Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four, movies or comics, or Chris Evans. I'd be rich if I did.

I'd like to thank yaonne- san, ShadowWolfDagger, yumi-wheeler, special agent Ali, Hio, and penny3 for reviewing, and everyone who reviews after the fact. Sorry for the wait, but I had school business that I had to go away for, and I update in a specific order. Hope you like it.

Warnings: this will have mentions of child abuse, and some graphic scenes.

This is an AU, it's gonna have flashbacks, and there is a 12 year old gap between Sue and Johnny, at the start of the story. Takes place after Rise of the Silver Surfer.

Johnny

Chapter 8: The Letter

"Tears are the silent language of grief." Voltaire

Reed sorted through the files, spotting the numbers on the bottom right hand corner. "Guys, I think we're supposed to look at these in a specific order, starting with this one." He said, holding up what they'd assumed was a letter, with a fancy-looking one on the bottom right hand corner. He then opened the letter and started to read its contents.

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Dear Fantastic Four,

As you already know, I have regressed Johnny Storm, aka the Human Torch, into a five year old. There is a reason for that. You see, this is the exact age he was when he was abused and ran away. His last memory is of when Child Protective Services found him, which is after he ran away from his foster father.

The purpose of this, even though you might not believe me, is to help Johnny. When he was five years old he was abused badly; but he kept it hidden for the sake of his sister. He never told anyone. Now you tell me, what are the ramifications of holding in your emotions and never talking about what happened to you after a traumatic event, especially when you're that young? I changed him back into a child because when you're young, you can't have emotional walls no matter how much you try. People can see what you really feel, no matter how much you don't want them to. And this time you guys will know the real reason for everything. You can help him.

This is your chance to give him a better childhood and raise his self-esteem because, and you should know this if you were there at the Emporial, Johnny doesn't think much of himself. You might not know this though, Johnny was abused for six months and he didn't do anything about it until two girls came in to live with his foster father and him. Apparently, and this is what the girls said when they went to the cops, their foster father beat them and then tried to rape them. Then Johnny came in and tackled his foster father, the man who had been beating him for six months, and told them to run. According to them Johnny was covered with cuts and bruises of various different colors, and he was covered head-to-toe in blood.

When the cops arrived there, the foster father was unconscious and tied up, but there was no trace of Johnny except for a blood-soaked, white t-shirt and a room that had drops of blood spilt all over it. Johnny was found two months later on the streets of Los Angeles. He was doing just fine, making a living for himself, singing quite well if I do say so myself. There are DVD's here, in the CD case, of him that I got from his memory, as there are no visual records or proof of Johnny Storm being abused. This is all from what he remembers, stuff that still haunted him when he was nineteen.

Look at these and do your best to help him. I didn't know it before, but this kid deserves all the love and help in the world. He's had a hard life, but he is still pure at heart, if only everyone had the drive to protect their loved ones and if everyone had the ability to love unconditionally, if the world had more people like him, it would be a better place.

Just take care of him okay? The kid deserves it,

Fez

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Reed then picked up the folder, which was marked as number two. It was so quiet in the room that you could hear a pin drop, which was why they all heard the strangled half-scream that came from Johnny's room. Simultaneously, like the team that they were, they all stood up as fast as they could and raced towards Johnny's room, with Sue leading the pack and storming through the door when they reached it.

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5 minutes ago, Johnny's room

Johnny was cloaked with sweat and whimpering. His face was wet and his hair was stuck to his head and his white nightshirt was so damp you could see through it. He was all tangled up in his sheets and still hadn't quit his struggles with his internal demons.

"Boy, you better clean up this mess." Said Steve, his foster father, looking at the little, five year old boy with a look that promised pain if he didn't do what he was told.

Shuddering in fear because of the hate that he saw in his foster father's eyes, Johnny stammered out his reply, "Yes…Sir." Steve then left the room, probably to drink some more, and Johnny started on getting his foster father's throw-up cleaned up, the man was a drunk and hangovers certainly didn't help his mood any.

Johnny, who was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts, was more than halfway done with his chores, he had cleaned the vomit and was now on his second-to-last chore of the day, cleaning the dishes, when suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, he was harshly pushed forward. Johnny screamed when his head came under the now scalding-hot water and his head hit the tap, drawing blood, and then the bottom of the sink with brutal force.

As he struggled for breath, his head still forced under the water, he heard the sound of his foster father unbuckling his belt and rearing back. Determined in his mission of not giving the man the satisfaction of hearing him scream, he bit his lip and braced himself for what he knew was coming. His plan was thwarted when the belt hit him, the metal buckle digging into his bare back and Johnny Storm still biting his lip gave a strangled half-scream.

Johnny Storm kicked out, tangling himself further in his sheets and then emitting a scream, fell off of the bed, the long fall effectively pulling him out of his nightmare. He then crawled over to the corner and seated himself with his back to the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. And then resting his head on his knees, for the first time in thirteen years, Johnny Storm cried.

…TBC…

(If you want me to?)

So whaddya think? Good, iffy, bad, better, could be better? Should I continue? Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

*wishes really, really hard*hope you enjoyed it, yours truly, Brownie.