and you were finally settling into the rhythm of things. Even though it wasn’t much more than a glorified assistant job to your boss Helen, the higher pay, steady hours, and consistent sleep schedule you were getting in return more than made up for it. 

You’d just finished all of the morning’s paperwork - mostly filing licenses, scholarship grants, research notices - when you stood up to take your thirty minute lunch break. Your stomach growled with a ravenous hunger, and you thought about the sandwich you had packed yourself last night waiting for you in your bag. Right as you were about to put up your “gone fishing” sign on your desk to indicate your break time, your boss walked up to your desk. 

Helen was an older woman, tall and thin and ever imposing with her sharp lines and cat-like stare. She ran the majority of the Foundation and would’ve been considered CEO if Pepper Potts didn’t already have that spot claimed. 

She plopped a thick binder and pen down on the top of your desk, sucking at her teeth and glancing at you with narrowed eyes. Helen pointed at you, then the binder, then turned. 

Over her shoulder, she offered no other explanation to her unexpected appearance besides a curt and cold:

“Follow me.”

⟢

You followed the clicking sound of Helen’s heels down the hallway into an area that read RESTRICTED: APPROVED PERSONNEL ONLY  in large red letters. 

“Normally I would ask Adelaide or Nathan to do this,” Helen called, her head held high like a swan looking over the water. “But, since both of them are out this week and there’s quite literally no one else with the free time to do it, I am offering you the opportunity to sit in on a consultation.”

The two of you came to a set of sliding metal doors, industrial grade and obviously built for the highest possible security. She swiped her badge on the raised key pad next to them, then put her eye up to a small camera imbedded into the wall that scanned her retina. After it recognized her in the system, it lit up with a soft green glow and the door slid open. Helen stepped through without hesitation, waving at you behind her back to follow her. You scrambled through the door as it began to close, barely getting both your feet across the threshold before it snapped shut behind you. 

Well, you thought, guess my lunch break is going to have to wait.

As you jogged to catch up, Helen began rattling off things to you about the meeting. 

“It’s just an investor meeting, so nothing too big. We have a team of scientists showing their prototype to some of the richest people in the world. If we get the right backing, they can continue their work and we can continue to make a difference.”

The two of you walked down a hallway, took a sharp left around a corner, and continued walking as you passed in front of a panel of glass windows looking into what seemed to be an experimental engineering lab 

It was sterile and clean looking, bright white fluorescents beating down like the Sun through a magnifying glass. Black-topped tables had been pushed to the edges of the room, notebooks and paper sheets and metal pieces and wires littering the tops like confetti on a birthday cake. In the center of the room, you could see a large cylindrical device hooked up to several tubes and power sources. It stood taller than most of the engineers working on it, and seemed like it would be big enough to fit a human inside. Your mind itched with curiosity. It got the better of you before you could stop yourself.

“What is that?” you asked, eyes studying the contraption intently. You’d never been super into sciences or maths, but something about them fascinated you from time to time. 

Helen stopped short and turned abruptly on her heel to face you, her sleek black bob slicing through the air like a knife with perfect aim around her jawline. 

“Your job,” she pointed at you, “is to stay quiet, take notes, and make sure the investors have everything they need. That means, no questions, no remarks. Not even a sniffle or cough, do you understand?” 

Her steel gray eyes narrowed at you as she lowered her tone. “Once you step through those doors, you are invisible, got it? Anything you hear in this meeting cannot be talked about anywhere outside of these four walls. Else there will be… consequences.” 

She gave you an icy once over, like she was suddenly Miranda Priestly evaluating your poor fashion choices instead of asking you not to reveal top-secret confidential information to the public. 

No pressure.

“Have I made myself clear?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Being trusted to be involved in something this high profile so early on was a massive step for you. Maybe if you did well, this moment could accelerate your career and catapult you into the future you had originally planned for yourself. 

Helen didn’t wait for you to answer - not like you had a choice in what she told you to do around here. She punched a code into the keypad on the door before pushing it open, and the only thing you could do was follow her into the fire. 

⟢

You tried to keep your calm as you jotted down notes in the binder that Helen had given you earlier. Three of the world’s wealthiest people were standing in the same room as you, a group of engineers in a nearby observation room, listening to two geniuses talk about the device they had made.

They called it the Inter-Dimensional Energy Accelerator. It was based off of schematics made by Tony Stark and the Avengers to create the time machine that allowed them to save the world again after the Blip.

Well, not the whole world. 

The engineers said it had taken them years to develop, especially after losing so many brilliant minds and resources post-Blip and post-recovery. They theorized that it would help not only with interdimensional travel to assess any possible threats and look for new valued resources (particularly strong, versatile metals like vibranium or adamantium), but it could allow for advanced space travel and teleportation within the known world as well.

Frankly, it all sounded like an optimistic fantasy to you. How could a machine possibly transport you to another plane of existence? And yet, part of you wanted it to be true, wanted it to work so that maybe one day you could transport yourself to a completely different world and start over from scratch. As crazy as it sounded, maybe that was your best option.

You’d been jammed up against a cluttered corner next to stacks of boxes full of unused supplies, trying to keep your balance as you tried perching on one of them to rest your feet. You still hadn’t gotten used to wearing heels to work every day. Beside your shoulder, you could see the rest of the engineers and technicians on the other side of a protective observation glass, going through papers and watching hopefully.

Looking up from your binder, you watched carefully as the engineers showed the investors the outside hull of the machine.

“Our theory,” said one of the engineers, a young woman named Martha with long dreadlocks pulled up high above her head, “is that our equations mixed with Stark’s schematics would allow us to complete a successful transfer of energy across dimensions without involving any temporal anomalies. Basically dimensional travel without traveling backwards or forwards in time.”

She moved in front of a prototype, a smaller version of the machine behind her and pointed to a screen. 

“We’ve already completed trial runs, with live subjects. Mostly rats, mice, a few bunnies as well. We have been able to track each object to a different plane beyond our own dimension and back. And their vitals, genetic makeup, brain patterns - everything that we know about them has stayed the same.” Martha’s dark eyes were blazing bright in scientific wonder. “We could start human trials at any point.”

The woman next to Helen, the one with stark gray hair and dark eyes, spoked up. 

“And how long do you expect those will take, exactly?” She asked. The files in the binder had named her as Catherine Lannister, the heiress of one of the largest oil companies in the world. “This is something we should be putting to use immediately.”

Martha took her glasses off and cleaned them on the hem of her jacket. “Well, that depends,” she began. “First we would need to find volunteers, put them through training to make sure their bodies could withstand any possible malfunctions. Then we would have to do at least three rounds, making sure they come back without any abnormalities. Then we would have to finalize-”

“How about a demonstration?” said the another investor. You looked down, finding his picture in the corner of your paper above the name Jay Bakshi - Private Equity Investor. 

