I wrote this for the 2017 SpideyTorch Big Bang, and the lovely artists meereswiederkaeuer and hazirart went above and beyond to create both fantastic and amazing art for this fic. Please visit them at their blogs and give them all the love!

I do not own the Fantastic Four or Spider-Man.

This fic has also been cross-posted to both AO3 (Bookdancer) and tumblr (bookdancerfics). Both have direct links to the art with them, as well.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Underage Drinking, Animal Abuse, Dog Fighting, Non-Consensual Drug Use (aka someone uses chloroform on dog!Johnny)

There's no clear universe for either the Fantastic Four or Spider-Man, I just kind of mixed them all together. I hope you all enjoy!

The Long Road Home

Chapter One

Johnny huddled into his seat at his third bar of the night. Just like with his first two choices, this one had proved to be less than adequate in terms of distractions. All he wanted was to forget his crush on Spider-Man, but it seemed that no amount of alcohol could take the other superhero off his mind. Instead, he sat in the corner and, for lack of a better word, wallowed.

As brooding as he was, though, it figured that he wouldn't remain hidden for the whole night. Three bars could do a lot to someone, and Johnny was noticeably drunk.

She approached from his right, silver dress shimmering as it swished, to take a seat next to Johnny. She smiled at him, friendly and without any apparent flirtatiousness.

Johnny waved to the bartender and then pointed at the woman. "Whatever she wants," he said.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression obviously amused. "We haven't even introduced ourselves."

"Don't need to," Johnny grunted. He took another swig of his beer. Perks of being a celebrity: they never really cared that he was only nineteen. "Not like I'll be going home with you or anything."

"Is that so?" she rested her chin in her hand, tapping one manicured fingernail on her bottom lip. "A martini," she told the bartender. "Gin, dry, stirred and straight up. Thanks."

Johnny drained the last dregs of his own drink. "Water, please. An' thanks."

"Anything for the Torch," the bartender said.

"Like I said," Johnny mumbled. "Thanks."

The strange woman smiled again. "So. You're not going home with me, but could we at least talk about a certain crush you have?"

The bartender briefly interrupted them, placing the woman's martini, Johnny's water, and a basket of chips in front of them.

"On the house," the bartender murmured, looking right at Johnny. "You look like you need them."

Once the bartender left, the stranger continued. "Please," she said, waving away Johnny's startled look. "You look positively lovesick, kid. I'm only here to help."

"Help how?" Johnny said. He had already been suspicious, but this was getting weird. And no one could help when Spider-Man didn't like him back.

The woman took a sip of her martini. "Mmm, good choice of bar, kid."

"Name," Johnny demanded. "And help how?"

She waved her hand in dismissal. "I don't have one you can use. Yet. I just need you to do something for me, first."

"Like what?"

"You'll see… now, this crush of yours?"

Johnny stared at her. It seemed like no matter what he did, she just wasn't going to leave until he told her everything. "It's complicated."

"Says you," she said.

"He doesn't like me."

"Says you," she said again.

Johnny rolled his eyes and gulped down some of his water. "Like you know any better. You don't even know him."

"No, but I do know you." She finished off her martini and then stood, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Now… follow me. Leave the drink."

Johnny didn't quite understand why he did as she said, but he followed the woman away from the bar. They walked through the crowd, ignoring the stares and whispers.

"That's the Torch!" they said.

"What's he doing here?"

"Where's he going?"

The crowd parted not for the woman, but for Johnny, their stares following the two until they exited both the crowd and the building.

As soon as the doors closed, the woman turned and snapped her fingers at him.

Johnny collapsed to the ground, his eyes already closed.


Johnny smelled the garbage first. Spoiled milk, at least two dirty diapers, what better have been the remains of a hotdog and not a corndog, and who knew what else. Wait. Johnny froze, his nose twitching. He knew. He could tell. He… Opening his eyes revealed a strange world. Strange as in relatively non-colorful, not strange as in the Negative Zone. At that point, Johnny couldn't really say which he would prefer.

"Oh, Sue is gonna kill me…" Johnny groaned. Or at least he tried to. "Was that… was that barking? Am I barking? I can't be that hungover…"

He looked down.

"Oh, shit nuggets."

"You really shouldn't swear, hon." Johnny looked up at the new voice, automatically locking onto the same woman who was at the bar. "No, I can't understand you, but who could mistake that tone, huh?"

Johnny growled and lunged forward. Or tried to. There seemed to be a lot of that going around lately. Instead his paws (paws?!) caught in the garbage pile he'd been dumped in, sending him face first into the ground.

"Aw, pooch," the woman said, her heals clacking on concrete as she approached. "It won't be that bad. I promise it'll all be over soon… you just have to do something for me first." Johnny looked up just in time to watch her wink at him, and then… poof. Woman - or maybe witch - gone. Johnny thumped his head down on the edge of the dumpster. Because as if being turned into a dog - yellow lab? - wasn't enough, the witch had dumped him in a dumpster, too. He thought that was Hawkeye and Daredevil's job. Johnny wasn't cut out to be a dumpster bro!

First things first, though… Reed. Aka the best brain he knew. Reed could fix him, which meant he needed to get home. Johnny finally jumped out of the dumpster and futilely licked at his own blonde, short-haired coat. From what he could see, definitely a yellow lab. Scratch that, definitely a dirty yellow lab. What would Spider-Man think?!

Johnny tried to push thoughts of his best friend and most recent crush out of his mind, focusing on finding the Baxter Building. If he remembered the night correctly, he had bar hopped across the city, starting down the block from the Baxter Building. As a rule, he tried to take taxis home in order to not drink-and-fly, if only to make Sue happy, which meant that he was probably as far away from home as he could have possibly gotten.

Sighing, Johnny turned his paws toward where he thought the Baxter Building was. As interested as he was to discover whether or not he should look into renaming himself the Yellow LabraTorch, he figured a dog that could both flame on and fly wouldn't exactly be inconspicuous, and he really didn't need the extra attention from the media. Paws it was.

