isa✮⋆˙

The doors to the lab swooshed open, the sound barely reaching your ears because of how used to it you were. Then you were met with a very familiar heat.

“Where is she?” Johnny’s voice came in firmly and panicked.

“We're over here!” Reed yelled back from where he stood beside you. You were laid out on one of the make-shift hospital beds in the lab. Trying your best to not look at your leg and also not look like you were in pain.

Johnny rounded the corner so fast he nearly slid on the polished floor.

His eyes found yours immediately.

Your suit was torn across one shoulder, streaked with soot and concrete dust. A web of bruises had already begun blooming across your cheek, and your right leg was suspended slightly above the bed in a temporary brace Reed had fashioned while waiting for the fracture to finish setting.

For one second he didn't have anything to say. He just stared at you with wide eyes.

Then his shoulders sagged with a breath that sounded suspiciously close to relief.

“You're awake,” he said quietly.

“I was technically never unconscious,” you answered without looking up at him.

His jaw tightened, "I know."

Reed looked between the two of you.

“She's going to recover fully. Tibia fracture. Couple of cracked ribs. Bruising on her face, but nothing broken. Considering the height,” he adjusted his glasses, “it's actually remarkable.”

It was comical really. You were in your bright blue suit still, just missing the right leg. And Reed still had his on under the lab coat and plastic gloves he had thrown on before he started helping you.

You offered a weak smile, “there are some perks to being nearly indestructible.”

“No,” Johnny snapped.

The word echoed through the lab. Even Reed flicked his eyes towards Johnny in shock. He very rarely used any tone but soft towards you.

You and Johnny started dating shortly after the cosmic accident you endured in space. Events like that tend to have feelings bubbling to the surface. And you have been going steady ever since.

Johnny dragged both hands through his hair before making his way to your bedside. He threw his hands up in exasperation.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked, his tone laced with frustration.

Your smile disappeared, "the kid—"

“I know about the kid,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders completely taut, “I saw him falling, but…”

“They would've died,” you cut in.

“And you almost did!” He said, his tone making you wince slightly.

“I didn't.. I- I can’t, Johnny,” you said softly.

“You fell eleven stories!” His eyes were wide, like he couldn’t understand what you weren’t understanding, “you could’ve just turned to dust!”

“It was technically ten,” you said, focusing on your hands in your lap.

Johnny laughed once, but it wasn't amused.

“It was ten,” he repeated. “Great. That's so much better.”

Reed quietly set down the scanner he'd been holding, “I'll...give you two a minute.”

He moved himself across the room with practiced ease before disappearing through the sliding doors.

Silence settled. Johnny remained standing, looking down at you. You tried to imagine a time where he was having one of his reckless days. You tried to give him grace for how he was speaking towards you. Because it was so often you yelling down at him.

You'd seen him angry before. At villains. At reporters. At Reed. At himself after missions went wrong. At your ex that one time at dinner.

But never at you.

“I could’ve had him,” he said finally, voice quieter now.

“I know,” you said, still not looking up from your hands.

“I was right there,” he repeats.

“I know,” you parrot.

“If I was a second faster…” His fists clenched.

“You can't do that to yourself Johnny,” you said, finally meeting his eyes, “he slipped.”

“I would've caught him,” he said.

“I couldn't take that chance,” you said it quickly, confidently, because you wouldn’t do it differently if you could go back.

Johnny let out another humorless laugh, “so instead you took the chance with your own life?”

“I made a choice,” you raised your voice a little, trying to get your point across. Even though you knew it wouldn’t help it land.

“No,” his voice cracked, “you made me watch you fall.”

Your head snapped back toward him. The anger had vanished. Now all that remained was fear, he was processing all his emotions right there beside you.

“I still hear it,” his eyes had gone distant.

“The sound when you hit the side of the building and then the ground,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I don’t know how to unhear it. Or unsee it.”

You swallowed.

“I can still see you disappearing into the rubble,” he paced back and forth for a moment, “I’ve literally never flown that fast.”

He paced once more, like he was buzzing with energy and couldn’t sit still, “and I still wasn't fast enough.”

“You couldn't—”

“I wasn't,” he cut you off.

The words came out harsher than he'd intended, “you got the kid though.”

You nodded once, trying to ignore the pain coursing through your body as the adrenaline subsided, “I got the kid.”