“Of course,” the engineer next to Martha said. “The prototypes are all geared up and ready to-”

“No, no,” Jay responded. He pointed a thin finger at the I.D.E.A. machine. “That one. I want to know that the thing I’m investing in actually works before I throw my money at a bunch of post-grads tinkering around in a basement lab. Besides, you said you could start human trials at any moment, right?”

Martha let out a nervous laugh, wringing her hands. “With all due respect, the Accelerator has not gone through the proper checklist yet. Starting it up could potentially put all of our safety at risk. Not to mention, we still need to add the stabilizers on and-”

Helen shot her a glare, mouthing something that looked like “shut up and do it” from your perspective. 

Martha smiled, muttering a “right, okay,” before moving around to a switchboard on the side of the room. Its wires ran out from the back of the board and across the vinyl floor before disappearing into the metal machine. She let out a breath before pressing a few buttons and flipping a switch.

The investors craned their heads to watch, the lights dimming briefly before the I.D.E.A. machine hummed to life. You could barely see the inside of the cylinder through the small pane of glass imbedded into the door, but you could make out a faint glow building up inside of it. 

Holy shit. Maybe it isn’t such a fantasy after all.

Helen and the investors looked on in interest before a sharp, metallic screech pierced through the air followed by a blaring pattern.

The alarm was deafening in your ears, and you dropped your binder and clasped your hands over your head in an attempt to quell the sound. The once stark fluorescents above your head had switched off, and dark red ones blazed over you now instead like you had stepped into the entrance of an underground nightclub. A robotic voice sounded over the speaker system.

“Warning.”

Something chilled in your veins, blood turning icy. 

“What is all this?” one of the investors, a man you recognized as Todd Stein, a billionaire tech mogul from California, said. “What the hell is going on? I thought you said it was ready for human testing!”

Helen stepped in front of them, clasping her hands and speaking in a reassuring tone. “I’m sure this is just a minor hiccup with the machine, nothing to worry about. Martha and her team will get it up and running in no time, right Martha?”

The engineer didn’t say anything, just frantically began pressing things on the switchboard as her assistant moved around the hull of the contraption, trying anything to see if it would help stop the warning signals going off.

The I.D.E.A. machine rumbled, its exterior beginning to smoke slightly. Martha said something into the walkie-talkie on her wrist. You turned to see the engineers in the observation room rushing about, grabbing anything they could before rushing out the door and into the hallway. One of them locked eyes with you as he grabbed a notebook, his face numbed with fear. He said something into his own walkie talkie.

Your head whipped around to Helen, now holding her own walkie talkie up to her ear as she faced everyone.

“Everyone out. Now.”

Helen moved to press her thumb to the door lock, the key pad humming as the hydraulics opened up with a whoosh. 

Martha and the other engineers scrambled to grab schematics, supplies, and the prototypes in a haste. Every time you tried to move from your corner, someone moved in front of you to grab something. You could see Helen guiding the investors out, yelling to Martha and the rest, “Hurry! The door will lock any second!”

They all rushed out like a pack of ants trying to escape a rainstorm, and you moved quickly to follow. It was difficult to see in the darkened room, and the door was all the way on the other side, far from where you had been relegated during the meeting. You tried carefully stepping across the room, careful not to catch yourself on anything. The last assistant engineer had just made it through the door and was beginning to shut it. You rushed forward, desperate to get out while you still could, calling out to them to wait. But it was like no one heard you. Like you were completely invisible and forgotten to them even though you had been in the room the whole time. 

If you could just get a little closer, enough to get your hand on the door to push it back open-

Your foot caught on a wire that hadn’t been taped down to the floor, your already unsteady legs twisting around until you collapsed on the ground. The door in front of you snapped shut with a deafening click. 

Springing up from your spot, you slammed yourself against the glass windows, banging your fists furiously against them until you were sure they were shaking.

“Hey!” you screamed loud enough for them to hear. “I’m stuck! Get me out of here, please!”

Beyond the glass, you could make out Helen’s piercing gaze trained on you, a look of absolute horror on her face as she stood there, hand twitching at her side like it was debating whether or not it should detach from her body and unlock the door for you. The investors and engineers ran down the hallway in a panicked sprint, shouting and clambering around one another to get to safety. Helen squeezed her eyes shut as she turned and ran after them, not even bothering to look back in your direction. 

As their forms disappeared around the corner, your banging became more frantic, a mirror of your heartbeat starting to stutter erratically in your chest. 

“No. No, no, no, no! You can’t leave me here!” you cried out. “Please… please, come back!”

But it was too late, they had already long disappeared from this floor. And they weren’t coming back. Nobody ever came back.

Dread rushed through your veins as your brain tried to make sense of everything.

No. No, this can’t be happening. This…. This wasn’t the plan. This isn’t how my life is supposed to end.

The I.D.E.A. machine let out a deafening groan, bright light building up and glowing brighter with each passing second. A robotic voice above you continuously said “warning” without any elaboration. 

The whole room shook, vibrations passing through your hands still pressed on the glass.

There was nowhere to go, no one coming to help you, save you. You were all alone. 

This hadn’t been your plan. None of this had ever been your plan. 

Maybe it was the universe’s instead. 

The metallic screeching behind you got louder and louder as blood rushed in your ears. This was it for you, a horrific ending that could have easily been avoided if you’d just been a little faster, taken action a little sooner. 

With shaking hands and a trembling body, you wrapped your arms around yourself, squeezing in preparation as warmth began flooding the room. You closed your eyes as a flash of light exploded from the chamber behind you, engulfing everything in a blinding glow of heat and energy, surrounding you like a blazing embrace meant to take you away into the unknown forever. 

And then, as quickly as it happened, it was over.

And there was nothing.  

⟢

Johnny knew he shouldn’t have said anything about being bored lately, because Reed had immediately come up with a list of chores and errands to do to get him out of the Baxter Building - and more importantly out of his lab and away from bothering him. 

He had dropped off the dry cleaning, taken the Fantasticar to the car wash, and delivered some donations to a local charity on behalf of the Fantastic Four (of course stopping to take some pictures with all of his excited fans on the way). 

Now, he was begrudgingly bringing himself across town to go to Maisie’s Delicatessen to pick up an order of cookies Ben had placed. Johnny swore that this was the fourth order he’d made this week. 

