I'm sorry if that last chapter was a bit weird, I promise everything will be straightened out in the next chapter, which includes Roger moving in with the Fantastic 4 and stuff like that. I know a lot of you aren't thrilled that Roger is keeping his past from Johnny and everybody, but it's part of the essential storyline and it will be sorted out by the end, so please be patient!

Johnny

I snapped my fingers and watched in awe as a small flame shot up. As kids, Roger and I had enjoyed setting fire to things. Only small stuff, like leaves and grass and shit like that, because our parents, and Sue, would spazz if it was anything actually living was torched. We always thought that was funny, because grass and plants are living things, too. They do, after all, have all the characteristics of life. They grow and reproduce and all that other shit our science teacher talked about in freshman year.

I snapped twice and the flame died out before bursting up again. I smiled contently, watching it flicker and dance before my eyes. I'd always been fascinated with fire, as well as Roger, but he always seemed to have an easier time getting the match to burn, or getting the magnifying glass at just the right angle. While Roger could easily burn hole after hole in dead leaves with just a magnifying glass (he'd won the 'Pyro Award' back in eighth grade when the teacher taught us how to use magnifying glasses to burn stuff. He'd burnt his name in the leaf while others could barely manage holes. He was school famous for weeks), I could barely set flame to toilet paper doused in lighter fluid. I could only watch impatiently as Roger did all the flame work. Fire had never seemed to work for me.

I snapped my finger once more and the flame extinguished. A lot had changed since my 'fire-impaired' days. I was the fire. Well, kind of. Didn't some old guy in ancient Rome or Greece or something say 'Be one with something'? Ah, I don't know, I was never good at history. Too many dates to memorize. Even wars with those cool pictures of dead people all over the place bleeding their guts out were dampened by the boring, drawling voice of the teacher and the endless pages of notes.

I sighed and rolled over on my bed, getting restless. I didn't like being locked up in this stupid penthouse. It was like trying to keep Reed from doing his science junk- not that it shouldn't happen, it couldn't happen. Well, it couldn't unless some outside force stopped it, like one of those Newton Laws. 'An object in motion will stay in motion unless stopped by some outside force'. Something like that.

Why did the old days with Roger keep coming up in my head? What was it about middle school and high school that seemed to be leering over me today?

"Ah, it's probably just a coincidence," I reassured myself, getting up and making my way to the kitchen.

I watched, confused, as Sue paced the kitchen, wringing her hands and mumbled nonsense under her breath.

"Hey Sue," I said, sitting down and watching her, "What's all the mumbo-jumbo, voodoo chanting about?"

She looked up from the floor and glared at me. "Nothing's wrong, Johnny."

"Of course," I said, giving her a skeptical look.

She sighed and sat down next to me. "I hate you, Johnny, I really do."

"What did I do this time?" I asked, annoyed.

She looked at me with curious eyes. "You're just…you. You wouldn't get it unless you were someone else looking after you."

"What are the little voices inside your head telling you this time, Susie?" I asked, smirking.

"Johnny!"

I hopped up and ran to my room. However, the knob wouldn't turn and I ran smack into the door.

"Ow," I mumbled, rubbing my head and glaring at my door, "What the hell was that all about?"

Sue bent down to help me and I watched with disgust as Reed exited my room.

"Sorry about that," he said, "I'm just installing a sprinkler system in all the rooms, incase you go haywire. Not to say you will, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

I glared up at Reed. "Go stick your head up your ass," I mumbled before getting up and walking away.

However, a hand on the collar of my shirt stopped me. "Johnny,"

I turned around. It was Reed.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"Just to talk," he said, "Before Roger comes and you're too cocky and arrogant to even listen to me anymore."

"Well, talk then," I said.

Reed opened his mouth to start, but the elevator clanked open instead.

"Hey hot head!" Ben grunted, "I picked up pretty boy here for ya!"

I turned and looked down the hall at a grumpy looked Ben, though that's how he always seemed to look, and a cheerful but subtly unsettled Roger.

"Ah, I'm feeling the cockiness and arrogance settling in," I said, closing my eyes and smirking, "They're coming off of Roger and seeping into my skin. Soon I will be too cocky and too arrogant to talk. It's reaching the core. It can't be much longer. Ding, ding, ding! There we are! Oh well Reed, a bit too late!"

Reed looked at me, appalled, as I went to help Roger with his stuff, which wasn't much.

"You still play guitar?" I asked, noticing the instrumental shape of one of his bags.

Roger grinned and nodded. "When have I not played guitar?"

"You have a point."

"When do I not?"

"The dangerously high amount of self-absorbance is killing me," Reed said, gagging.

"If you're going to puke, don't do it on me!" Roger squealed girly, giving us the response we'd been hoping for.

"What have I done?" Reed groaned.