Author: Dark-Angels-Tears

Title: Darkfire

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Action/Adventure.

Disclaimer: See prior chapters.

Summary: See prior chapters.

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Jackie: HEY THERE, READER! IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, WE JUST EDITED AND UPDATED THE ENTIRE FIC! YOU MAY WANT TO GO BACK AND REREAD SOME PARTS, BECAUSE WE JUST PUT IN THE 'DELETED SCENES!'

Sarah: DRAMATIC MUCH?

Jackie: YOU KNOW IT!

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Chapter Twelve

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I wanna break every clock;
The hands of time could never move again.
We could stay in this moment (stay in this moment),
For the rest of our lives.
Is it over now, hey, hey, is it over now?

I wanna be your last, first kiss,
That you'll ever have.
I wanna be your last first kiss…

-Anberlin, Inevitable

When he finally returned from a night of gallivanting about the roofs of New York with his fellow outcast superhero, the despair that had formed a crushing weight in his chest had eased slightly, and the pair were well on their way to forming a fast friendship. Calmly, almost serenely Johnny made his way back into the Fantastic Four's upstairs apartment just as the sun was cautiously peeking its magnificent golden head above the horizon.

Most of the bedroom doors remained closed at this point, but soft noises and the occasional hushed voice denoted the stirrings within.

In the past, Reed had regularly been the first one up, rising shortly after the sun if he had not stayed up too late working on an experiment. Sue usually was the next to rise, as she was not content with slumbering on while her husband was already hard at work. Years of military training had Ben waking, like clockwork, at eight o'clock to prepare for another day doing whatever it was the Thing did. Finally, the Johnny of the past would drag himself out of bed sometime between ten and noon depending on how wild the party he had attended the previous night had been.

But things had changed significantly after the future Johnny had come into the picture.

Sue took the position of being the first up, and the day was considered not officially started until she had dashed to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach loudly and rather violently into her one source of comfort, the toilet. Reed still rose with the sun when he could, but if the time traveller had drugged him in order to perform his continuing tests he would be up sometime around nine o'clock or later. Ben was waking increasingly later as time passed, simply as his body needed all the rest it could take.

And Johnny... Johnny was completely unpredictable.

Generally he got an average of three to four hours of fitful sleep a night, though depending on how stressful the day was, he might decide that he didn't want to take his chances with the nightmares and not go to sleep at all. Then again, as he couldn't keep this up all the time every few days he would crash and pass out for around twelve hours or more and then wake up in either a state of lethargic despair or a violent frenzy.

It was safe to say that Johnny was the first awake, but since he did not want to disturb his family (in several ways) he usually remained in his room until Sue or one of the others showed signs of rousing.

And as the others were slowly coming around, he was free to move about.

Thus, he grabbed a fresh change of clothing from his room and headed to the bathroom. The fan was on when he got there, but he could still faintly smell the bile in the air.

He sighed. Sue was up, then.

With that Johnny stripped and stepped into the shower, turning the scalding hot water on full blast. He took a deep soothing breath as steam quickly filled the small enclosure, then examined his battered frame. A dazzling array of scars met his gaze, but they were no worse than last time. None of them were threatening to re-open; none appeared in need of bandages. And surprisingly, none of the darkened build-ups beneath his skin required attention. For once he would not have to start the day off by bloodletting, which was fortunate because Johnny was in what was (for him) a good mood, and he did not want to ruin it.

So the man proceeded with his normal cleansing practices, using naught but a bar of soap and a washcloth to remove the muck and grime accumulated by a night of crimefighting in the shadier parts of New York. He exited the stall feeling slightly refreshed, and with a subtle flare of his powers, he was dry again.

After dressing, he advanced towards the mirror. Johnny examined his face in detail and discovered that he had forgotten to shave the previous day and a good deal of stubble was darkening the lower half of his face.

Shaving in itself, usually such a normal practice, was a very strange habit to pick up again. Years and years ago (ahead?) he'd started to grow out his facial hair, and in semi-recent years he had abandoned it entirely. The result, of course, was a surprisingly thick beard that Myra had absolutely detested and had actually attempted to cut it off in the night – several times, in fact.

He gave a humourless chuckle at that memory and for her sake, took up the tools required to remove his facial fuzz.

Minutes later he stepped out; clean, shaven, and rather calm for being a traumatized, depressed, paranoid insomniac. Suddenly, something strange caught his ear and Johnny followed a tense voice and several loud banging sounds into the kitchen...