Johnny rounded the street corner to Maisie’s, the cool morning air brushing through his hair as he carried on with a quick stride. Yancy Street was packed with people this morning. Saturdays naturally meant all of the kids were out of school and running around with their friends, families were having breakfast together in the diners, and others were out for morning strolls with their coffee cups and puppies. 

Johnny pushed through the doors to Maisie’s, welcoming in the familiar scent of baked goods and coffee grounds that flooded the air. He could sense the warmth from the ovens blazing in the back kitchen, and his shoes made small tapping sounds on the black and white checkered floor as he walked.

He sauntered over to the “Pick Up” station, ringing the bell and leaning on the linoleum counter as he waited. The line at the register was nearly out the door with people trying to pay for croissants and lattes and cheese-filled pastries.

Johnny pushed a small puff of air out the front of his lips. This was gonna take a while.

A gentle tap on his shoulder disturbed his peaceful rest against the dark blue counter. Johnny glanced behind him to see a small group of girls, each with their hair held back by matching pale blue headbands, a small pin of a heart covered in flames pinned to the fronts of their pinafore dresses and cardigan collars.

The three of them exchanged nervous glances.

“Are you… are you Johnny Storm?” the girl in front asked expectantly. She had mousey brown hair and wore a dark green dress. Her gray eyes sparkled with excitement. 

Johnny nodded, turning his body to face them and putting his hands in his pockets, switching into his suave cool-guy personality he had perfected as the Human Torch. “Yes, yes I am.”

The girl squealed, jumping up and down as she turned to her wide-eyed friends. “See, I told you guys it was him!”

Another one of the girls piped up, the one wearing a brown plaid sweater and thick round tortoise shell glasses. “We’re you’re biggest fans. Top members of the Flaming Hearts Fanclub! We even have the certificates to prove it.”

Johnny smiled, straightening up and putting on the “hero voice” he saved for civilians and kids. “Well, thank you all so much for your continued support. You guys make my flames burn extra bright.”

A smile broke out on the girls’ faces, and Johnny bit back a cringe trying to work its way up into his shoulders. Ben hated when he came up with sappy one-liners, but it made the fans happy.

The girls giggled before the leader reached into her bag and pulled out a rolled up magazine and a marker. 

“Would you mind signing this?” she asked. “It’s the latest issue of Teen Vogue with you on the cover and - oh my God it would make me so happy if you did!”

“Of course,” he replied, shooting her a grin. “Anything for a member of the Flaming Hearts Fanclub.”

He extended his arm to take the thick packet of fashion photos and advertisements and articles that surely a contained few lies about the kinds of girls he was interested in or what his perfect date would be. Before his fingers could brush the shiny pages, a beep sounded from his watch. 

Johnny’s brows furrowed as he retracted his arm, bringing the watch up to his face so he could see what was written on the small black screen. 

Alert! - Show

He clicked on the “Show” button, allowing the screen to buffer before reading the words of the alert.

Extraterrestrial Atmosphere Breach. Origin: Unknown.

 A small satellite image passed onto the screen of a heat signature up in the stratosphere above the city, unmoving and floating like a star suspended.

What the hell was that?

“Uh, sorry ladies, but… duty calls!” he said. Before the girls’ frowns could make him feel guilty, he added, “Why don’t you guys leave your names with Maisie and I’ll make sure that I get those signatures to you all. Sound good?” 

He bolted from the store, ignoring the disappointed whines of the girls behind him and Jen the counter girl calling after him about his cookies. 

Johnny shouldered the door open, eyes cast upward towards the sky as he searched for the location of the breach. Once his feet hit the pavement, he turned on his flames and burst up off the ground, catapulting through the air like a rocket ship. As he rose through the sky, he could make out a faint pulsing light miles and miles away, waiting far above him. 

Was it a ship? Some kind of spacecraft stuck in the gravitational pull of the Earth? The alert said extraterrestrial, but could it be from their solar system? Another one nearby? And was it… glowing?

Johnny pushed higher and higher into the sky, the wind rushing past him with deafening speed. The air only served to make his flames stronger, and he climbed even further. 

He slowed down as he approached the stratosphere, careful not to seem too aggressive or hostile with the entity. Though given the last time he had dealt with an unknown flying space entity he had been too friendly and almost ended up costing his planet its existence, and he debated just blasting it from the sky then and there. 

Johnny narrowed his eyes, fighting the urge to shield them from the bright golden glow that was emitting from the thing in front of him. His flames propelled him slowly in a circle around the entity as he tried his best to examine it under the blinding light it was emitting. He squinted, focusing in and trying to make out any kind of shape he could. And then he realized.

No… it wasn’t a thing. Not an asteroid or rogue spaceship.

It was a person. 

He could see it now, clear as day against the dark backdrop of stars and infinite nothingness above the atmosphere. This was a person, glowing radiantly as if made from pure starlight. If Johnny wasn’t on the job right now, and if this person wasn’t a possible threat come to herald the end of the world like the last floating figure had, he would’ve stayed, there simply floating around them as he stared in awe. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and called to the figure across the space between them.

“Uh, hi. Can we help you? Or… are you just planning to stay here and hover for the rest of the day?”

The figure said nothing, just stayed still as the light emitting from them continued pulsating steadily. Johnny could vaguely make out a face, a pair of eyes that seemed to be glossed over and staring out into the distance, towards something over the crest of the Earth and beyond them in Space. He moved closer, careful not to go too close to the figure or much higher, lest he wanted to run the risk of losing the oxygen that fueled his flames and dropping back down to Earth.

“Um, hello? Hello, can you… can you hear me?” he called, waving his hand out in front of the figure’s face to get their attention. The flames of his hand danced across the air, leaning towards the figure like they were reaching out to them. “Do you… understand English?”

The figure’s face turned and stared at him for a long while, light boring into Johnny in a way he had never experienced before. It was tempting to shield his eyes and look away. He was always used to being the sole thing that burned too brightly.

Slowly, the glow around the figure dissipated, fading out until all that remained was a faint golden outline around their body. Johnny’s eyes watched as every particle of light left and moved to the figure’s edges, the lines around them so thin that only a barely there glimmer was left. His gaze drifted back up to the figure’s face, and finally he locked eyes with them.

With you.

You, who somehow still seemed to possess a glow despite the light having left your skin. 

You with your hair wild around your head, the weak gravity of the atmosphere pulling it up and away from your face. 

You with your terrified expression, mouth hanging open and forehead wrinkled in disbelief as confusion and terror etched into your features. 

You with eyes that were glossy and afraid, staring at his intensely with a silent plea. 

You held his gaze, and Johnny felt as though he could recognize something in your eyes. Something that was hidden deep down, but somehow familiar to him.

A whisper left your mouth, so quiet that Johnny could’ve mistaken it for wind. 