Unfortunately for Johnny, it didn't take him long to realize that as much as he thought home, his paws really weren't leading him to the Baxter Building, or even anywhere near the Baxter Building. Instead, the structures around him slowly grew smaller and smaller, giving Johnny the impression that he was actually heading in the opposite direction.

Turning a corner, Johnny slumped to the ground as the sign "Empire State University" loomed into view. Oh yeah. He was definitely lost.

Johnny shivered, the cold of the night finally settling in past his fur. October… not the best month to be turned into a dog and left to wander the streets.

"The witches come out on Halloween," he grumbled. "She's at least two weeks early!"

Sighing and then panting a little, he licked his lips as the scent of popcorn drifted from an open window. Johnny padded up and peeked inside, watching people move around inside what looked to be a college dorm room. One of them turned and, on seeing their eyes widen, Johnny sprinted away as fast as his dog-legs could take him. He needed to find Reed. He needed to get home.

Home, he pointedly tried to tell his paws not even a full block later, was definitely the other way. As in behind him. As in not this way.

And yet, as Johnny's nose nudged open an apartment building's door, and his paws led him inside, he found his tail beginning to wag. For some reason that not even Johnny could explain, his dog-self liked it here. He trooped up four flights of stairs and then, following his own paws, stopped outside one of the doors.

Home, he sighed, smelling spandex and take-away. Johnny finally let his tired legs collapse, dropping to the hardwood floor and pushing his nose against the door, tail gently thumping behind him.

As he fell asleep, Johnny only hoped his dog-self had a good explanation for why it thought some random person's apartment qualified as home.


Johnny woke up to clumsy feet, hard shoes, and some kind of freak out happening above his head. He stood and then looked up, only to find that whoever had tripped over him hadn't quite caught their balance yet. The result was him looking down instead of up.

Brown eyes met his own blue ones, and his tail began to wag in response. Then Johnny actually recognized the man standing in front of him, and his day not only got a lot worse, but he couldn't understand why his tail didn't stop wagging. Peter Parker. Not only a nuisance of a photographer, but his arch nemesis in the war for Spider-Man's heart. The guy had been around since the Stone Ages. Or at least the Stone Ages in terms of Spider-Man. He was always around, using his camera to get Spidey's attention. Johnny tried to scoff, but all that came out was a bark and another tail wag. Typical.

"And what are you doing?" Peter said, kneeling in front of Johnny. To his own embarrassment, Johnny's tail wagging doubled its speed and his tongue involuntarily licked at Peter's face. All the guy did was laugh, though, and Johnny decided that he could be excused on account of his own doggy instincts. It wasn't his fault happiness seemed to be a permanent dog trait, even around a guy like Peter Parker. "Were you just hanging out all night, huh?"

"Not all night," Johnny protested, but all that came out was a whine, and Johnny ducked his head in embarrassment (what was up with that lately? Johnny didn't just go around and get embarrassed).

"N'aaawwww, that's okay, pup, huh?" Peter was practically cooing at him now, and Johnny made a desperate wish for his masculinity to come back and save him this instant. And he was not a pup! … he was almost full grown, okay? Nineteen in human years had just transferred awkwardly in dog years.

Sighing, Johnny laid down on his tummy, made his eyes as big as possible, and then raised them to look at the other man with the hope that he looked as desperate as he thought he did. He needed to get home and, as his stomach so kindly reminded him, he also needed food. Not to mention that Peter knew other superheroes besides Johnny. If Johnny could make Peter realize that he was actually Johnny Storm, then Peter could contact another superhero and get help.

Peter scratched at the back of his own neck, looked back and forth down the hallway, and then looked back down at Johnny. Absently, the hand scratching his neck moved to scratching Johnny's head. "Where're your folks, bud?"

Johnny just kept staring. If Peter didn't do anything soon, he was gonna have to set off by himself again and just pray that his paws wouldn't lead him right back here. Not only would it mean that he had gone in circles, but it would mean seeing Peter's stupid face again. Which he didn't like. At all. War for Spider-Man's affections, Johnny, focus!

"Okay, okay…" Peter hesitated, then kept talking. To Johnny's dog-self's happiness, his hand kept scratching, too. "Uh, so the thing is, bud, I should be heading to class right now… but I can't leave you here by yourself, can I?"

Johnny blinked at him.

"… and I'm talking to a dog. Great. Shake your head twice if you can understand me, okay?"

Johnny automatically shook his head, and then shook it again, but Peter must have been talking sarcastically because he was looking back down the hallway, toward the exit. Useless as always, Johnny scowled. He was probably thinking about his class instead of, ya know, trying to figure out how to get the strange dog who could understand him to Reed Richards. Or even Tony Stark. Or Hank Pym. Even Bruce Banner, although Johnny honestly preferred Banner's alter-ego. As long as Peter got him to a superhero, though, Johnny could work it out from there.

Just not Spider-Man. Johnny didn't think his ego could take it.

Peter finally sighed and looked back down at Johnny. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Um, I'm gonna take you inside, and you're not gonna destroy my apartment because I really can't afford that, and then I'm gonna email my teachers and lie. For you. You got that, dog? I'm gonna lie to my professors just for you. Tell them I have a family emergency or something. Maybe I'm sick. I dunno, I'll figure it out. But I can't tell them I'm skipping for a dog. And I'm babbling, so… yeah. And then we'll go from there. I gotta figure out what to do with you… Oh… and I'm Peter. You should probably know that. Not that you can understand me or anything…"

Johnny tilted his head again. At first he thought it was in acknowledgement of Peter's words, but then he realized that the shift had moved Peter's scratching fingers right to that spot by his ear, and… and his dog-self was really selfish, Johnny decided.