...and it was only his battle-forged reflexes that kept him from receiving a frying pan in the face.

Swiftly he dodged to the side and pressed up against the wall as the heavy metal object continued on its flight through the air before noisily crashing to the ground. Confused and alarmed, Johnny looked onwards to see what was going on.

Across the room, Reed and Sue were apparently having an argument; which Reed was either winning spectacularly or had said something profoundly stupid in, as Sue had been reduced to hurling whatever she could get her hands on at the bewildered scientist.

"Whoa! Time out! What's going on," Johnny started, then quickly ducked to avoid being hit by a wooden spoon, and continued, "and why are you taking it out on the dishware?"

Reed nodded to acknowledge his presence and replied, "I'm not entirely certain... we were discussing her condition and its effects on the team, and all of a sudden Sue started throwing things." As he finished the lid of a large pot came flying towards him, followed by the pot itself. The scientist stretched his body out of the way of both before he finally turned and looked at Johnny exasperatedly.

However, if he had been seeking comfort from the fiery hero, he was sadly disappointed. Johnny barked out a laugh and said amusedly, "You tried to tell her she couldn't help anymore, didn't you?"

Halting in his tracks, Reed started to ask, "How did you-" but was cut off as a particularly well-aimed chopping block collided with his head and he dropped like a rock.

At that point Johnny decided this had gone on far enough and carefully approached his sister, saying in an even voice, "Susie, relax! You've got a few more months before you even have to think about dropping out of the hero business. We'll talk later - for now, can we call a ceasefire?"

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest angrily, but set down the large cleaver she'd just managed to set her hands on and stalked out of the room... presumably to go bother Ben.

"Good enough..." Johnny mumbled, looking about at the mess in the kitchen and making a firm decision never to get Sue, especially pregnant Sue, mad.

A low groan floated up from the ground to reach his ears. Reed, who'd collapsed in a heap when the heavy wooden object made impact, was sporting a spectacular goose-egg on his forehead and appeared a little dazed, but other than that seemed to be fine.

Johnny crouched down beside the man and chuckled again. "Just be glad she never followed that up with that last one."

Gingerly the scientist lifted a hand to his forehead and winced as his fingers accidentally brushed the large bump. He sat up and leaned against the wall with a sigh. "Thanks, Johnny." He said half-sarcastically, but there was a note of sincerity in his voice.

"No problem!" He replied lightly, sitting down and absent-mindedly picking up the chopping block. No blood on the corners, that was good. Dealing with a minor head injury would be headache enough (excuse the pun); there was no need for it to be worse.

For a moment there was an amiable silence as Reed attempted to collect himself. Finally, he spoke up again, not even bothering to hide his slight confusion. "Like I tried to say earlier, how did you know that that was what I'd, err, suggested to Sue?"

He shook his head bemusedly in order to overcome the wave of anxiety that swept through his insides. Johnny had to be more careful with revealing what he already knew, or he would start people poking their noses in places they didn't belong. "It wasn't that hard of a guess. You never really were that great with words, you know."

Reed frowned and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not, aren't I?"

"Just get her some chocolate and she'll be fine in a little bit." Johnny suggested, not entirely joking. "The joys of pregnancy!"

The other man laughed aloud, then winced again and his hand flew to cradle his forehead. Faintly, Johnny caught the scent of copper in the air and frowned. "Are you, ahh, are you okay?" Curious...

Removing his hand from his perfectly unmarked –aside from the obvious- head and staring at Johnny blankly, Reed returned his frown. "It's just a bump, Johnny. I'll be fine."

"Right. Gotcha." He replied, standing up slowly. Curiouser and curiouser... If he was fine, then what was the source of the odour? Even now it was beginning to fade, but that didn't change the fact that for a minute Johnny had clearly smelled blood. It was a hard thing for a person to mistake... especially for someone with as much experience with the substance as he.

He headed out of the room trying to puzzle it out when Ben finally made his entrance. He looked strong and refreshed, and was grinning spectacularly. "Mornin'!" He exclaimed, walking into the kitchen and freezing at the sight that awaited him. "Whoa, what happened here?"

Johnny looked to Reed exasperatedly. "You explain. I'm going to make some toast."

--

If it were possible, a sense of normalcy began to settle over the Baxter Building over the next few days. Johnny and Ben were apparently getting a break from the symptoms, which should have set the time traveller's mind at ease, but instead seemed to worry him even more. However, he was finally beginning to adjust, even to enjoy being in the past. His nightmares plagued him like never before, and the Day was approaching again... but... slowly, achingly slowly he was beginning to draw comfort from the fact that they were simply nightmares in this timeline... and nightmares always faded in the morning light.