“Help me.”

Suddenly, your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going limp as your muscles failed. The faint glow around your body vanished completely as gravity took hold of your body, pulling it down from the sky like a fishing line would with a fresh catch. In a matter of milliseconds, you had gone from floating in front of him to plummeting down to the ground below.

Johnny dove, turning on his head and flying straight after you. Your body hurtled to the Earth at a record speed, and Johnny used all of his strength to push his flames hotter, burn brighter, all in the attempt to get to you through the sea of blue sky.

He maneuvered around a cloud, avoiding any water vapor he could so that nothing would slow him down. 

Finally, he found you and extinguished the flames on his arms, grabbing you by your torso and pulling you flush against him, one hand holding your head to protect your neck from the speed. The two of you fell, tumbling past clouds and satellites and back down to New York, towards the water just outside the city. Johnny sped the two of you across the Hudson River and back over the streets of Manhattan, moving carefully around buildings and street corners to search for a place with limited pedestrians to stop. Glancing down, he found an opening in Times Square, and once you two were low enough Johnny slowed down and landed, letting his flames die out as he placed you down gently on the ground. 

Johnny could hear the gasps of a few people coming out of shops and restaurants, around him, the sounds of cars screeching to a halt to get a look at what the most popular member of the Fantastic Four had done now. But he didn’t care. His priority right now was you.

He lifted your chest up to his ear, placing his head above the right side and listening intently. You were unconscious, but your heart was beating strong. 

Johnny placed you back gently before pressing a button on the side of his watch and bringing it up to his lips. 

“Sue, Reed, Ben. We have a situation. Meet me in Times Square. Now.” 

He dropped his hand down and examined you, finally able to take everything in now that you weren’t practically exploding with light or falling to your death. 

You didn’t have any visible injuries, thankfully, and whatever weird glow that had enveloped you before was now completely gone. Johnny’s nose scrunched as he looked at your clothing. It was a style he had never seen before, the lines and cuts of the fabric you were wearing seeming completely foreign and out of place to him. 

Who were you? And where had you come from?

A crowd was beginning to form around him, people whispering and others taking photographs on cameras they had brought to capture memories with their friends.  Johnny sighed as he stood up to address them.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “Nothing to worry about here. Please, just go about your-”

You gasped and opened your eyes, hand reaching out and grasping around you as you gulped down air.  Your hand landed on Johnny’s forearm, clasping it tightly as he dropped down to one knee to face you. Your eyes were frantic and searching, looking around like you had just been dropped into a completely unknown world. 

Your words came out in sputters, “What… where…. where…?”

Beneath his jacket, Johnny could feel your hand shaking non stop. He moved closer from his spot next to you, placing his hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

“It’s alright,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

You looked at him, your locked eyes sending a bolt of electricity down Johnny’s spine as he held your gaze. Your eyes narrowed at him. “Who… who are you?”

Johnny blinked. “I’m, uh…,” he let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m… Johnny. Johnny Storm.”

The blank stare you gave him in response prompted him to keep going. 

“The Human Torch? Part of the Fantastic Four?”

You shook your head, moving back away from him as your head swiveled around in fear, taking in the surroundings. 

Everything was wrong. The people were all wearing clothing you couldn’t find in stores. The billboards were all in muted, vintage-looking colors and typefaces. The buildings, the restaurants and shops, even the damn cars looked like they had come straight out of an old Hollywood film from the 60s. 

You could tell vaguely where you were. New York. Times Square, only it wasn’t your Times Square. The screens were all different, the ads all having a fuzzy vignette to them, and the streets were too clean. Why were the streets so clean? Not to mention the fact that not a single person had a cell phone out recording whatever the hell interaction was going on here.

You turned back to the man in front of you. He’d said his name was Johnny. You’d seen his face before, only it was different, like the colors had been inverted or something. 

The past few days were a blur, your memory all-too fuzzy. You could recall something about a science experiment, warning lights, a blinding flash, but everything seemed shrouded in a haze, like it was caught behind a frosted pane of glass or somewhere you could see it but not reach it.

Something about this wasn’t right, and you needed to know why. 

You locked eyes with Johnny again, this time your jaw set firm in place.

“Where the hell am I, and who the hell are the Fantastic Four?”

© profangirllu. all rights reserved. copying, translating, or claiming my work as your own is strictly prohibited.

[profangirllu]

Y’all I PROMISE I’m still working on this (pt 2 is at 15k+ words right now but still is not finished but I promise it will be eventually 😭)

[formerlyluckymanticore]

Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.

[profangirllu]

Hey girl! I hope everything is going alright for you! Out of all the Johnny Storm fics I’ve read on here, yours is the one I’m looking forward to the most :)

Ty!!! I’ve been super slow with the next chapter bc I haven’t had as much time to write the last few months :(

I have a lot planned out for the series and even more to write (the next chapter is currently over 12k words and it still isn’t finished!!!) but I hope the wait is worth it. After my finals I should be able to focus on it a bit more 💙💙

[profangirllu]

Hi my love!! I'm loving your fanfic about Johnny Storm! I can't wait for the new chapters 🩵

I’m just now seeing this, but tysm!!! I’ve been working on the next chapter slowly but surely (school has kicked my ass this past semester) so hopefully after my finals are done I’ll have it finished and uploaded 🫶💙

[savedenji]

[profangirllu]

Hello friends!

I am currently working on part 2 of the Johnny Storm series (“Stars Align”)! I will hopefully have it up sometime in the upcoming week if my schedule permits!

Thank you sm for all the love on it so far 🫶🫶

[profangirllu]

Apologies for the delays in uploading, I’m still writing the second part (the rest of the parts have a much clearer vision!) and my schedule has been a bit crazy the past few weeks. I do promise to have part two out this month!!

[profangirllu]

Hello friends!

I am currently working on part 2 of the Johnny Storm series (“Stars Align”)! I will hopefully have it up sometime in the upcoming week if my schedule permits!

Thank you sm for all the love on it so far 🫶🫶

[profangirllu]

icarus (too close to the sun) 𓆩⟡𓆪 J.T.

☆ Description: Joaquín has always overestimated his abilities, but no one ever expects him to actually fail. So when he goes down over the Indian Ocean while helping Sam near Celestial Island, you’re tasked with taking care of him as his roommate. You two are friends at most, so why is it so hard for you to see him like this? ☆ Tags/warnings: roommates/friends to lovers, hurt comfort, lots of angst (especially from reader), mentions of death, injuries, hospitals, mortality, and grief. Happy ending <3 (I think that’s it!) ☆ Word Count: 5.8k+ ☆ Note: I wrote this after rewatching CA:BNW and I just love Joaquín and wanted something angsty. Idk why the roommate au seemed to fit, but I love reading Joaquín roommate fics so I figured I’d try. Not proofread really, but I hope you enjoy! Recommended song below!

