There are a few things I need to say about this story. One: for the record, Roger has already gone to Santa Fe and Mimi already had her near-death experience. However, the Fantastic 4 have just been found out by the press because of what happened at the bridge. So none of the stuff in the movie after that happens, unless I put it in. Two: After a few chapters, if not that many people are reading this, I'll put it in the Fantastic 4 page, not RENT. So if you're looking for it under RENT and it's not there, check Fantastic 4. Enjoy!

Johnny

I sighed and ducked through the crowds towards the Baxter Building, hot on the heels of Ben. We'd gone out only to get some groceries (which he was carrying), but we ended up being mobbed by 'fans'. Not that I didn't like the attention, but Ben had been a real ass at the store and it put me in a sour mood.

"Johnny, you're so handsome!" I heard one girl coo.

"Johnny I love you!" another called out.

I heard more feminine voices shout wild things like that, but one really caught my attention.

"Johnny, wait!" a masculine voice shouted, cutting through the higher voices like a knife.

I groaned and picked up the pace. Guys? I wasn't into guys!

I continued walking on, trying to lose the voice.

"Johnny, wait up!" it called again, but I chose to ignore it and the slight pitch of desperation coming from it.

I quickened my pace, keeping an eye on Ben as he pushed his way through the people.

"God damn it Typh," the voice said again roughly, "Why can't you ever listen to me?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Typh? Childhood memories rushed at me as I recalled the last, and only, person who'd ever used that nickname on me. It was short for typhoon, because I was nothing short of one in energy and chaos. But the only person who ever called me that was…

"Roger?" I questioned, turning around slowly.

A man my age with a familiar smirk and even more familiar green eyes stared at me. "About time." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

I smiled widely. It was Roger alright; his attitude hadn't changed a bit.

"Well, well, well," I said, walking up to him with my chest jutted out cockily, my bad mood disappearing, "If it isn't Roger Davis, a.k.a. Cyclone, a.k.a. Cyc, my childhood twin and best friend."

"Is there any other?" Roger asked, that same, dangerous smirk on his face.

My lips formed into a mirroring smirk and I stalked over to him and gave him a friendly side-hug (hey, I had to protect my reputation! Johnny Storm dug girls, not guys). "How's it going Cyc?"

"I should be asking you the same question Mr. Human Torch." Roger said.

Human Torch? That was pretty catchy actually. I figured I'd use it as my 'hero' name if Reed ever let me out of the house again.

"Eh, no complaints," I said casually, shrugging a bit.

Roger laughed as a throng of fan girls ran towards me. "I can see that," he said, obviously growing nervous as they grew closer.

"Come on," I mumbled, "Let's get out of here before we're killed and they sell our body parts on Ebay."

Roger nodded and I grabbed his wrist harshly and I could see him wince.

"You got a fever, Flame?" he questioned as I pulled him straight through the crowd towards the Baxter Building, my eyes scanning the crowd for Ben, who had disappeared out of sight.

"Yes and no," I answered, maneuvering my way through the crowd and trying to focus on cooling myself down as to not severely burn my cousin.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roger angrily, biting his lip as my temperature rose along with my temper.

"Just give me a minute to explain!" I snapped, my mind trying to comprehend the next move I was going to make as the shortest and seemingly only escape to the Baxter Building closed.

Roger looked at me oddly, but remained silent.

I dragged Roger around for a while so it seemed like I knew what I was doing, but I ended up getting terribly lost. I hesitated for a moment, taking in the new surroundings of what I thought was the Lower East Village.

"So where's the Baxter Building?" he asked cockily.

"Up your ass." I replied without missing a beat.

"How mature of you," he mumbled, "Admit it Typh, you're lost."

"Am not!" I snapped.

"You are," Roger said, "I should know. Now listen, I know exactly how to get from here to the Baxter Building. I'll help you out if you let go of my fucking arm!"

I dropped Roger's hand like it was infected with a deadly virus and he instantly brought it to his chest and hugged it tightly, probably to stop the pain. I bit my lip when I saw the handprint-shaped burn on his skin.

"Sorry about that," I said softly.

"It's fine," Roger said, "Now come on!"

With that he grabbed my arm, the leather protecting his hand, and whisked me along various streets and through alleys until we finally reached the Baxter Building.

I smiled, relieved that I was finally out of that mess, but it was quickly replaced by a frown. I groaned, remembering that I wasn't even supposed to be out of the house and as soon as I returned I'd be inmate number four again.

"Welcome to hell," I grumbled before leading Roger inside.