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.

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Sarah: This space for rent; dial 1-886...

Jackie: What?

Sarah: SHH! Trying to earn cash here!

Jackie: Umm... chapter time.

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Chapter Six

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Sometimes I fall asleep and then I lose control,
I try to find my way out without letting go.
And will I lose my mind – if it comes back this time?
If I don't turn out perfect, will you be a friend of mine?

-Thousand Foot Krutch, Slow Bleed

They arrived on scene a minute later, looking somewhat less official with three members in uniform and one in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, on crutches. But as the Fantastic Four landed and everyone piled out, there was no doubt to the severity of the situation.

Police cars and ambulances surrounded the entrance to the bank, but no one had dared to enter after one officer had been dragged out with a bullet in his leg.

Closer to the front of the barricade someone had tapped the bank's security cameras and was displaying the feed from the camera in the vault on a small TV. From there the police were keeping a close eye on the situation inside.

Apparently, two of the hostages tried to subdue Shawcurt, as one was lying unconscious on the floor and another was sporting a furiously bleeding -and most likely broken- nose.

Shawcurt himself, a stubbled, muscular man, had the look of one who had shot and killed before, and was prepared to do it again. He was standing by the vault entrance cradling large gun in one hand. With the other hand he held a two-way radio, and was screaming something that sounded like 'irefisk' into it. Watching the feed, Sue mused aloud, "You know, I could trap him in a force field and take his gun, and this would be over real quick."

"No." Johnny said firmly, drawing the gazes of his teammates. To avoid suspicion, he tried again, "I mean, it would work, but there's a better way." He hobbled over to one of the officers and, with their permission, took their radio. Johnny tossed it to Reed, saying, "Can you tap his frequency?"

"I- of course I can, but... what is this about?" Reed asked, catching it swiftly.

"My hunch. Just get me live with Shawcurt, and I'll explain in a minute." Johnny said, leaning back against a squad car and very, very quietly whispering to Cree to search her databases…

In a minute Reed handed Johnny the modified radio. The young man nodded his thanks, than motioned for everyone to be quiet. When it was so, Johnny flicked the radio on and said in a firm voice,

"Base to Shawcurt; stand down, over."

The radio crackled momentarily and on the screen Shawcurt had nearly jumped out of his skin in shock.

Soon a strained voice came back over the radio, fuzzy but understandable.

"Shawcurt here- Base, where the hell've you been, over?"

"Technical difficulties, Shawcurt." Johnny replied, not missing a beat. "Repeat, stand down, soldier. Combat has ceased, over."

"That's a negative, Base. There's still gunfire and planes overhead in my area, over."

"Shawcurt, that's our men celebrating. Stand down, Corporal, so we can all go home; over." There was a moment of silence, then in a hesitant voice, "But General Arnfisk said-"

Johnny interrupted him. "Shawcurt, I have a personal message for you from Ironfist himself. If you don't stand down immediately, he'll roast your chestnuts on an open fist." Pause. "And he does mean that literally, over."

The motley group of police officers, heroes, and paramedics watched as on the screen, Shawcurt slid down the wall and sighed. "Affirmative, Base. Standing down, over."

"Good man. Remain in position- we're sending some men in to get you out of these. Over and out." Johnny said, then switched the radio off.

The crowd of other people behind him burst into raucous applause and cheering. In the confusion, Johnny called over the chief of police and told him, "Send in a few of your officers, but tell them not to cuff Shawcurt or act aggressively in any way. Bring him outside and call a psychiatrist if he doesn't seem back to normal yet."

The chief, a rather paunchy man with thinning gray hair, frowned deeply at being ordered about. "What's wrong with him?" He asked.

Johnny furrowed his brow. "Haven't you figured it out already? Shawcurt isn't trying to rob the place, and he definitely isn't going to hurt anyone. He's trying to protect them- he's having a flashback to his time overseas. He should come out of it soon, but if you startle him before that happens, he'll flip out."

Frowning, the chief nodded and gave the orders. In a few moments they saw two officers enter the room and bring Shawcurt to his feet and escort him out.

Shortly after, the hostages were led out; some to ambulances, some to be questioned by police, and some to waiting family, but two people –a teenage boy and a little girl- had nowhere to go. They stood around uncomfortably, looking about for someone or something to direct them.