Joaquín Torres has always believed that everything in his life would always work out. 

It was how he’d roped you into rooming with him after impulsively moving into a two bedroom apartment in the heart of D.C., not taking into account that his salary wouldn’t be enough to cover monthly rent and groceries on his own. He’d flashed that charming smile you’d come to know so well and convinced you that rooming with him would be better than your all-too small studio because you “needed to be closer to work so you could spend less time commuting and more time living,” not because of his own financial miscalculations.

It was how he’d pushed his way into becoming the new Falcon, trailing behind Sam Wilson and continuing to bluff his way through how great he was at flying and fighting until Sam finally had enough and let him have the suit (but not before taking a few hits from Isaiah Bradley and himself first.)

It was how he would win every game even though he didn’t know how to play, and how he’d confidently come second place in a hot barbecue wing eating contest before promptly throwing up once you two returned home.

He thought he was invincible, capable of doing anything and everything he set his mind to. He believed he could be something like an old legendary hero. You and Sam liked to joke that he was more like Icarus, climbing higher and higher to impossible targets he always set for himself that he somehow managed to hit without being burned.

You never thought he’d actually fall. 

You’d gotten the call late at night, having just freshly showered and changed into one of Joaquín’s old sweatshirts, it’s soft sleeves surrounding you in warmth and the familiar lingering scent of his body wash and cologne. A box of takeout from Joaquín’s favorite Thai place down the street was waiting for you on the table, and the reality dating show that you two were far too invested in every week was queued up on the flat screen in your living room. Joaquín had told you not to watch the new episode without him, but after nearly two weeks of him gone on a mission with Sam with little to no contact and worry eating at you every second, you needed something familiar to ease your nerves and soften the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.

The comfort of the well-loved gray couch behind you was just starting to seep into your bones when your phone buzzed beside you. 

The contact name blared  up at you.

Sam Wilson ⭐️🇺🇸 call incoming…

Something chilled in you, wondering why Sam was calling you with an update instead of Joaquín. 

Be calm, it’s probably nothing.

You slid your finger over the screen to accept, muttering a small, tentative, “Hey Sam,” as you held the phone up to your ear.

Sam’s voice crackled on the other end, shaky and stark.

“Joaquín went down.”

A simple sentence. Three words. But it was  all it took for everything around you to come crumbling down.

The world around you suddenly went hazy. The table in front of you became nothing more than a blur of colors and shapes. Your heart thudded like a drum against your rib cage, threatening to break through as Sam continued.

“He was shot down over the Indian Ocean. He’s in surgery right now… His… his heart stopped. He was dead for two minutes, but they got him back.” Sam took a shaky breath. “He’s stable but critical. I’m sending a car to come pick you…”

You couldn’t register anything else Sam was saying. It was like the room had become a vacuum to suck the air out of your lungs as Sam’s words sucker punched you in the gut. Those words were playing over and over again in your head like some vicious loop.

Heart stopped.

Stable but critical.

Dead for two minutes.

Dead.

Everything was suddenly too bright, too cold, too loud. Your hands lay beside you in a tingling numbness and jaw slack with disbelief. Dread was weighing you down and clogging your ears. You could faintly make out Sam’s voice still coming through the phone speaker, but it was as if you were underwater, sinking slowly deeper and deeper as millions of thoughts raced through your mind.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. Joaquín did a lot of stupid things, made a lot of over confident decisions, but the one thing he never ever did was fall. It wasn’t like him. In fact, it was impossible. 

But this time. This time he really had become Icarus.

And he had finally flown too close to the Sun.

𓆩⟡𓆪

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing tethering you to reality. 

You’d stayed by Joaquín’s bedside all night, even after the doctors told you it would likely be days before he gained consciousness and it would be better for you to go home and rest. One look at your empty, bloodshot eyes and red tearstained cheeks and they didn’t question you. Just gave you sympathetic smiles and told you where the bathrooms and vending machines were. They even let you stay in the room past visiting hours, since you were the closest thing to next of kin Joqauin had in D.C. 

The notes on his chart were engraved in you like a carving on stone. Broken left arm. Multiple lacerations across his body. Bruised ribs. Third degree burns across his right neck and torso.

Every breath you took seemed harder than the last. Keeping your tears at bay was an entirely other beast in and of itself.

Seeing him like this - too-pale and fragile, hooked up to breathing tubes and IVs and monitors, the shallow breath rising up in his chest too faintly and his heart beating too quietly…

It took everything in you to keep the bile in your stomach down.

Sure, he’d gotten injured before. It was rare for him to come home from a mission without a new scar to show off. It was never more than a few cuts and bruises, maybe a strained muscle here or sprained ankle there. None of it was ever enough for you to think about the real dangers of his job.

But now? Now you could see it all over him. Every near death experience, ever punch he’d taken or explosive he’d gotten away from just in time. Each knife he’d gotten slashed with and every rogue operative he’d taken down. All the stories you were sure he was overexaggerating were suddenly all too real for you. And it was finally dawning on you that every day he walked out the door, every week he got a new briefing, every time he pressed a quick, friendly kiss to your head before heading out on a new mission - the ones that meant so much more to you than he knew even though you’d never tell him - was a possibility of him never coming back. 

A possibility of never going on late night supermarket runs because someone forgot to buy more eggs when he ate the last one for breakfast. 

A possibility of him never again dragging you out to karaoke bars on a Friday night, to watch him train with Sam on your day off, or teaching you a new self defense move because he worried about you walking home alone. 

A possibility of never throwing another pillow at him as he woke you up at 5 am on a Saturday to go work out with him because you’ll thank me in ten years when you can still go up a flight of stairs without losing your breath.

A possibility of never seeing him wearing your pink polka dot apron while he cooked for you after a long day. 

A possibility of never seeing his smile when you laughed at something stupid he did, or never hearing him hum his favorite song in the shower. 

A possibility of never getting to tell him that-

No. You shook the thoughts from your head. He’s here. He’s alive. He’ll wake up soon. He’ll come back from this. Joaquín always comes back.

It should’ve comforted you, eased the sharp shards of pain poking their way at your heart. But that word rang through your mind once again.

Dead.

“Hey, kid.”