Right?

Despite the gradual increase in Johnny's mental health, the media still seemed to take everything he did or tried to do and skewed it in order that he would seem psychotic. They never seemed to run out of ways to trash his reputation; and though many people knew the stories were false, many more began to believe the rumours.

Each morning, the papers would show daring headlines such as, "HUMAN TORCH 'SERIOUSLY DISTURBED,' SAYS CHILDHOOD DOCTOR," "NOT SO FANTASTIC ANYMORE, POLLS SHOW," "RAZOR STORM USED IN SUICIDE ATTEMPT SELLS FOR 8.2 MILLION," and, Johnny's personal favourite, "TORCH'S HOMICIDAL RAMPAGE IMMINANT."

The horrendous amount of negative media attention would have broken a weaker man, yet whenever Johnny picked up a paper he merely gave the slightest frown and shook his head sadly. As if he not only did not care for what they had to say, furthermore, he pitied those attempting to hurt him through all of this.

Generally speaking, Johnny didn't really seem affected by all the buzz about him... but one fateful evening, uncomfortably close to April's Day, one specific headline caught his eye and wouldn't let go.

DISGRACEFUL: NEW YORK REPORTERS A SHAME TO JOURNALISM.

Located on page E2.

Written by none other than Myra Jones.

Instantly he tore through the paper searching for page E2, heart racing a mile a minute. In the editorial section, at the top of the page with a quaint cartoon sitting next to it, was the article.

Unbelievable. She'd written a story about him this early in the game? She-she cared?

Johnny shook his head in disbelief. Simply unbelievable.

Yet... not necessarily impossible.

The way events had been running must have jump started her campaign against the more vulture-like reporters of the city. She always had been extremely proud and idealistic, almost to fault - but her caring nature overrode the negative aspects of those traits. Overall, Myra was simply an extraordinarily passionate person, which was one of her most endearing qualities.

But that was enough of that for now. For now, he wanted to read the article.

DISGRACEFUL: NEW YORK REPORTERS A SHAME TO JOURNALISM

The Fantastic Four, composed of ordinary people with not-so-ordinary abilities, have stood as New York City's unofficial guardians for more than two years now. In those years they have saved it (and, indeed, the world) from destruction countless times, asking nothing in return. The foursome risk their lives daily in order that the city might remain secure – however some of these citizen's have decided that these guardians are no longer worthy of protecting them. They have betrayed them, stabbed them in the back; only to have the team turn around and save them once again. The inexcusable behaviour of local and national journalists has come to this reporter's attention, and must be brought to an immediate and well-deserved end.

Are not journalists supposed to report the truth? These false reporters disgrace their titles by reporting only their own twisted interpretations of reality, dismissing fact and reason so that their own prejudices might be spread to all willing to listen. One can only fathom why, after so many have chosen to desert them, the Fantastic Four still chose to protect New York's ungrateful citizens...

Needless to say, the article went on extensively; explaining the difference between the freedom and responsibility of the press, specifically lashing out at several papers that had been particularly abusive of him, insinuating that many articles had basically been printed slander, and finally demanding that the reader reject the false opinions and embrace the truth. 'No matter the past, presently they are New York's heroes and guardians; guardians that this reporter continues to hold the utmost faith in.'

He set the paper down and swallowed heavily. Indeed, she had not lost her touch.

Johnny was trying to contemplate how someone who was technically a perfect stranger to him could simply care so much, when all of a sudden Sue walked into the kitchen, where he was sitting. She had a funny expression on her face, as if she was confused about something, while at the same time questioning why she was confused. "Johnny, there's a lady at the door for you. Some reporter. I know it's late, and I tried to send her away, but she keeps saying that she wants to 'preserve the truth' or something like that."

He froze inwardly. C-Could it be? "Did she give you a name?"

"Yeah, Mira I think. I could get rid of her, if you want." Sue frowned distastefully.

"No!" He exclaimed, standing up all of a sudden and causing his chair to scoot backwards with an audible squeak.

Startled, Sue took a step backwards. "Alright then; like I said, she's at the door."

And though the rational part of his brain screamed at him not to go, Johnny found himself striding out of the room and into the entrance way.

Towards his missing half.

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Sarah: Aww... Johnny's starting to be happy again!

Jackie: That's so cute. We'll have to ruin it –evilgrin-

Sarah: XD