Darkfire Chapter 5: Reclusion, a fantastic 4 fanfic

Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T for Violence, Language, Graphic content... All that good stuff.

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure. In that order.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't ours. If you don't, total legal-glomp.

Summary: AU. To go back in time and change the past, in order to save the future. This is the mission of one Johnny Storm. However, his family doesn't understand this new, ruthless, darker Johnny. None have them have ever seen this side before... except Sue.

Jackie: Delayed more then should ever be humanly possible;

Sarah: With my deepest and most whole-hearted apologies;

Jackie: We give you double the daily recommended dosage of...

Sarah: DARKFIRE!!

Chapter Five

There's an art in seclusion; production in depression.
If a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession.
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands.
Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands.

You're suffocating me, so very hard to breathe.
My mask is growing heavy, but I've forgotten who's beneath.

-Anberlin, Reclusion

Still with about five or so hours left on his hands, Johnny walked over to the blackboards Reed had been frantically scribbling on a few hours ago. They were covered with notes and lists of possibilities of what he thought Doom could be up too. There was, in fact, more yellow then green covering both sides of the pair of blackboards, and it covered such a wide range of topics that Johnny was momentarily stunned.

Eventually, however, the notes came to one ineffable conclusion: Doom was creating (or had created) a biochemical weapon.

He could easily see the man's thought process from there. Why did he have it? What was it to be used on? Was Doom going to attack another country, or was he planning on using it for defense against something? (It was an unlikely possibility due to the method he had been acquiring workers in, but still something to be looked at.)

There was a brief list of what apparently Reed speculated Doom's motivations were. Power and revenge were each circled twice, and then in the clearest section of the second blackboard, where the man had been working just before Johnny put him to sleep, he had chalked up one last note. Reed had decided that Doom was going to use the weapon to hold a country, presumably the US, for ransom in order to get to the Fantastic Four.

The man had put his keen and penetrating mind to the task and, unfortunately, come to the wrong conclusion. Doom was not going to use a roundabout way to get to them. He was going to bypass that route entirely and go straight for the superheroes, and in the world's weakened state, grasp a stranglehold.

It was the perfect plan, with only one counter.

Doom had initially decided to use the Fantastic Four as 'test subjects' to discover the effectiveness of his toxin. Currently, the only people actually infected were himself and Ben. If Johnny could stop this dead in its tracks, none of the others would have been poisoned and the world's major protection would remain intact. With everyone else safe, he would be free to go after Doom himself and finish the job that had been started five years ago, in his timeline.

But firstly, he had to cure Ben.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. With that he reached up and pressed his finger to the space right in front of his throat.

The PCD came out of 'sleep mode,' dropped its translucency, and in a moment Cree flickered into view in front of him. "What do you need, Johnny?" The hologram asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling faintly at him.

"Cree, I need that formula now." He replied evenly, walking over to the cabinet wherein Reed stored his chemicals and opening the doors. It was very helpful that at this point in time, Mr. Fantastic was fantastically absent-minded; immediately assuming when he lost an object or his stores ran down, he had simply used and forgot about it.

If that was the case, Reed was going to be doing a lot of 'forgetting' in the near future.

Over the next several hours Johnny had the hologram repeatedly go over the first tenth of the formula for the antidote- what he had really gone to Latveria for. He'd spent a week there working with the imprisoned scientists in order to learn exactly how to make the antidote, in what dose to give it, and most importantly, how to administer it.

The men and women there had been so kind to him; never doing as he had first suspected and begging him to set them free. They seemed to know already that it was impossible in current times and went about their work with sad smiles. Several of them had asked him to pass on messages to their friends and family, which Johnny had of course agreed to.

But other than that, they had asked nothing from him, expected nothing from him, and merely wanted to help save the world from the atrocities they had created. And even if he had not already had the lives of his friends and family as a motivation, he would have done it for them.

The world had turned upside down when Doom had discovered him, though. Every single scientist there had been slaughtered, proof of how twisted he had been even this early. Johnny had tried to play down his abilities, but even so he was lucky to escape at all, let alone escape with his life. Sue had been right to worry…not that he would ever tell her that.

Anyhow.

By the time the sun was sleepily poking its head above the horizon, Johnny had almost finished the first step in making the antidote. It was horrendously complicated even with the formula and instructions – but then again, it had to be so. Otherwise, the super-geniuses would have been able to come up with a counter to it years ago.

Reed had once compared it to trying to open a locked door when not only did you not have the key, but you had a hundred million doors to choose from, and each lock on each door was configured in an entirely different way.