Catching this, Johnny pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his crutches, intending on going after the pair, but suddenly, without warning his ears began to ring, blocking out all other noise. Dizzily he planted one hand on the hood of the car to steady himself, taking a slow breath and waiting for the spell to end.

When it finally did, Sue was looking at him with concern. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Johnny returned quickly, staring past her shoulder to the slowly retreating backs of the children. "I'll be right back, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he gripped his crutches and set off towards them.

"Hey- kid!" He said.

The boy's dark head turned, and a defiant boy with pale skin and angry eyes stared back at him, apparently not recognizing who he was. "Yeah, what do you want?"

'He's so young...' Johnny thought in amazement, recognizing every feature –or at least, what they would one day become. 'Can't be more than 17…'

"I said, what-do-you-want?" Tom said slowly, emphasizing every word.

He blinked. Hadn't really thought that far. "Uh… hey."

The little girl, Vivian, spoke up at that moment and saved him. She tugged on her brother's pant leg and whispered, "Tommy, Tommy! It's the man from the radio!" She peered shyly at him from behind her brother's leg and smiled, displaying several missing teeth. Her hair was a soft, sandy brown, but her eyes were a deep, incredible blue; they displayed such childlike innocence that it pulled at his heart.

"Yeah, that's me." Johnny said, internally tensing up. "I'm Johnny Storm."

At this, there was a flash of recognition on the boy's face. He looked down all of a sudden, ashamed of his reaction. For a moment he was silent, and at last he muttered in return, "Tom Shawcurt. This," He gestured vaguely to his sister, "is Vivi."

The little girl smiled at him bashfully and waved.

He looked up to her brother's face and spoke in a way that would inform the boy and not frighten his sister. "I'm glad that I could help. Your dad's very sick, Tom. It was because he's sick that he did what he did."

"You mean, held up a bank?" Tom said in a mixture of bitterness and shame.

"No, I mean protecting a group of people. In his head, your dad thought he was helping them help themselves, thought that he was saving lives, but in reality… there was no danger in the first place. You've heard of PTSD before, right?"

Tom's eyes widened. "You mean-"

He nodded. "Your dad is going through a rough time right now. I'm no doctor, but I think that maybe if he talks to the right people for a while, he'll be just fine again."

Tom brightened slightly, but said nothing.

Johnny ran a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. "Another thing, Tom. Just for you. I want you to listen to me and just… let this sit in your mind for a little while."

The boy nodded, by this time looking as though he would listen.

"In everything you do; work hard, keep your chin up, and never, ever give in." Johnny said firmly, staring him directly in the eye and trying not to ponder the repercussions of telling the boy what would become his own motto not ten years from now.

Giving the older man a weak smile, Tom nodded again even though he looked as though he didn't quite get it. "Uhh… yessir."

Nevermind. He would get it eventually.

In the distance Johnny could already hear the rush of footsteps that mean the paparazzi had finally caught up. He had to cut this little chat short.

"Good man." He said, leaning forwards on his crutches and resting it on his armpit, while simultaneously reaching out a hand that Tom shook encouragingly. "You two should head home now. I'll see you around." Johnny remarked, in such a way that even Vivi knew; it wasn't a statement, it was a promise.

Suddenly, the little girl spoke up. She had apparently been following their conversation the best she could, and said in a grateful voice, "Thank you, Mr. Storm, for helping my Daddy."

"You're quite welcome, Vivi." He replied gently.

And then the photographers were on him. Blinding flashes and incessant clicking, both combined to agitate him like sand in the eye. Johnny was quickly resisting the urge to flame on and get out of there. But, as he was not willing to take another tumble down the stairs once reaching home, he took a slow breath and turned around, beginning to make him way out of the crowd and ignoring as many questions as he could.

He at least couldn't blame them. The Johnny Storm they knew was a cocky, self-centered idiot that had always had time for the media. Always time for question, autographs, etcetera.

Well, weren't they about to get a surprise.

"Johnny! How was it in Brazil ?"

"What do you think Shawcurt's sentence should be?"

"Johnny, how long were you cheating on Jessica?"

"How did you receive these injuries?"

"Johnny, is it true that the Fantastic Four is moving to Chicago?"

All the noises ran together in Johnny's head, forming a great, unending static in his mind. He frowned and tried to concentrate on not setting a crutch down on anyone's foot, but with reporters and photographers pressing in so close, he was having a difficult time. Finally, Johnny decided that he could not take this anymore, so in the calmest, most diplomatic way possible, he addressed the horde.