The voice behind you startled you back into reality,  and you noticed a wetness on your face that hadn’t been there before. Sam stood a few feet away from you, strong but cautious. His gaze was sympathetic on your face before drifting down. Your eyes followed his to where you were gripping Joaquín’s good hand, knuckles so white you could tell that if he were awake he would’ve complained you were hurting him. Like you’d been caught in some criminal act, you quickly retracted your hands and swiped at your face with the sleeves of Joaquín’s sweatshirt, the fabric still tucked around you like his arms giving you warmth and security. 

Sam eased himself slowly into the chair next to you, letting silence fill the room for a few moments. You closed your eyes and focused on the rhythmic sounds of Joaquín’s breathing, the high pitched beep of the monitor. You toyed with the cuffs of his sweatshirt, tucking your chin down and inhaling deeply, trying to get a scent of him that wasn’t masked by sterile antiseptics and plastic hospital bags. 

Sam cleared his throat, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, at his equally bloodshot eyes and exhausted face. He’d been awake every second since Joaquín had been admitted, only leaving the room once you arrived to give you some space. 

He was serious and stoic, but you could see the pain and guilt behind his eyes. His voice was low and sincere when he spoke. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve… I should’ve been able to get him before…”

“Sam-” you began, placing a hand over his. “This isn’t your fault, you know that right?”

Sam shook his head in protest, but you continued. “You’ve always done everything in your power to protect everyone you fight with. I’ve seen it.” There was a crack in your voice as your eyes drifted back over to Joaquín. “Quino - Joaquín. He knew what he was signing up for. And you and I both know he’s the one who always bites off more than he can chew.” 

Sam smiled and huffed out a half-hearted chuckle. 

“Yeah,” he said. “And somehow the dumbass always makes it out in one piece.” Sam’s jaw set firmly. He ran a hand over his face. 

“Hey,” you whispered gently. “He’s still intact. A little rougher around the edges, sure. But he’s here. He’s alive.”

It was more so you trying to convince yourself of this than Captain America, you knew that much. All he did was nod, allowing the room to fall back into the hum of machines and air conditioning. 

A beat passed before he spoke up again. “Almost forgot,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lanyard with a shiny badge on it. “I managed to snag one of these for you. But I had to tell the front desk that you were his girlfriend on top of his emergency contact.”

Sam handed you the visitor’s badge, smirking at the crimson blush spreading up your neck and cheeks.

“Thank - uh… thank you,” you stuttered out, not really knowing how to respond. Sam nudged your shoulder gently.

“You know, you’re gonna have to tell him eventually.”

His knowing smile was easing the tension of the room but upping the embarrassment on you. Shaking your head, you pocketed the lanyard into the pocket of your sweatpants. Eyes trained on Joaquin’s battered face, you let out a breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

It took four days for Joaquín to finally wake up. 

Sam called you while you were at work, planning to come down and stay with him through the night like you had been since he was admitted. Without any hesitation, you called out and rushed over to the hospital, practically threatening your Uber driver to make it there in break neck speed or you would break his neck. 

You didn’t even need to flash your badge to the nurse on duty. She’d seen you plenty of times before, even commented on what a doting girlfriend you are for visiting him every day. You’d kept quiet for the sake of visiting rights - or at least that was what you told yourself every night you sat by Joaquín’s side. 

Deep down, you didn’t mind the lie. 

You weren’t sure when, but somewhere between the entrance to the hospital and the elevator door to the ICU you’d started running. The few nurses and caretakers on duty stepped out of your way without question as you jogged down the hallway and rounded the corner to Joaquín’s room. 

A deep, gentle laugh stopped you dead in your tracks. Through the glass you could make out Sam’s sneakers on the floor and dozens of flower bouquets and gifts from the new Falcon’s fans littered around the room, obstructing your view of the bed that contained the one person that mattered in all of this.

Another laugh bubble up and out of the room. And then the sound of a voice that had become all too familiar in your life followed. 

Joaquín’s voice. Calling your name. 

Hesitantly, you stepped into the room, heels clicking on the polished vinyl flooring that was so clean you could practically see yourself staring back at you. After a moment, you looked up. All of the air seemed to rush out of you.

There, sitting upright with a big dumb smile bright as the Sun plastered on his face, was Joaquín Torres. Bruised and battered, but alive - and awake.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said cheerfully, the nickname he had given you as a joke due to your grumpy disposition in the mornings gliding off his tongue like a sweet siren song to your ears. Hearing his voice again, lively and as Joaquín as ever, was enough to make you drop to your knees and thank whatever higher power had brought him back to you.

Instead, you came up with the incredibly original answer of, “You’re awake.” The words came out breathlessly, and you hoped Joaquín didn’t noticed the disheveled nature of your hair and clothing as a result of your Steve Rogers-esque sprint to see him.

“That I am,” Joaquín answered with a chuckle.

Sam eyed the two of you, sighing and standing up out of his chair and heading to the door.

“I’m gonna go for a walk, give you two some time to… catch up,” he said. “Want anything from the vending machine?”

You shook your head, stomach too queasy with unease to eat anything right now. Joaquín called after Sam to grab him a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos on the way back. 

Settling into the chair Sam had just left, you looked around, gazing at the floor, the window, the chart on the wall. Anything but Joaquín’s cut up face. Every time you closed your eyes and tried to picture him, all you could see was his near lifeless form, his face drained of color and replaced with wounds that painted his skin.

The hospital room suddenly felt much smaller with the Avenger gone and no one else there to buffer you two. 

Your eyes settled at your hands laying intertwined in your lap. You twiddled your thumbs, an anxious habit you’d had since childhood that only came out in your most stressful moments. Finally, you gathered the courage to speak. 

“How are you feeling?”

Joaquín shrugged. “Pain’s pretty bad, but they just put some more meds in my IV so it should subside. Food’s not the best, but it sure beats whatever the hell we tried making for the Superbowl last year.” 

You smiled fondly at the memory of you two somehow managing to burn spinach dip in the kitchen as Sam, Bucky, and a few of your mutual friends watched the game in the living room. The two of you had tried to cover it up and serve it anyways, biting back laughter when everyone lied straight through their teeth about how good it was, even though they looked like they were about to vomit. 

“The nurses are nice,” he continued, fingers lightly toying with one of the ties of his hospital gown. “Tina, she reminds me of my mom. Apparently she’s coming out to see me tomorrow, so I won’t be so lonely when you and Sam are gone. Though, I gotta say, waking up to this-” he gestured vaguely to everything around him, the teddy bears and flowers and cards and crayon drawings of him in his suit. “- this isn’t so bad. I mean, look at that!”

He pointed to a drawing of him in his Falcon gear, clearly done by some elementary schooler at recess with a love for green art supplies. His wings were outstretched like he was in flight, his little sketched fist pointing up towards the yellow sun drawn in the corner of the page. A pang shot through your chest. 

