Authors note:

Wow. Thanks for the reviews guys. That's the most I've ever had. ) And just as a warning, I'm making this plot up as I go, I just needed to write something. p So, there very well may be some plot holes. And for that I apologise, feel free to email me at if you would like to discuss anything, also, e-mail me if I don't update often enough. p

Hopefully you will enjoy the fic despite the small problems with it, but I'll do my best. Anyways, enough of my jabbering. On with the story!

Everything burns

Chapter 3

"Oh my god, is he okay?"
"I dunno, look at that bloody hole in his chest!"

"Is that, is that The Human Torch!"

"It is!"
"I hope he's okay!"

Johnny's eyes fluttered open, optics adjusted to the darkness around him, partly caused by nausea and pain. The increasing crowd of gatherers gasped as he came back to consciousness. Part of him registered that the worse of the storm had returned, and it had started bucketing down again.

Fucking storm, Johnny found himself absently thought.

One of the braver people in the crowd, presumably, stepped forward and offered Johnny his hand. Johnny smiled slightly, pained but a smile none-the-less. He took the offer gladly, and the combined effort got Johnny leant against the wall of McDonalds, not the best place to be 'attacked', admittedly.

"Thanks," Johnny said in a croaky voice, glancing down at his chest with a grimace. The black top he had been wearing was in shreds, particularly around the centre of his chest.

A circular gash was imprinted into his flesh, blood – but not as much as you might've thought – had already seeped out. Johnny also noted that some of the flesh, and his shirt, was charred. My good shirt, damnit!

Although, his obvious resistance to fire and all things hot had saved him from the worse of the attack.

Attack? Why the hell would Chris attack him?

And then he remembered.

"Chris!" Johnny said aloud.

The man that had helped Johnny up looked at him quizzically. "Dude, are you okay?"
Johnny didn't register his voice, his – oh so quick – mind had already began formulating a plan to find Chris. A complex and extremely difficult plan. Hardly.

Johnny was going to go back to the apartment. (Despite the fact that the Fantastic Fucking Three would be there) He was going to go to the computer and, of course, locate the signal of his, you guessed it, jacket. What 'superhero' didn't have a signature for a tracking computer to find? Johnny didn't need one on his person at all times, because a simple heat sweep could keep track of the Human Torch. But, for reasons unknown to Johnny, Reed had given him a tracking device. …Johnny kept it in his wallet.

Now to find Chris. Johnny gave the man a small smile and made his way through the crowd, one hand clutching his chest. He'd find Chris whether it killed him. He had his bloody wallet.

Awfully quick to find him, aren't you? A small voice in Johnny's head whispered. The little shit nearly killed you.

Johnny shook his head, ridding himself of the voice. He had to find Chris.

Why?
He had no idea.

Did he care about him?

No, impossible.

Right?

Hell, he was going to his former apartment just to find him. If that's not dedication, I don't know what is.

Johnny smirked.

Authors note:

Sorry that my chapters are a little short, but I usually write them in the evening. And I'm bloody tired now, so I'm gonna leave it there until tomorrow. Enjoy.