"I would like to respectfully request that my family and I be left alone. We are people- not objects, not idols – we have the same flaws and strengths as everyone else… well, with some slight differences. But anyways, we are human, and humans share the same basic needs; like the need for space."

Dead silence. The crowd surrounding him was stupefied by his response, and were not broken out of this until Johnny continued, "Thank you, and to all further questions: No comment."

After that the uproar was so loud that Sue had to get to gently "nudge" several of the reporters out of the way with a force field. The rest of his team pulled him out of the way rather quickly, and on the ride back things were rather silent.

Everyone, it seemed, had been struck dumb by this new Johnny Storm. The eyes of New York were on the Baxter Building; waiting to see what he would do next.

--

The next few days passed without further event. Johnny continued his work, and by February 13, he had nearly finished. He was putting the final touches on the antidote as the sun rose, and Johnny knew that by the next day he would be absolutely done. However, there would be no working on February 14.

Because the fourteenth of every month was the Day.

The Day of Mourning.

For years, the remnants of the Fantastic Four had to survive day-to-day, and in order to do that they couldn't be dwelling on the deaths of their comrades all the time. So, that they might be able to channel their grief into one day and be productive the rest of the month, Reed and Johnny had established the Day of Mourning on February 14, 2014, and for the fourteenth of every month following that.

The days leading up to it were always rough ones on the family; everyone was doing their best not to break down too early, and tensions often rose- sometimes resulting in fights.

This month was no exception. Johnny was becoming increasingly testy, but currently his overriding instinct was to treat his family with the utmost respect. Unfortunately, every time he opened his mouth he felt like biting someone's head off- and in order to stop himself from doing this he basically cut himself off from everyone else.

Moody and self-absorbed, Johnny was basically unaware of the other activity going on in the Baxter Building until the thirteenth.

On that day, he could no longer shut them out- mainly because Sue was running about like the cliché chicken with its head cut off with armfuls of clothes or other items. Reed had completely retreated to his lab, which Sue was yelling at him for every few minutes.

"What's going on?" Johnny said as the blonde whirlwind blew past his door for the thousandth time, heading for the room she shared with Reed.

From his position on the couch, Ben rolled his eyes. "Last-minute packing."

"Packing? What for?" He asked, frowning.

Ben gave him a strange look. "I'd ask ya if you'd been under a rock lately, but I know ya have. Reed an' Sue're goin' on some cruise."

"Oh, right. Of course. When're- ah, when are they getting back again?" Johnny replied, pretending he'd known all along. He hadn't.

Rolling his eyes again, the rock-man replied, "A couple days after me."

"Right, right." Pause. Wait, what? "When're you getting back?"

Ben facepalmed. "Two days, Matchstick. Saturday night. 'Licia and me are going to Tijuana for a couple days. Comprende?"

"Okay! No need to get sarcastic!" Johnny said, raising his hands in defense. A cruise? Tijuana? Had this happened before? Was he even here for it back then? Immediately he wondered if it were at this point in time that Sue and Reed had been poisoned- but then again, he reminded himself, he'd nearly finished the antidote. He would test them when they got back, and if that were the case, he would be able to cure them. Nothing to worry about.

"REED! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!" Sue screamed, dragging a pair of large suitcases into the main room. Ben and Johnny winced as the scientist came scrambling into the room, but averted their eyes as Sue shot them a fierce glare.

A short shrieking session later, Reed approached meekly with his own (much smaller) suitcase in hand. "So Johnny, you'll be able to hold down the fort for a couple of days?" He asked nonchalantly, as if the last few minutes had not occurred.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." He said, nodding.

"You'll be sure to take your medicine, turn off the lights, and lock the doors if you head out?"

Johnny blinked. Medicine? Oh, right. That bottle of pills in the bathroom. The doctors had given him some pain pills, but he honestly hadn't even opened it yet. The pain didn't bother him- at least, not enough to take something for it. "Sure." He agreed, technically only one-third lying.

"No wild parties. We'll be keeping an eye on MTV, just in case." The man gave Johnny a long, measuring stare.

He forced a humourless laugh. "Nah, I'll just... play video games or something."

Across the room, Sue had moved their luggage to the elevator. "Reed, the cab's waiting."