Peter stood up, and Johnny followed instinctively, his tail still wagging (and seriously, what was up with that?). Together, human-turned-dog and human-well…-nemesis walked into Peter's apartment.

Of course the first instinct of Johnny's dog-self was to turn right back around and bark at the door, ready to be let out. Idiot, he thought. If he kept acting like a dog, kept letting his dog instincts take control, Peter would never believe that he was really human.

Tail wagging a little less now, Johnny forcibly pulled himself away from the door.

"Okay… weird," Peter said, eyeing him. He shook himself and dumped his backpack on the ground, then took out his laptop and set it up on the kitchen counter. "You're lucky Harry's not here, dog… he's got an early class, or I'd be getting an earful right now. Probably about how we - or, rather, me, because he certainly could - can't afford you… and he's right. Crap."

Johnny barked.

"… and I can't keep calling you 'dog'." Peter took in a deep breath and then let it out.

Johnny sat and swished his tail across the floor, tilting his head in interest.

Peter stared at him. "… Ruff?"

Johnny stared back. Absolutely not.

"Erm… Spidey?"

Nope, Johnny decided. He was not taking the name of another superhero. … not even the name of his crush. Jonathan Lowell Spencer Spider-Man, his mind whispered. Traitor, he whispered back. (Besides, Spider-Man had a secret identity… he didn't even know what his last name would be.)

Peter leaned back against the counter. "… Sunny?"

Johnny's first instinct was to back away, and he kind of did, his paws shuffling backward on the floor. Then he remembered Sue telling him once to check his masculinity at the door. Aw, hell. What could it hurt? Besides, it was probably the closest he could get to his superhero name.

He stood and wagged his tail.

Of course, Peter's response was to just stare and, "Seriously?"

Johnny growled.

"Okay, okay, I just…" More staring… what was it with Peter and the staring? "Alright. Sunny it is… Sunny?"

Johnny barked.

"Okay, awesome… now… classes. Professors who I don't want to get angry at me… email." Peter dropped his head into his hands.


Johnny laid down while Peter sent off his emails, panting with his tongue sticking out. Weird. Stupid dog instincts. As soon as Peter closed his laptop, Johnny tried to stand up again.

"Tried" being the key word.

One minute Johnny was struggling to get vertical, and the next he… well he went down. He huffed, automatically leaning out to lick at the pads of his feet.

"Sunny?" Peter asked, and Johnny barked. He tried to make it as threatening as he could, because he really didn't need or want Peter butting in when his paws suddenly hurt like this, but Peter ignored him.

Instead, his nemesis reached for Johnny's paws and looked at each one before looking back up at Johnny, his eyes worried. Well that couldn't be good.

"How the heck were you still standing?" Peter asked. Johnny barked. "I gotta get you to…" Peter stopped then, and Johnny stared for two point four seconds before it clicked.

"No," he said, already making a futile attempt to stand up. "No vet."

"It'll be a surprise," Peter tried, forcing a smile, and suddenly Johnny was being bodily lifted into the air, Peter's arms clutching him to a surprisingly muscular chest.

There was the jangle of keys, a brief moment of panic as Peter tripped - "Don't you dare drop me, or I'll get Spidey to drop you!" - and regained his balance, and then they were out the door.

Johnny stared at the receding apartment as they hurried down the corridor.

"Goodbye, Peter Parker's dump," he said. "I hope I'll never see you again."


So it turned out that when Peter verbally omitted the word "vet," he decided to physically omit it, too.

"Sunny," Peter cooed (and he could really stop doing that, Johnny was not a dog, thank you very much), "This is Claire. She's gonna take care of your paws, okay?"

Johnny stared up into exasperated eyes and decided that this Claire really hadn't planned on getting into this. Good for her.

"Peter," Claire started, even as her hands gently picked up Johnny's paws to take a look. Johnny laid on her kitchen table, Peter standing above him with one hand stroking his ear. "I'll have you know that I am a nurse, not a vet."

"I don't have money," Peter said, and was his voice frantic? He couldn't care that much about Johnny, could he? "You were the first person I thought of."

"And I appreciate that, but what if I hadn't been here? Or what if Matt had been here? What then?"

Matt? Who was Matt?

"Dr. Banner?" Peter asked, and wait, what?

Johnny barked. He really needed a better way to communicate, but for now it would have to do. Pulling his paws out of Claire's hands, he leapt to his feet and barked in Peter's face. Finally, something he and his dog instincts could agree on!

"Woah, Sunny, she's just trying to help!" Peter protested, his hands up as if to surrender.

Claire frowned. "You need to hold him down so I can treat his paws. They're pretty torn up; it looks like he was walking around a lot before you found him, and these streets aren't exactly good for a dog's pads."

"You can fix them, though, right?"

"Who do you take me for, huh, Pete?"

Peter grinned, a bit sheepish looking, and Johnny did his best to raise his dog eyebrows. "Sorry, sorry, I just… I've got a lot on my plate right now, ya know? I guess I just don't want Sunny to be suffering because of me."

Staring at Peter, Johnny decided that the guy was actually being genuine for once. Slowly, keeping his eyes on Peter, Johnny sank back down and laid on his side, pushing his paws into Claire's hands.

"Wow," Claire said, and Johnny almost thought she sounded impressed. "It's almost like he can understand you."

Johnny sighed. When would they figure it out? And how did Peter know the Hulk's alter-ego? How - Fingers scratched along his flank, following the hair from his shoulders to his tail. Johnny let out a low whine and his tail twitched. All other thoughts beyond getting pet slipped from his mind.


Sometime around getting his paws wrapped, Johnny passed out with his tongue lolling, his tail softly slapping against the table, and Peter's fingers scratching along the top of his head. Personally, he would love to blame his dog-self for that, but in all honesty it was… well. Johnny would never say that getting pet by Perfect Peter Parker was ever calming, and he'd exercise his right to the fifth amendment to keep it that way.

Johnny woke up with his face shoved into Peter's lap.