He looked just like Icarus.

“You gotta admit, that is awesome,” he said, laughing a little before he was cut off abruptly by a wince. His dark brows contorted in pain and his monitor spiked, the beats getting slightly more rapid as they followed his heart. You jumped up from your chair and rushed to his side.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you stuttered out frantically. “Are you hurt? I can - I can go call a nurse if you-”

There was a light pressure on your wrist as your eyes flitted around Joaquín’s body, eyeing the tubes and bandages wrapped around him. Your gaze moved up to meet his, brown eyes looking at you intently with a fondness you liked to think was reserved for you and you only.

“I’m fine,” he said calmly. “Just laughed too hard for my ribs to handle right now. That’s all.” A heavy pause settled between the two of you, like Joaquín could tell that something was weighing on your mind, but didn’t want to push it. You’d come to him in your own time.

“Sam told me you’ve been here every day, watching over me,” he began. You swallowed thickly and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t find it weird that you had stayed here more than his mentor or next of kin. His hand drifted down from your wrist to hold yours, giving it a little squeeze when his fingers wrapped around your palm. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. Finally, you met his eyes, taking in his form now that he was awake. The color had returned to his cheeks, the minor cuts on his face already healing and the bruise that was once raw and purple against his cheek was blooming into a brownish yellow. His eyes were bright as ever, holding that inexplicable fiery determination you admired so fiercely about him.

He was here, he was alive. That was all that mattered to you right now. 

You squeezed his hand in return, not realizing that your thumb was gently grazing his knuckles as you took him in.

“Any time.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

Another three weeks and Joaquín had finally been cleared for discharge, sent home with a packet of instructions, medications, and placed under your care.

You were suddenly glad you had a bunch of vacation days saved up from the year - a result of you working over time to keep your mind occupied while your roommate was away on his various missions and the fact that you didn’t really have much of a life anyway. Sam had even gotten a letter from the hospital requesting you take a paid leave of absence for a few weeks to care for a future Avenger. 

The past two weeks had been much of the same: doctor’s visits, routine check-ins from Sam, dressing and redressing Joaquin’s wounds. You’d gotten so used to the smell of peroxide and burn ointment that you were starting to forget what your apartment had smelled like before all of this. 

Joaquín was getting better. He’d been demoted from a sling to a simple cast around his forearm, the doctors saying that he was healing surprisingly quickly, likely a result of his age and health. He’d given you a pointed look that said See, this is why you need to exercise with me. 

Days passed by with you driving Joaquín to physical therapy appointments or relaxing on the couch to finally catch up on your show together. He slept a lot as a result of his body recovering, and every time you would keep your eyes trained on his chest, watching the rise and fall of it like a bird watching waves on a nearby sand dune. You knew they were constant, steady, real. But something inside you feared that if your eyes left for even a second you would hear a flatline.

Then there were the nightmares. The ones Joaquín swore he wasn’t having. But you could tell by the way he would jolt awake from a mid day recovery nap, forehead beaded with sweat as he frantically felt around for something solid to remind him that he wasn’t falling anymore. Or at night when you could hear him stutter awake from across the hall, your door kept ajar in case he needed anything. His heavy breathing and muttered curses didn’t fall on deaf ears, seeing as you too were awake half the night worrying about him. 

You’d been having night terrors as well. Ones that came in the form of shaking hands and a sweat-slicked back sticking to your sheets as dread pushed you into your mattress. Countless nights, each one the same thing. Your brain contorting Sam’s initial call a few weeks ago into one that told you Joaquín really was gone, headlines blaring news of the Falcon’s unexpected and tragic death projected on the back of your eyelids as you slept. Joaquín’s face pale and lifeless as those two minutes stretched into hours and days. Until he was actually gone. Until his heart stopped. 

Forever. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

Saturday mornings were almost back to normal for you two now. Six weeks since his accident and Joaquín was nearly back to his regular self. He was moving well, his smaller injuries had all healed and were beginning to fade. His cast had gotten smaller, more of a brace than anything else now. But the lacerations and burns on his torso were taking longer than you would’ve liked. 

Dead.

It rang out like a gunshot in your head, echoing over and over and over again. 

You thought it would’ve gone away by now, now that Joaquín was awake and active and slowly but surely getting back to himself. But every time you saw his wounds, still healing or already turned into scabs or scars, it hit you all over again like a freight train without brakes.

The light of the tiny guest bathroom was horrible when you needed to see what you were doing. Joaquín’s bandages needed to be replaced, and even though he said he was perfectly fine to do it himself, you insisted - no, demanded that he let you continue to take care of him.

Your hands worked quickly as you gingerly redressed the burns on Joaquín’s torso, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he was very much shirtless and far too close for comfort right now. Your hands gently glided over the twisted, gnarled tissue and you felt your face start to betray you. A slight quiver of your lip, the barely-there pinprick tears starting at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t let him see you like this, see you so affected and heartbroken over something that didn’t even happen to you. You had to stay strong for him, not let him know just how much you cared about him. How much you lo-

Pressing the medical tape over the last piece of gauze just above his rib cage, you threw the thoughts out of your mind. Discarding of the scraps, you hurriedly packed away the first aid kit as Joaquín carefully put his shirt back on. 

“Thanks,” he said with a tiny grateful smile from behind you. “Don’t know what I’d do without my favorite nurse.”

It shouldn’t have bothered you, none of this should have. You knew about his job, knew the risks associated with it. You weren’t even his family, so why were you still so broken up about this? Swallowing the pit in your throat, you gave a half-hearted nod in response. 

Joaquín’s brows knit together. “Hey,” he murmured, as you turned around and left the bathroom wordlessly. He called after you as you made your way down the hall and into the living room. 

The medical kit was still in your hands, digging into your fingers from the force of your grip. You kept your head down, teeth digging into your lower lip to keep the flood of emotions from spilling over. The two of you were just roommates, friends at most. You shouldn’t have still been this devastated over him getting hurt. Not unless there was something else, something you swore you’d keep to yourself until it went away. 

That word kept replaying over and over and over: dead dead dead dead dead. He was right there, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t you just move on? 

Joaquín trailed behind you like an overgrown puppy, desperately trying to get your attention. He said your name, once. Twice. A third time, but you couldn’t answer. Hot, wet tears were already making their way down your face as he took the medical kit and laid it on the couch. He was face to face with you now, hands - one normal, one covered and still healing - on the sides of your arms as he desperately tried to search your face.

“Did I do something? Did I say something wrong?”

You couldn’t answer, the knot in your throat building its way up to a cry you didn’t want to escape. Every muscle in your body was shaking now from the effort of concealing everything. 