Both men made their way over, Johnny taking a slightly longer time. Finally, Reed turned to him. "Alright. We'll see you in a few days, then."

Sue turned to him and gave him a strong -but not too strong- embrace, which he, startled, returned. "Take care of yourself, little brother." She murmured in his ear.

"You, too, sis." Johnny replied, using every ounce of his self-restraint not to break down then and there.

She leaned back and beamed at him. "Goodbye- for now!"

And then they were gone.

Johnny let out a long sigh and leaned against the door frame. "You, too."

Less than an hour later Alicia arrived to pick Ben up.

He was truly alone again.

--

That night seemed to last forever. Despite the pain in his still-healing ribs, Johnny lay on his side curled up in a ball on the floor of his bedroom and stared, barely blinking, into space. He was nearly trembling with anticipation.

The moon rose and set, and pre-dawn light cast wan shadows on his walls. The clock on his bedside table read 6:15. Slowly, shakily, Johnny pushed himself to his feet and limped over to the bed. He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge, then removed his shirt and threw it in the corner.

And he looked down to his wrists.

With faint affection, he traced the faded scars running along forearm. Though they were and would forever be disfigured by his actions as a young boy, Johnny's wrists still seemed so unspoiled compared to the way they had been in the future. If they had been worried about him after three attempts to take his life, well, they had seen nothing yet.

In the future, after everyone else had gone, he had attempted to kill himself another four times. He should have died many times over, but every single time he'd been stopped against his will.

In those years, he'd spent more time lying strapped to a hospital bed then most people did sleeping.

The truth was, Johnny was not well. Obviously, not physically, but mentally and emotionally he had been broken over and over. The only reason he was able to withstand living with the ghosts of those he had once killed, day after day, night after night, was because of the Day.

When he could finally let it all out.

Taking a shuddering breath, he closed his eyes.

And let himself remember.

The horror and confusion in Angel's eyes as she lay, prone, before Doom.

The doctor, carrying away a twisted black lump of flesh. Sue screaming to know what had happened, but all they told her was that she did not want to see…

The sound of a body crumpling to the floor. Turning around to see his beloved sister, pale and lifeless. Anger fading instantly as he shrieked her name.

The tortured look of despair on Reed's face as the light left Sue's eyes.

Pleading with his love not to leave him as she urged him to be strong.

Clouds gathering overhead as the rest of the mourners left; a solitary woman standing at the grave.

The all-encompassing black clouding over his vision as his teammates looked on in horror.

The harsh snap of a pretty young neck, and a silence that ate a hole in his heart.

The wretched creature that was his guilt clawing out his insides, scraping him empty day after day.

Johnny spent that day remembering everything he had tried so hard to forget for the last month. Remembering. Despairing. Grieving.

At first he had been slightly confused about whether or not he should actually participate in the Day of Mourning; once he'd gone back in time, essentially everything had been undone - they were alive again. But it didn't feel that way to him. Reed, Ben, and Sue were there, and that was an indescribably happy thing, but there were too many missing people for it to feel just right.

Frankie and Valeria.

Ben and Alicia's boys.

And of course, his own family.

She was alive now. A few short miles away, she was completely unharmed.

But then again, she didn't yet know who he was. Johnny wasn't supposed to meet her for several years yet, and even if he was going to go and ruin her life by following through on that meeting, he didn't want to take the chance and ruin it by going and talking to her now.

Confused, frustrated, and upset; Johnny scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his arm. But then again, that was what the Day was for. Letting out everything you've tried so hard to block out for the past month.

That Day Johnny did his best to release everything he'd tried so hard to hide from his teammates. He let himself feel again. He wept, threw things, screamed into a pillow, and finally settled amongst the wreckage, watching the sunset from the same position he'd spent 'unsleeping' the night before.

As the emotional exhaustion began to set in, Johnny made a promise to himself, to everyone. "I'm sorry I failed you before," he whispered, "and I swear I won't let it happen again."

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Sarah: WOO! ELEVEN PAGES! A RECORD!

Jackie: What did you guys think? Excited about next time?

Sarah: Well, too bad! Two chapters means that the only way there'd be an update Sunday would be if we scrambled ridiculously freaking hard and got out a half chapter!

Jackie: Umm... this bit was actually less than we originally planned.. a half-chapter Sunday might be possible...

Sarah: Don't ruin it! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!