No one would ever be able to say he'd ever moved faster than he did in that moment. Looking around, Johnny could see that he must have been laying next to Peter on the couch. Dog Cops was on the TV, and Johnny resisted the urge to groan. Peter's sense of humor apparently sucked worse than… than… well anything Johnny could think of right then.

Peter looked at him in amusement, the bastard; if only he knew who he had just been cuddling…

"Aw, Sunny," Peter said, one hand stretched out. To sniff? As if. "It's okay."

Johnny turned his back on Peter, determined to not fall for anything. He needed to stay focused, needed to get back to the Baxter Building. Needed to get back to Sue… back to Spider-Man.

Curling up on the opposite side of the couch than Peter, Johnny buried his nose into his own side and tried not to think about the past 24 hours. Tried not to think about how many locked doors stood between him and his family, the first one not twenty feet away from him. Tried not to think about how maybe he'd made the biggest mistake of his life just by following Peter fucking Parker into his apartment. And he tried not to think about how no one knew that he'd been turned into a dog except for the literal witch who'd done the dirty deed.

Somehow, Johnny managed to fall back asleep to the sound of Peter channel-surfing. All he could hope for was that when he woke back up, everything would be revealed to be a nightmare.


When Johnny woke back up, it was only to reality.

Surprisingly enough, reality smelled and looked a whole lot more like Peter's roommate-whose-name-Johnny-could-not-remember and a whole lot less like Peter himself.

His first clue was when the roommate flopped down on the couch, a bowl of microwaved ramen in hand, and greeted him with "hey, dog."

Johnny stared. As much as he didn't like Peter (arch-nemesis, his heart promised), Sue had always preached the devil you knew versus the devil you didn't whenever he tried to leave Aunt Marygay's house for Sue's dingy college apartment. Which made Peter the devil he knew (though barely tolerated), and the unnamed-roommate the devil he didn't.

Roommate shot him a cursory look and chuckled. "Bet you were lookin' for Pete, huh, dog? No worries, he always disappears around now. Don't know how he ever gets his homework done. But he'll come stumbling in around three, four in the morning, you'll see."

All Johnny could think of doing was growling, so low in his throat that Roommate couldn't even hear him. For some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint yet, Roommate got on his nerves more than Peter did. Considering Peter was enemy number one in the war for Spider-Man's heart, this definitely concerned Johnny.

"Did Pete give you a name yet? Texted me to say we got a dog, but nothin' else. Figures though, you know? Barely see him these days, why should I get to hear from him, too?"

Finally electing to ignore Roommate, Johnny closed his eyes again. He didn't sleep, but at least the guy shut up.


Johnny finally blinked his eyes back open a little after four in the morning. Something creaked from the direction of the bedrooms, but one glance to Roommate (passed out on the couch) told him that suspect number one had an alibi.

It didn't take him long to decide to at least check out whatever had made the sound. Even if these weren't his favorite people, and even if he was currently a dog, Johnny was still a superhero.

He slunk down the hallway, carefully placing his paws so his claws didn't click on the hardwood, and followed the noises to a room on the right. Johnny looked up only to see a closed door. Normally, a dog wouldn't be able to get in. But Johnny wasn't a normal dog. Raising himself up on his hind legs, Johnny managed to get a good grip on the door knob in his mouth. Slowly, so it didn't slip, Johnny twisted the handle.

The door opened, a click resonating from where the door met the wall. Nosing open the door, Johnny stepped inside to see - holy shit.

Peter Parker stood in the room with round eyes locked on the door. Peter Parker. Who also happened to be dressed in the Spider-Man suit. Johnny's eyes tracked down Peter's arms to his hand, which clenched the Spider-Man mask in white-knuckled fingers.

Peter Parker in the Spider-Man suit. Peter Parker taking pictures of Spider-Man (only ever Spider-Man, no other superheroes). Peter Parker agreeing to take pictures of Johnny as Johnny but not as the Human Torch. Peter Parker never actually being in the same vicinity as Spider-Man, despite being the one to take his pictures. Peter Parker in the Spider-Man suit.

Holy shit nuggets.

"Sunny?" Peter (Spider-Man? Peter? Peter Spider-Man? Peter Parker? Johnny Lowell Spencer Parker) whispered. He tossed the mask into his closet and quickly shucked the top half of his uniform.

Somehow, the six-pack of abs on Peter Parker made infinitely more sense than Johnny would have thought they did not even an hour before.

"Hey, Sunny, I just need you to be quiet for me, yeah?" Peter continued, but he really shouldn't have been concerned because all Johnny could do was stare.

Peter flopped onto the bed and tugged off the bottom spandex. (Spandex, Johnny's mind reminded him. The place smelled of spandex and take-away.) Thankfully, the briefs stayed on. (Thankfully, there were briefs in the first place.)

"Sunny?" Peter said, and Johnny watched as the rest of the uniform followed the mask into the closet. There was a pause, and Johnny looked up to meet Peter's eyes with his own. "… how did you get the door open?"

And Johnny flipped out, leaping at Peter, trying to lick at his face, and barking all the while.

"Sunny?" Peter said. "Sunny, stop! Down! Down, boy! Sit!"

Johnny stopped. Not because Peter told him to, oh no. He stopped because he hadn't actually attempted to flame on yet. There was no point in doing so if all it did was attract unwanted attention. Wanted attention, though… now that Johnny could do.

Settling his weight so it sat evenly on his paws, Johnny stared down at his front paws. "Flame on," he barked.

His paws lit up, but as Johnny tried to take off, to fly, nothing else happened.

Correction. Nothing else happened except for the carpet catching fire.

Barking some more, Johnny leapt around, still trying to fly. All he did, though, was spread the fire. It followed his paws, lighting the carpet on fire everywhere they landed.

And now, Peter was the one freaking out, yelling as he ran for the bathroom.