A gentle pressure lifted your chin, Joaquín’s hand guiding your face until your eyes met his worried gaze. Your glossy eyes and blotchy face immediately deepened his concern. Joaquín’s voice was low and strong.

“Sunshine, what’s wrong?”

And then you broke. 

Ugly, window shattering sobs wracked your body as weeks worth of tears and bottled up emotions flooded past your eyes. Your shoulders trembled violently like you were being shaken by an earthquake, and Joaquín instinctively cupped one hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you into his chest. Your hands gripped his shirt for dear life, as if he’d fly away and be lost forever if you let go. He pressed a few soft kisses to your head, the kind he’d do to all his friends except this time - this time  it was more tender, more intimate. You could faintly make out him whispering sweet nothings to you.

And then in amongst all your grief and overwhelming sadness, you felt something hot bubble up in your chest. You pulled away and looked him in the eyes, his dark irises full of concern and searching your face.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered. 

Your mouth quivered again, this time contorting into something stuck between a frown and a scowl. Your fist weakly pushed at him in frustration.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? You were gone, Joaquín. Do you understand that? You were… you were…”

You didn’t want to say it out loud, that word that had been haunting you for well over a month now. But you had to face it.

“You were dead.” 

It came out as a weak whisper, stark against the rising tone your voice had adopted mere seconds ago. That one, four letter word that you never wanted to hear again was now hanging in the air between you like an arrow frozen in mid flight, ready and waiting to strike one of you and take you down. 

Joaquín’s eyes widened in realization of what had been tormenting you these past few weeks.

He shook his head, “But I’m here, see? I’m okay, we’re okay. I’m right here.”

More tears spilled down your face like a waterfall. “You don’t get it, Joaquín. Your heart stopped. Your heart stopped for two minutes.” That empty despair was clawing at your stomach again.  “For two minutes you were gone! Completely gone. Forever. You could’ve… I could’ve…” 

You pawed at your splotchy cheeks, trying to rid yourself of those godforsaken tears. “God, I could’ve lost you.”

Joaquín’s eyes softened, his hand rubbing slow circles on your waist. Through the fabric of your shirt you could feel the rough edge of his brace, a wall between you and the touch that normally comforted you so much. 

Millions of scenarios were running through your head. The haunting image of you dressed in all black standing next to Joaquín’s sobbing mother and a hard-faced Sam as a casket with an American flag draped over it was lowered into the ground. Another picture of you waking up in the morning to go and check on him in his room, only to see his skin dull and gray as he lay there limp, chest still and breath gone. Your heart felt like it was shattering over and over again with grief you were feeling over something that never even happened.

“You didn’t lose me, Sunshine,” he whispered gently, his voice cutting through the messy static of your mind. Slowly and softly he took your hands and guided them up to cup his face, pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks and the strong line of his jaw. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes met his, darting between his irises and his face as your thumb rubbed against his cheek. Your lips trembled as more tears leaked from your eyes. Joaquín brushed them away with a gentle touch. 

“I can’t lose you,” you choked out. “I… I couldn’t lose you. Not without… not without telling you…”

“Telling me what, Sunshine?” Joaquín asked, his face laced with concern. 

It’s now or never. Tell him. Tell him before you lose him for good one day.

You let out a shaky breath and swallowed, eyes still locked on his. This time, you were unwavering. 

“I couldn’t lose you without telling you… I love you. More than just a roommate or a friend, I…” you shook your head as you tried to regain your composure. “I love you, Joaquín.”

Joaquín’s eyes filled with confusion, then shock, then finally…

Relief. 

He smiled that absolutely dazzling smile that you loved seeing. In a single motion, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close to his chest again with your arms moving from cupping his face to wrapping around his neck. You could feel him pepper your head with quick kisses before he pulled back to look at you.

“That’s amazing,” he said. “Because I love you too.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

After you had calmed down - and after your grand and emotional declaration of undying love - you and Joaquín decided you two needed a night to yourselves. No calling doctors offices or answering Sam’s calls or writing up statements to release to the press about when Joaquín would be back in action. Just you and him and nothing in between.

Empty takeout containers from the Thai place Joaquín loved sat on the table in front of you two as you relaxed on the couch, closer than you had ever sat together before. You curled into Joaquín’s side - the uninjured one of course - and he wrapped his arm tighter around you before pressing a kiss to your head. 

The finale of the reality show you two loved was playing on the screen, but Joaquín was hardly paying attention anymore, just soaking in the feeling of you being with him, knowing that the feelings he’d tried to keep from you for so long were actually reciprocated.

As if you could feel his eyes on you, you looked up at him curiously. 

“What?” you asked. “Do I have something on my face again?”

Joaquín chuckled and shook his head, “No, no, it’s just… do you even know why I call you Sunshine?”

You gave him a blank stare and scoffed. “Uh, yeah. It’s because I get grumpy in the mornings, which - by the way - is your own fault because you know how much I hate being talked to when it's early.”

“Actually, that’s not the reason,” he countered. “Like… at all.”

You sat up suddenly to face him, completely disregarding the show to give him your full attention. How dare he let you believe a false reason for the nickname you had grown to love so much.

You gave him an expectant look.

“Well,” he took your hand in his. “You know how you and Sam always call me Icarus? Like, me being overconfident and flying to close to the Sun and all that?”

You nodded, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as to what he was getting at. 

“Well, I figured if there was anything I’d be willing to fall for while trying to reach, it would be… you. You’re… you’re the reason I keep going. The reason I try to be better every day.” He gazed at your face like you’d hung the stars in the sky and made every single one of his favorite songs. 

“You’re my Sun.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, at the beautiful, heroic man sitting across from you. The once broken and terrified heart that had lived in your chest the past few weeks swelled. 

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, biting back the grin that was forming on your face. Joaquín caught it, smiling back at you. 

“You love it,” he whispered as he leaned in, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up to his. Your lips met, fitting like puzzle pieces and melting together like a warm embrace. It was soft, just a momentary kiss, but it held more emotion and meaning than any long winded makeout session ever could have.

As you two pulled apart and you snuggled back in next to him, Joaquín turned back to the television, eyes popping out of his head as he exclaimed, “Hold on, did Taylor just say no at the altar?!”

A laugh escaped from your mouth as you settled in, breathing in the scent of Joaquín’s shirt and listening to the strong beat of his heart in his chest. 

You had Joaquín back, he wasn’t going anywhere. 

If you were the Sun he was trying so desperately to get close to, you would let him in without hesitation, with open arms and loving heart.

And if he faltered?

You would always be there to catch him if he fell.

______________________________________________________________

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