To quote a friend, whatta revoltin' development.

Doom's scientists had pointed out the correct door and given him outline of a key. Now, all he had to do was make it.

Unfortunately, the analogy of the lock and key did not work so well once you consider that the lock analyzed each and every key attempted for a long list of specific qualifications and if even one was off by a fraction of a decimal, the door would self-destruct.

Again, it was horrendously complicated.

However, as Johnny stretched his arms above his head and yawned, he was not concerned with his progress thus far. Creating the correct antidote was not a one-night job, and he had plenty of time before Ben would even begin acting up. Reed and Sue would be waking up soon enough, so he had best clean up and head out.

As he limped out of the lab some time later, Cree suddenly flickered into view. "Do you need anything else now?" She asked in that hauntingly familiar voice.

"No, thanks. I've finished working for tonight." He said quietly.

Cree nodded. "Alright. Then it's time for bed."

Johnny looked up. "What?'

"You heard me. By my records, over the past two weeks you have had less than fifty hours of sleep. That's about three hours a night."

He cocked an eyebrow amusedly. "Really now?"

"I know you've been physically resting for the last few days, but you also have to rest your mind."

Frowning, Johnny shot back, "I don't have to. I'm used to going without sleep for long periods of time."

Cree placed one hand on her hip and gave him a very Sue-like stare. "Well, if you did stay up, what would you do? Go for a walk?"

"…" Johnny blinked. Irritated at her point, he said grudgingly, "I hate-"

Froze. Realized who he was talking to.

"I hate it when you're right." He rephrased dejectedly, shoulders slumping in genuine shame as he thought of what he had been about to say. Johnny limped back to his couch like a puppy with its tail between its legs, crawled under the covers, and dutifully went to sleep.

There was a low, constant sound in the background, a primitive noise of despair. A child's cries.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Benjamin Jacob Grimm…"

"Baby, you can't leave me. Not now. I'm not strong enough. Please, hold on, just a little bit longer. Please, PLEASE! I'm begging you! Hold on... please…"

"H-How're we supposed to live now? What do we do?" A desperate voice whimpered.

He looked up to the sky. It was sunny. Why was it sunny? No one, not even the sky, should ever be happy. Not today. No one could ever be happy again. Not now. Not ever.

"We keep on going. Keep on living, keep on surviving. We fight the good fight, because that's just what we have to do. And we never, ever forget."

"…taken from us before his time…"

A voice of liquid steel, edged with sadistic delight. "How does it feel, Johnny, knowing beyond all doubt that you are the absolute cause of all this devastation? The deaths of your family and friends… and of course, dearest Angel."

Tearing at the restraints. Have to get free. Have to. HAVE TO! "Don't you dare touch her, you sick freak!" He screamed, writhing furiously.

The baby hiccupped and sobbed, flailing its tiny limbs helplessly.

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands."

"SHUT UP! Let her GO!"

"No, I don't think I will…"

"…survived by his wife, sons, and teammates…"

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's almost over. You tell your mother I'm coming."

"I'm scared…"

"Go to sleep now, baby. I love you."

"…died as he lived- a misunderstood hero…"

The sharp cries became despairing wails. Such fear… such fear…

"Stop yelling, Johnny! I-I just hate this!"

"I hate you!"

"… but in his passing he gives his loved ones the knowledge they need to survive."

"Susie, you gotta wake up. Please, wake up… I'm sorry; I didn't mean what I said. I'm so, so sorry…"

"…truly, Ben Grimm will never be forgotten."

"Look at her, Johnny. See the fear in her sweet eyes. And know that this is absolutely all your fault."

The wails turned to the grating screams of one possessed, growing louder and more and more intense until finally, with a sickening 'SNAP!'

It ended.

"NO!!"

Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He tried to wrench away, but something out of sight had a firm grip on his arms and legs. All he could do was stare, unseeing, into the slate gray ceiling of the infirmary, into the eyes of those he had killed.

Tears pooled in his eyes and spilled over, falling in twin streams across his stubbled face. He whispered softly, brokenly, to the empty night, "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to lie…"

Silence.

Johnny opened his eyes and founding himself staring up instead at the stucco-coated ceiling of the Baxter Building's living room. He heard the TV on faintly and felt wary eyes resting on him, but he did not care. He rolled over to face the back of the couch, ignoring his protesting ribs, and buried his face in his pillow. Johnny gritted his teeth so as not to let out a single sound as he wept.

