Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure.

Disclaimer: See prior chapters.

Summary: See prior chapters.

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Sarah: ONG! Eleventh chapter! We've come so far!

Jackie: Yeah, really. I just hope we can live up to the hype now!

Sarah: We have hype? ONG WE TOTALLY HAVE IT MADE!

Jackie: ...sure, let's go with that! –sweatdrop-

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Chapter Ten

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The angry boy, a bit too insane,
Icing over a secret pain -
You know you don't belong…
You're the first to fight;
You're way too loud;
You're the flash of light on a burial shroud -
I know something's wrong…

-Third Eye Blind, Jumper

Something cool and damp was brushing against the side of his face, and to his battered skin it felt delicious. He turned towards whatever it was and dazedly rested in its comfort before recalling the situation he had just been in.

Johnny's time-hardened blue eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start, ignoring the surge of throbbing pain and dizziness that came with the motion. He looked around warily and realized that he was in the small medical portion of Reed's lab, on one of the examination tables.

But something was off- the lab was dark and empty except for him. How had he gotten here from the training room?

The answer to that became apparent as Sue cleared her throat. She was clutching a damp cloth in one hand, and had an expression of anger and extreme anxiety on her face.

Oh, right.

"Uh, hi Sue." He said blankly, unable to come up with something more original in his near-concussed state. Stupid robots.

She frowned seriously and asked in a harsh tone, "What was that all about?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to do a little training." He replied honestly, shrugging and discovering with a wince that he had not been as careful with his previous acrobatics as he'd thought he had been.

Sue stepped up to him, glaring at him severely, than sighed. Her anger melted away to be replaced with relief, and she threw her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. "I was so worried about you! I-I walked in and saw you all bloody and bruised and..." A shudder wracked her entire body and she buried her face in his shoulder.

A sharp pang of guilt. "I'm sorry," He apologized automatically, wrapping his arms around her stiffly at first, but he finally relaxed and began rubbing her back slowly, comfortingly. The way a father would a crying child.

Finally the woman took a deep breath and looked up at him, the anxiety having faded slightly from her expression and amusement now shining in her azure eyes. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

Johnny paled and averted his eyes. "Y-Yeah. I guess."

She smiled gently and kissed him on the cheek in an affectionate way, then bid him goodnight before returning to her room with a veritable bounce in her step. Such a drastic change from before... well, he would just have to be thankful for pregnant women and their mood swings.

He sighed and looked down at himself and suddenly realised what Sue had meant when she'd called him bruised. In the half-conscious state he'd been in while deciding that trying to force sleep would be pointless, he had forgotten to put anything on besides his pyjama pants. Thus, all the scars and premature build-ups the poison had caused were clearly visible. However, because of the state she found him in, she must have assumed that the marks were fresh.

So, despite the fact that he'd been kicked in the head with a foot made of a titanium-based compound, Sue's sudden entrance was apparently been a blessing in disguise. It gave him an excuse to be bloody and battered.

But as he gingerly lifted a hand to steady his head, Johnny's monstrous headache was not the only thing ringing in his ears. He shook his head dejectedly and made his way back to his bedroom, not for sleep but for proper clothing. Staying in the Baxter Building would be a mistake; he needed to clear his head.

Pulling on a pair of loose jeans and a light jacket, Johnny took the stairs down to the main floor and headed out onto the street. The night was crisp and cold, and the sky above was dappled black and charcoal from the overhanging clouds. Amazingly, the streets were bare except for the occasional person; even the moon had refused to come out tonight.

Thus, the hero was left alone with his thoughts as he slowly walked down the streets of New York. Headed anywhere but home.

The city noises still echoed in the distance. Faint sirens and the sounds of rushing traffic, as well as the million or so indistinguishable voices – speaking, yet saying nothing - would never fade entirely from the background, but they were not what Johnny was listening to. Johnny was listening to the voices of long ago, memories stirred by one crucial sentence his sister had so unthinkingly muttered.

"Oh, come on! I'm a grown man; I'm married now, I can make my own decisions! Stop trying to run my life!"

"This isn't about that at all! This is about safety, so for both of your sakes, you can't move out now!"

"I have super powers! I can spontaneously burst into flame! I can protect her all on my own. And besides, we won't even be that far away!"

"No, you- you won't be – because you're not g-going!"

"You- You know what you're doing? You're being a hyperactive control freak! I'm leaving tonight, and that's final!"

"Johnny - stop! D-Don't walk away from me!"

"I'll do whatever I damn well please!"

"I-I hate this!"

"I hate you!"

"..."

"S-Susie? SUE!"

That day, so long ago, was the day that he had triggered the third stage of Sue's toxin. They had been attempting to delay it for months on end, but on that day a heated argument had taken place. An argument that led to her demise.

The effects of the third stage meant that he had never even gotten to apologize for his rash words, that the last thing his sister ever heard him say was that he hated her.

In his heart of hearts, Johnny couldn't blame Doom for Sue's death. Because even though the poison was the method, he knew that he had killed his sister.

He blinked significantly and let out a breath that billowed out in front of him as a small, silvery cloud, turning a corner down a poorly lit side street.

Why, oh why was he constantly mourning the dead from his time? They all were alive– not as he knew them, but still alive. That should have been good enough.

But it apparently wasn't. He was just as haunted by them in the past as he had been in the future, the only difference being that here he was surrounded by living ghosts of his future friends and family. The guilt had followed him back in time; a crushing weight on his spirit just like it had been then.