All of a sudden, Johnny found himself covered in white foam. Peter stood over him with a fire extinguisher in hand.

"Oh my fuck," Roommate said from the doorway.

"Harry!" Peter said, his voice frantic, and oh yeah, that was Roommate's name!

"The fuck happened?"

"There was… um…" Peter stared at Johnny, who did his best to meet the other man's eyes with the dignity that this moment surely deserved. After all, this was the moment when Peter realized that his dog was actually the Human Torch. "Um… oh shit, your paws! Sunny!"

"So you did name the dog!" Harry said, strangely triumphant.

"What? Yeah…" Peter answered, grabbing one of Johnny's front paws.

Johnny stared at Peter. At Spider-Man. Who… what? Who somehow… didn't understand what had just happened? He'd yelled "flame on" and everything, lit the freaking carpet on fire, but Peter… didn't… get it…?

"Oh, my life sucks," Johnny sighed.

He finally tuned back in to realize that Peter was still examining his paws, confusion marked all over his face.

"What's up, Pete?" Harry said.

"His paws…" Peter murmured. "They didn't get burned?"

"That a question or a statement?"

Peter put Johnny's paws back down and slowly reached up to scratch behind Johnny's ear, his expression turning thoughtful. "Both. I saw the fire… Sunny was jumping all over it… So how are his paws not burned?"

"His? You named a male dog Sunny?" Harry said, and Johnny felt the sudden urge to keep calling him Roommate.

"Check your masculinity, dude," Peter muttered. Then he directed his gaze to Johnny. "How'd this happen?"

And that, Johnny decided, was a question they both wanted answered. Best he could figure, being a dog hadn't taken away his powers, not when they were as big a part of him as they were, but he had lost control of them. They'd gotten lucky tonight, with Peter being right there with a fire extinguisher. Next time they may not be… so Johnny had to make sure that there wouldn't be. No more flaming on, he vowed.

Johnny did his best to smile at Peter, to reassure him. No more fire. But Johnny did need to find a way to tell him that he was actually the Human Torch.

Instead, Johnny's dog instincts made him lick Peter's face.

Oops.


Johnny woke up to Peter freaking out over the news. (On Peter's bed. If he wasn't a dog, this definitely would've been the highlight of his week.)

Then he caught sight of the headline, and well… no one could ever call Johnny Storm undramatic.

JOHNNY STORM MISSING: THE FF HAVE LOST THEIR TORCH FOR JUSTICE

"How long?" Peter said, and Johnny finally realized that beyond having his laptop out with the news playing, Peter was also talking on the phone to… someone. Johnny didn't know. His hearing had improved, but not that much. "Okay… well, that's not too bad yet, right?"

Johnny nosed at Peter's hand and then licked it. Comforting his best friend (who was also his crush) about his best friend being missing (who was actually him, the dog, aka right there and not actually missing) may have been the weirdest thing he'd ever done, but that didn't mean he wouldn't at least try.

"Okay, Sue, thanks for letting me know…"

Sue? Johnny stopped licking Peter's hand and stared up at him instead, imploring Peter to say something, or even to put his sister on speaker phone.

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out, definitely! And you know Johnny, Sue… he'll turn up eventually. It's not like he's dead, right?"

If Johnny had hands, he would have face-palmed.

"Oh, shit," Peter muttered to himself. "I'm an idiot. Sue, I'm sorry. I… look, he's not dead, okay? And we'll find him. I promise… Yeah… Yeah, you, too. I'll see you."

Peter finally put the phone down and then looked at his laptop. Johnny whined and nudged at the picture of himself that headlined the Daily Bugle's site.

"You know him, too, huh?" Peter mumbled, his hand scratching behind Johnny's ear.

Johnny whined and pushed at it again with his nose.

"Trust me, Peter," he said, but the words only came out as more whining.

"I just… I need him to be safe, you know?" Peter mumbled. Johnny shoved his face into Peter's shoulder. "Oh, um, dog food. Yeah. You've gotta be hungry, huh? Lemme just… oh, um. And Harry left already. So you don't have to see him again. At least not today. He said you didn't seem to like him very much. And I already emailed my professors, said the family emergency is still ongoing and I'll email them when I'm coming back to class. Not that you care. I'm just rambling to my hungry dog… Damn."

All Johnny could think to do was lick Peter's face. Using his bulk, he slowly managed to lever Peter back down so he was laying on his bed again instead of sitting up. Then he curled up half on, half off of Peter's chest. Nosing at Peter's chin, Johnny slowly fell asleep. (Again. Was this a dog thing or what?)


Johnny really had to stop doing this, he reflected as he woke up. (Seriously, he needed to look this up once he was human again: sleeping, how much of it was a dog thing, and how much of it was a I'm-actually-a-human-who-got-turned-into-a-dog thing?)

What Johnny wasn't counting on was Peter.

"How could you?!" Peter screamed, scrambling out from under Johnny. He almost thought he had somehow turned back to human, but one look confirmed otherwise. "It's two o'clock! I've lost six hours that I could have used to search for my best friend! All because I got caught up with taking care of you!"

Wait… what? Johnny tilted his head as he watched Peter rush around the room and… throw on his Spider-Man uniform? Suddenly part of their earlier conversation clicked. Peter wasn't skipping class to take care of dog-Johnny. He was skipping to go look for human-Johnny, who he didn't know was actually a dog in his own bed.

Johnny hated his life.

Lowering his head to the blankets, Johnny lifted his eyes to meet Peter's and then whined as loud as he could, trying to somehow convey how sorry he was for messing up.

Peter, miraculously, stopped and stared at Johnny. Then he sighed and carefully laid back down on the bed, reaching over to scratch along Johnny's back.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, his voice low and soft. Genuine. "I'm just worried about him, you know? I…" Peter stared at his hands, and then looked up to meet Johnny's eyes, his mouth thin with determination. "I love him."