A week passed in similar fashion. When his ankle had mostly healed, he went back to his room and things returned to "normal." Johnny worked on the antidote and alternated testing Reed and Sue nightly, while during the day he would sleep or watch his teammates –just watch them, almost to remind himself that they were there. It was strange…Johnny interacted with them, talked and laughed, even attempted a little witty banter with Ben.

But he still didn't feel connected to them. He wasn't part of their world, and pretending would only hurt him more when he finally had to leave it. Johnny had to stay focused…had to spend his time wisely.

Unfortunately, it was relatively quiet in New York at the moment. There were no major threats to the citizens, no maniacal villains bent on world domination. So that left the Fantastic Four with little to do, except in Reed and Johnny's cases, work in the lab.

Still, this was not enough for the time-traveling hero. As he had told Cree, he was used to going long periods without rest. He was used to surviving on two and a half hours of sleep (more like planned unconsciousness) and what little food he could safely steal. All of this… it was sheer luxury, and it made him uncomfortable – not to mention restless.

He wanted to go out and fight some real crime, for goodness sake.

Fortunately, leaning against the doorway and silently watching Ben and Sue chat, the TV blaring unnoticed in the background, he was about to get just what he wanted.

"Breaking news!" A pretty-looking anchoress said in a sugary-sweet voice. "A hostage situation has ensued at New York Central Bank downtown! Recently discharged Corporal James Shawcurt is holding his children, bank staff, and an unspecified number of civilians hostage at gunpoint in the bank's vault.

"Police are at the scene and attempt at diplomacy have resulted in one officer being shot. Shawcurt still has not stated his demands, and police are getting desperate. More on this story as it develops…"

Reed suddenly burst into the living room, clutching, as usual, his PDA. "Sue, Ben, an ex-soldier is holding up New York Central! The Chief of Police wants us to step in!"

Johnny, meanwhile, was frowning musing to himself. "Shawcurt… Shawcurt… as in Tom Shawcurt?" He wondered aloud, stroking his chin.

Reed, catching this, nodded. "Yes… Thomas Shawcurt is his son. He had his sister are among the hostages."

Sue and Ben were already moving to mobilize, putting on their uniforms and such. But Johnny simply stood there, frowning. How did he know Tom Shawcurt? What was it that made him-

Ah. Of course.

In the future, Johnny had known him as Captain Tom Shawcurt, one of the most brilliant military minds of the time. And this man would be his father…

Then something clicked in his brain. Johnny knew this event. This had happened before, only when the Fantastic Four arrived to help gunfire broke out and the Corporal had been killed by accident in the melee. And ironically, as it turned out, James was not a hostile maniac; he just had…

Oh, wow. Johnny had to stop this. His father's death stunted Tom's potential for years and created a barrier of hatred between the man and the Fantastic Four, which had only been dissolved by time. What a boost it would give the future if that barrier had never existed!

That settled, Johnny knew he had to stop this man from dying. But how could he do that without giving away future knowledge? Johnny quickly scrambled together a plan, then finally turned to Reed with an inquisitive look on his face.

Well, here went nothing.

"They said on the news he was recently discharged- why?" He asked curiously.

Reed glanced at his PDA. "Ah… Shawcurt came back shortly before Christmas because his time served was over. Apparently, though, it was also a reward; just before he was originally supposed to return from overseas, his squadron was bombed just outside a small Afghani village. He single-handedly saved one half of the village, but complications resulted in his staying in the Middle East for another six months."

Johnny nodded solemnly. "Okay. Did any planes, jets, aircrafts pass over just before the situation started?" He asked.

Frowning, Reed said, "I hardly see why that matters, but…" He quickly tapped several buttons on his PDA, then looked up in surprise. "Yes, actually. A passenger plane en route to JFK went right by them." He paused. "Johnny, what's this all about?"

"I have a hunch. You guys gotta let me come with you." He said firmly, with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

"What? Of course not! Johnny, you're still hurt!" Sue said, walking towards them fully suited up. She gave him and older-sister glare, but he refused to back down.

"Come on, Susie. I'm not going to do anything- and besides that, I can use crutches now!"

She narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms over her chest.

"Come on... please?" He asked, nearing desperation.

She flung her hands in the air. "Alright, alright. But I'm going to keep an eye on you... if you do anything stupid, I'm bring straight back home. No questions asked."

Johnny relaxed and sighed happily. "Alright- now let's get it on!"

Sarah: Let's... move on to the next chapter, shall we?