Countless times, Johnny had actually approached Sue in order to apologize for his actions to her in the future – not to explain, but just to try and gain some sort of pardon. But each time he had been unable to follow through for one reason or another, each time he'd been left standing and staring hungrily at his sibling... trying to gain what would never be offered.

Forgiveness.

"Probably stupid to even try..." He murmured, eyes on his feet as they led him down another dark street.

It was at that point in time he heard the menacing click-click of the hammer of a gun being pulled back.

"Probably stupid to wander the New York streets at night." A low voice growled as a masked man stepped from the shadows, pistol in hand, mask covering his face. "Hand over your wallet. Fast."

Johnny groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me." Was the Human Torch about to be mugged on his own turf? How did that happen?

"Come on, man. Hand it over." The man sneered, not recognizing him because of the darkness.

He stared at the mugger straight-faced. "I'm kind of having a rough night tonight, so I'm going to turn around, walk away, and pretend this never happened. Okay?"

"No, not okay!" The larger man stepped forwards threateningly, causing Johnny to tense and ready himself for whatever came next. "If you don't hand it over in two seconds I'm gonna-"

Unfortunately Johnny never found out what the mugger was 'gonna' do, as all of a sudden an unseen force ripped the gun from the man's hand. He looked away in a mix of confusion and fear and was suddenly lifted off the ground and dangling twenty feet in the air, hanging upside-down from a street light.

Bound and gagged by a mesh of shining silver webbing.

And crouching on top of the light was none other than Spider-Man himself.

Johnny could almost see the grin beneath his mask as the wall crawler asked with a chuckle, "Doth mine eyes deceive me?" In one smooth motion Spider-Man leaped down and cocked his head to the side. "I go out to catch a baddie, and manage to save the fabulous Human Torch in the process."

Seeing that Spider-Man had the attacker taken care of, Johnny relaxed and shot back amusedly, "Yeah, must be your lucky night."

Living in and protecting the same city, it was no surprise that the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man ran into each other occasionally. As a matter of fact, shortly after they first formed Spider-Man came to them and asked to join the team – as long as he'd get a paycheck – but circumstances led to their refusal and ever since, they had functioned as separate groups. Despite this, they were on amiable terms and when they did clash, it was usually because one group needed the other's help.

Which was why a 'casual' meeting like this was rare, and a little odd.

Turning back to the shocked mugger, Spider-Man said casually, "No, no, don't mind us. Feel free to hang out for now; the cops will be by soon enough." He walked over and patted Johnny on the shoulder before saying merrily, "Come on, hothead. I've been wanting to talk to you for a little while."

A little surprised, but not upset, Johnny shrugged and followed as he was led up the fire escape of the nearest building. Neither super said much until they were on the edge of the roof, where they sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"Is it true? What they're saying about you in all the papers?" Spider-Man finally asked quietly, crouching on the brick ledge. The mask hid the expression on his face, but caution and concern (as well as a bit of pity) were clearly evident in his muffled voice. "I know how the media works... some of the stuff they can come up with is pretty terrible, but..."

He waited a moment before replying. "Some of it is. The things they say I'm doing now is obvious bull. But the part about my past, yeah, it's true."

Spider-Man nodded. "That sucks."

"Makes me wish I could just put on a mask and escape for a while." He said with half a chuckle.

The other hero jabbed him in the ribs. "Not fair. Even with a mask, they come after you. There's no way to be safe from the media machine."

"True that. Though they're not all bad..." Johnny said cryptically, eyes glazed over as he immersed himself in memories long since passed. "But that's the thing about being a hero, I guess. Whether they like you or not, you don't get to pick the people you save."

The web slinger nodded pensively. "Yeah, really."

Johnny blinked, realizing what he had just said – that he'd just quoted the very man standing next to him. Time travel did strange things to you...

He sighed and glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. Well, if anyone would know how he felt, it was Spider-Man. At this point, they had far too much in common.

It was then that something strange came to mind. In the future, Spider-Man had been killed relatively quickly, and his true identity had come out only after his demise, when his shell-shocked aunt came to identify the body plastered all over the news. Who would have suspected mild-mannered Peter Parker was the infamous web-slinging superhero?

However, only after the funeral (paid for by Parker's boss and Spider-Man's biggest critic, one J. Jonah Jameson) did the remaining members of the Fantastic Four realize what a supporter they had lost. Spider-Man accomplished far more for the city than anyone could ever have guessed. And for all the time they had known him, they had never sought to develop any sort of serious alliance.

This was something Johnny would have to fix.

"Hey, Spider-Man – I'm out here anyways, what say I help you finish your rounds, then maybe buy you a cup of coffee?" He asked casually.

The vibrant red-and-blue mask easily hid the hero's expression, but Johnny didn't need to see his face to recognize his hesitance. "Well… alright then." Then, a sudden shift in attitude. "But only if you think you can keep up!" And with that, Spider-Man flipped off the rooftop and into the night.

Johnny made a contented noise. Kids these days, he mused, jumping off the rooftop and flaming on…with careful attention made not to burn through his clothing.

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Jackie: Sorry for the short chapter, guys. Spring break was killer - but fun.

Sarah: O.O Sez you! I haven't done that much hard labour since... ever!

Jackie: Until next time, guys! Read and review!