Something sparked up Johnny's spine with those words, and even as a dog, he could feel his cheeks heating up. Thank goodness for fur.

"You get that, right?" Peter continued. "I just… I don't think I can tell him. He doesn't know my secret identity, and even if he did, why would he ever love me? He's got… fans. Girl fans. I think I even saw him with an entourage once. And… and why am I telling you? I gotta go, Sunny. C'mon, I need to let you pee, and then I'll put you back in here with food, okay?"

They almost made it out the door before Peter ground to halt.

"Shit," Peter said, staring at Johnny. "Shit, I'm dressed as Spider-Man. Lemme just… lemme just throw something on, yeah?"


Johnny's plan, in theory, was simple. Key words: "in theory".

Peter seemed fairly determined to not give Johnny any leeway in the apartment because "Harry's already upset enough." (Personally, Johnny thought Peter should have dumped the Harry Roommate. Dumped Harry and married dated Johnny instead.) This meant that instead of giving Johnny free reign of the already small apartment, Peter locked Johnny in his own bedroom with dog food (gross), water (less gross, but Johnny the Human Torch's personal nemesis now that Peter had turned out to be Johnny's one true love), and a slightly open window (because Johnny barked every time Peter tried to shut it. perks of being a dog).

The second Johnny was sure that Spider-Man was long gone, he nudged the window all the way open with his nose. He may not have had opposable thumbs anymore, but that didn't mean he was hopeless.

Step one of Johnny's plan: Get back to the Baxter Building. Peter was, evidently, even more of a dunce than he'd originally suspected if he still hadn't figured things out after Johnny literally set the carpet on fire. So yeah… Johnny was going to fix this himself.

Step two: Somehow manage to convince at least one member of his family that Sunny the dog was really Johnny the Human Torch. Hopefully, in their case, lighting himself on fire would do the trick.

Step three: Profusely apologize for all the trouble he caused and win back the public's favor. Shouldn't be too hard.

Step four: The end… Psych. Confess his undying love to Peter. Hopefully. As long as he didn't chicken out first.

As soon as he was back on the ground, Johnny moved toward the corner of the street. Craning his head upwards, he could just make out the street-signs that told him he was at the corner of 6th and W 8th. Greenwich Village, then. And the Baxter Building stood on the corner of Madison and 42nd. At his top flying speed, Johnny could make it between the two locations in about five minutes, probably less if he really pushed it.

Only problem was, he would have to walk it.

Sighing, Johnny turned and started walking up the street. He didn't even get ten feet before he spotted Peter's roommate. At first Harry's gaze just went over him, but then Johnny watched as realization made its way over Harry's face.

"Sunny?" Harry said, and Johnny darted down the next alleyway. "Sunny?! Hey! Come back!"

No chance, Johnny thought. His whole plan relied on him actually getting to the Baxter Building. If Harry caught him, it'd be game over before it ever really began.

Left, right, another right, Johnny weaved his way through the streets until he could be absolutely certain that he had lost Harry. He ended up closer to New York University than he was to Empire State, but that wouldn't make any difference in the long run. The two colleges were already fairly close together, and he would have had to go that way in the end anyway. It wasn't exactly a straight shot from ESU to the Baxter Building. His run from Harry had made that shot even more crooked.

Johnny continued to walk until his paws ached and the sun was so high in the sky even Johnny felt overheated in his fur. He did his best to keep an eye out for street signs, but every now and then he would take a couple wrong turns and start walking back to Peter's apartment. There was something to be said for dedication, he figured, but he wished his dog-self would reassign the label of "home" to the Baxter Building so he could actually get there. Instead, "home" seemed to be a person rather than a place, and that person was Peter. It certainly made for an interesting walk.

A young kid spotted him and began to totter his way, only to be caught by a woman. She looked at Johnny with fear in her eyes as she carried her kid away. Johnny watched her approach another woman and link hands with her. A small flame of delight curdled in his chest, the same one that he got every time he spotted a queer couple out in public. There was something to be said for representation, even if it was local. He tried not to think about how local it would be for him and Peter to date, and instead focused on the fear that had been in the woman's eyes.

He was a dog. A dog without a human, leash, or collar, yeah, but still a dog. How dirty or mangy did he have to be to garner a look like that?

It didn't take him long to figure that out. He took another turn, finally ending up on 34th. Eight more blocks and he would be home (the official home, not the person home).

Then he spotted a dark van creeping up behind him. It crawled to a stop and then two people, one man and one woman, exited the back. Another man stayed behind the wheel, eyes locked on… Johnny looked around. Yep. Definitely him.

Johnny couldn't think of anything he could do but run.

So he ran.

He took a sharp turn into a small alley and automatically darted into the street beyond. Cars screeched to a halt mere feet from him, but the two people following him didn't hesitate, either.

Johnny tried to stay in the relative vicinity of where the chase had begun, but it was hard to do mid-chase. He had also run in the opposite direction of the Baxter Building, and his pursuers didn't make it easy to change directions. Whenever he approached another street corner with the intention of running back to the BB, the van was there. Any attempts to race into another alley were cut off by the people running after him. Somehow, they had made it so that the only direction Johnny could run was back toward Empire State University and Peter's apartment.

Finally, Johnny just ran as fast as he could on the straightaway of 1st Avenue. At some point he passed the Bellevue Hospital Center, and soon after he crossed the road at 23rd. He slowed to a stop and took a look around. Johnny couldn't see any of the people who had been chasing him, but that didn't mean they weren't there. All Johnny could really do was hope he could reach relative safety before they made their next move. Unfortunately for Johnny, that meant that going back to Peter's was his best bet.

It had taken him several hours just to get up to 34th thanks to his instincts that pulled him back in the direction of Peter's apartment. It had taken him thirty minutes at best to make it back to 23rd. Even using street signs, it would take him too long to get to the Baxter Building.

Maybe he could just flame on all the way, Johnny thought. Or spell out his kibble to make a message. Anything that would catch Peter's attention. Because at this point, Peter was Johnny's only hope.


Johnny turned the last corner so that he finally stood in view of Peter's apartment building. The bandages around his feet had fallen off a while ago, although Johnny would be hard-pressed to say exactly when. Now, his paws ached even more than they had before, and he would bet close to five hundred bucks that he had had a stone stuck between his toes since Park and 21st. Every time he looked behind him, he saw a trail of bloody pawprints that he had left behind. He'd been limping since halfway between 16th and 15th.

He was so far past the ready-to-collapse point that he would give anything just for a little rest. But he couldn't. Not when those people could still be chasing him.

Johnny almost whimpered as he took another step, slowly gaining ground on Peter's apartment building. Dawn was approaching even faster, the sun beginning to dip its toes into the shadows of New York City. Johnny began his walk past the same alley he had used to escape from Harry earlier.

Home was so close he could literally taste it, spandex and take-out and Peter coating his tongue.

Everything moved so fast it was quite literally a blur. The net, Johnny's paws swept out from under him, the chloroform shoved against his nose. Johnny only had time for one startled bark before he passed out, the same people who had been chasing him looming over him.


The first thing Johnny did once he woke up was smell. Instead of opening his eyes and alerting his captors that he was awake, Johnny twitched his nose and did his best to identify every smell that he could.

Dog was the most prominent, although blood was a close second, with human not far behind that. He could smell metal, too, likely steel although he couldn't be certain of that without opening his eyes first.

The smells suggested that he could be at the pound, maybe a veterinary practice if he was lucky. Instinct told him he wouldn't be that lucky.

Listening, Johnny almost tried to cover his ears when the true cacophony of the place invaded his ears. That would alert his captors, though, and Johnny still needed to see if anything useful could be gained information-wise by ears instead of smell.

First, he needed to shut out all of the dogs barking. Though a dog himself, Johnny couldn't understand anything that they were saying. Dog body and instincts, but a human brain? It was certainly possible.

"-wanted a full-grown dog, not this half-grown mess!"

"We never got a good look at him; we did our best, boss."

"Best would have meant delivering what I asked for. Look at him. He won't last a full minute in the ring with those paws."

Johnny's whole body tensed in an effort to keep his panicked barks from erupting. The ring? Add in the dogs, the blood, the metal (cages?)… they were talking about a dog-fighting ring, right there in the Big Apple.

"He's totally worthless… do you think people will do anything but bet against him? Not to mention the food to feed him. We can't do jack shit with him."

"We could just shoot 'im, boss."

Johnny pressed his belly to the floor, panic filling him from nose to tail. He could feel bars beneath him. Definitely a cage. And they wanted to kill him.

"… no. You just spent half a day tracking the dirty mutt all the way across New York City. That's resources we can't get back. We should at least get a bit back from him."

"Yes, sir, boss, sir."

"Get him ready for the ring. Hose him down, make him somewhat presentable. You mistook him for a full-grown, battle ready dog. Maybe our betters will do the same."

"Yes, boss."

Their voices faded out, and Johnny cautiously opened his eyes. Keeping himself pressed to the bottom of his cage, Johnny peered out into the room. It was small, with cracked and broken hardwood floors. Cages lined all four walls, stacked all the way to the ceiling. Doing some quick calculations, Johnny figured that there were at least a hundred dogs in the room, all crammed into cages too small for them. Johnny himself could barely move, just managing to fit his nose into the front right corner so that it didn't stick out of his cage. He spotted half a dozen other dogs who were too big even for that.

A dog fighting ring. Johnny suddenly found himself wishing that he had just stayed in Peter's room.

A door on the far right clanged open, and Johnny somehow managed to shrink even further into his own fur. Maybe as the Human Torch he could have handled this. Heck, as the Human Torch, he wouldn't have hesitated to save all the dogs and then set the whole building on fire, screw anyone who tried to stop him. But he couldn't do anything as a dog. Not even flame on. Flame on and they may figure out who he was. And then they would never let him leave.

No matter how hard he tried to make himself suddenly get Sue's powers, though, the intruder walked straight up to Johnny's cage, a long chain in hand. Johnny recognized the blonde hair, white skin, sharp cheekbones. He was the driver of the van that had chased Johnny away from the Baxter Building.

"Hey, Attilius*," he said. "Time for a shower."

As harmless as the words may have first appeared, Johnny shivered. The man's voice was harsh, cutting through the air as easily as a sword through skin. If there was a voice directly opposite Peter's cooing one, it had to be this one.

Johnny tried to back into the far side of his bars as the man opened the cage door.

The other blonde scowled. "C'mon, mutt. You already put me through enough today. Don't make me do something I'll regret."

All Johnny could do was bare his teeth. He doubted he came across as threatening, but he would do anything to stop whatever was about to happen… even try and make a yellow lab appear threatening.

"Alright, then." Strong hands reached into Johnny's cage, the chain gripped and ready to… to what?

As soon as the hands were within striking distance, Johnny shot forward and snapped at them. He connected, his teeth sinking in to the bone and drawing blood. Johnny snarled and shook his head back and forth.

If Johnny snarled, the man roared. Not with pain, like Johnny would have hoped, but with anger. The other hand, the one Johnny wasn't connected to, snatched at Johnny's scruff and dragged him out of the relative safety of the cage. Johnny hit the floor, thrown there as the man continued to loom over him, and then scrambled to his paws.

He didn't even make it five feet.

The chain wrapped around Johnny's throat and hauled him in the opposite direction, Johnny choking as the links bit through his neck fluff and targeted his sensitive skin. The man marched them to a small, rusted door on the other side of the room, dragging Johnny behind him. Johnny could do nothing but let himself be pulled across the dirty floor.

The man flung the door open and Johnny stared inside at what looked like a poor imitation of a shower. And then he got shoved inside. The man slipped back out, and that was when the water started.

It was cold, freezing. Johnny curled himself into a tight ball in the corner, as far away from the stream as he could get, but there was no escaping it. It pounded at his already bruised body, thrumming in a rhythm that Johnny could only call pain.

When the water finally stopped, Johnny stayed in his corner. He was completely soaked through, his fur plastered to his body, and he would bet that it was only thanks to his higher body temp that he wasn't shivering.

The door opened again to reveal the same man from before, this time with a bandage wrapped around one hand. Johnny would've felt a lot more triumphant if he wasn't curled into a corner with his whole body aching.

"Let's go," the man said, his voice still as gruff as before, if not angrier.

Johnny followed without comment, his tail tucked between his legs. He would do anything to avoid the feeling of the chain again. Even if it meant utter obedience.


They left Johnny locked in his cage for an unknown amount of time. The dogs around him, for once, were utterly silent… perhaps they sensed a fight coming, Johnny thought. It would make sense to put the loudest dogs into the ring, so to avoid fighting… be silent.

Johnny wished his problem could be solved so easily, but he knew that he had already been selected for the next fight. Now he could only hope to survive it.

Not for the first time since the shower, Johnny's thoughts wandered back to Spider-Man… Peter had said that he loved him, but what would he think about Johnny now? Locked in a cage, able to do nothing but wait for rescue. He couldn't be the person that Peter had spoken of. There was no way.


One of the doors opened after Johnny's fur finished drying. The woman stepped through this time, her eyes cold as she walked in his direction. She held the same chain from before in her hands, the metal clinking together as it swayed.

When she opened the cage door and stepped back, Johnny darted from the cage and shot straight into another corner of the room. He knew what would happen if he stayed in the cage, but that didn't mean he wanted to stay out in the open, vulnerable on every side. A corner would always make a better defense.

It didn't matter.

The woman still managed to get the chain around his neck, still dragged him through yet another door and shoved him inside. The chain fell to the ground behind him, loose now that it wasn't being held. Johnny wasn't in a room, though. He stood in a short tunnel, light coming from the other end along with screaming people.

"And now!" someone announced, their voice sounding louder than everyone else's. "The newcomer, just picked up off the streets today! Named for the gladiator! Attilius!"

The floor buzzed hot under his paws, electricity sparking into his pads. Johnny shot forward.

He emerged in an arena with another dog, a German shepherd from the looks of it. Skinny and mangy, but with lean muscle poking out with their ribs, the other dog looked old and mean. Old, mean, and with far more experience than Johnny had at dog fighting.

"Place your bets now!" the announcer was saying, their voice already grating on Johnny's ears. "Sarge, the experienced, or Attilius, the strong, named for a gladiator that defied these very odds!"

The seconds passed slowly, and Johnny prowled around the ring, matching the other dog step for step. Halfway around the ring, Sarge switched directions, and Johnny switched with him.

"Bets have been placed! Dogs, your places!"

The arena erupted into laughter, as if it was funny that they were forcing animals that shouldn't understand them to fight.

Johnny stopped his pacing and growled low in his throat, his legs braced. He didn't want to fight a dog, but if it came down to survival, he knew he wouldn't have a choice.

The buzzer sounded.

Johnny wasn't entirely sure what happened next. He was used to fights, he had to be as a superhero, but never fights like this. It all ended up as a blur, of both dogs exchanging blows and bites and snarling at each other with all their teeth. It was all a blur, except for the last few minutes.

Johnny staggered on his paws, his legs barely holding him up now. Blood flattened his fur in clumps from where Sarge's claws had scored down his side, and several of the scrapes on his paws had broken open again, leaving more bloody pawprints around the arena. Groans echoed from several dozen spectators as they likely realized that Johnny was fighting a fight he couldn't win.

Sarge knocked him to the ground with one large paw, a snarl pulling at his lips. Johnny couldn't believe he had ever thought the other dog to be mangy and old. The lean muscle seemingly bulked Sarge up as he towered over Johnny, ready to finish the fight.

Sarge's jaws came down, teeth sharp.

The buzzer sounded again, even before Sarge made contact with Johnny's throat.

Johnny flamed on.

Everyone in the arena screamed, the announcer fumbling with his words even as Sarge backed away. The flames that Johnny put off never even touched the other dog, but it looked like fire was an enemy Sarge was well familiar with.

Johnny ran for the edge of the arena, where wooden boards kept the dogs locked inside. It didn't take long for them to catch fire. It took even less time for the flames to spread, going from board to board to board and then lighting the seats on fire, making the arena look like hell. He watched as Sarge sprinted for the now-open gate that he had come through, making a jump through flames into the other room. The spectators fled.

And Johnny stood, alone, in the center of the arena. In the center of flames. The Ring of Fire,** Johnny supposed.

Of course, now was when Spider-Man decided to show up. Peter, for once, didn't bother with a showy entrance. Probably because Johnny had already scared all the bad guys away? Whatever the reason, he swooped down and landed in front of Johnny, who had since flamed off.

Peter fell to his knees in front of Johnny, and Johnny didn't hesitate to run straight into Peter's arms, tail wagging the whole time. Peter wrapped his arms around him, hands scratching at Johnny's side, his head, his ears.

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered, hugging Johnny. "I should have… when Harry called… I just… Johnny… I'm so sorry, Sunny."


AN:

* Thanks to ancienthistorylists for the name Attilius. I honestly didn't think I would find a name that would fit as well as this one, but Marcus Attilius actually entered his first gladiator fight against an experienced gladiator, much like Johnny versus Sarge. Like with Johnny, Marcus Attilius won that first fight against all odds. I found it fitting, and for anyone who knew who the gladiator was, a bit foreshadowing.

** What? Johnny Cash? Why not?

Again, the wonderful meereswiederkaeuer and hazirart created absolutely incredible art for this fic! Don't forget to visit their blogs and give them all the love!