The room fell quiet again.

Johnny stared at the floor, “I've spent my whole life believing if I was fast enough,” he murmured, “if I just pushed harder...burned hotter...I could save everyone.”

He laughed softly, “turns out I can't even save the person standing right next to me.”

Something in your chest tightened, “Johnny...”

“No,” he shook his head, "I watched you disappear,” He closed his eyes, “And for about three seconds,” His voice became barely audible, “I thought you were gone and my heart stopped.”

Those three words stole every defense you'd had prepared. You'd expected him to yell, maybe even lecture you, but you hadn't expected this.

Carefully, you reached your hand toward the edge of the bed, patting lightly in the small space next to your good leg. “Come here.”

He didn't move.

“Johnny,” you reached your hand up, wiggling your fingers and willing him to take it.

Another beat passed before he finally took your hand, sitting next to you.

You threaded your fingers in his, running your thumb over his knuckles.

His skin was warm, always warm, in stark contrast to your cold hands.

“You know why I jumped,” your tone was soft and light.

He nodded.

“Id do it again,” you said honestly.

His head whipped toward you, “don't.”

“I would,” you said simply.

“I said don't,” his voice broke again, “I can't hear that.”

You squeezed his hand gently, “I'd do it because that's who we are.”

“It's who everyone thinks we should be, he corrected quietly. “But we're supposed to come home.”

You smiled sadly, “I did.”

“Barely,” he says with an eye roll.

“Still counts.”

He finally looked at you fully.

There were dark circles already forming beneath his red eyes. His hair was a mess.There was dried ash smeared across one cheek.

He looked exhausted.

“I was so mad at you,” he admitted.

“I noticed,” you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“I wanted to yell,” he said, pointing at you knowingly with his free hand.

“You did,” you said with a light laugh.

“I wanted to shake you, and knock some sense into you.”

“You probably shouldn't,” you looked down, “with the broken ribs and all.”

His lips twitched up a little, just enough to break the tension.

You smiled, “there he is."

He rolled his eyes.

For the first time since he'd entered the room, he let himself relax. His shoulders sagged a little and his fingers untensed in yours.

Then, almost hesitantly, he reached up and brushed a strand of dusty hair away from your forehead.

The gesture was impossibly gentle.

“I hate seeing you hurt my love,” he pursed his lips, holding back his emotion.

“I know,” you said, holding his blue eyes with your gaze, watching the emotion swirl behind his irises.

“I hate that you scared me like this,” he said vulnerably, “I don't know what I'd do if—”

He couldn't finish, a tear slipped down his face.

You tugged lightly on his wrist until he leaned down. Without thinking, he rested his forehead against yours.

The heat radiating from him was beyond comforting.

“You've got four other idiots willing to jump for you, you know?” He said sweetly.

A small laugh escaped you, “Fantastic Five.” You said in a sing song voice.

“Exactly,” he laughed with you.

“You know Reed is going to ban me from missions for like...a week,” you said with a pout.

Johnny scoffed.

“A week? Sue's already planning to wrap you in bubble wrap for at least a month,” he said.

“And Ben?” You asked, knowing how protective he was over you on a good day.

“He already threatened to bolt your boots to the floor on our way back here,” he smiled.

You laughed again, the sound making your ribs protest and causing you to wince.

Johnny immediately frowned, “easy, hot shot.”

He sat back and put his hands on your shoulders to help you lean back again.

“I'm okay,” you said unconvincingly.

“You don't get to say that,” he frowned again, “no lying.”

“I literally have super healing,” you smirked.

He moved his hands to caress your face softly, “yeah, well. Super healing or not, that’s one broken leg.”

Another quiet settled between you and finally, he looked at you with an expression so open it made your chest ache.

“I was terrified,” his admission was almost whispered.

You placed your hands over his wrists lightly, “I know.”

His thumb traced absentminded circles across your cheekbones, “I tried to think what last thing I said to you would’ve been on my way back over here. It was literally ‘see ya after’ before I flamed on and that’s pathetic.”

Your eyes stung. You lifted his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles.

“It wasn't though,” you said with a wet laugh.

He took a deep shaky breath, “so new rule.”

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“An ‘I love you’ and a kiss are needed before every mission. No matter how simple,” he said, completely serious.

You nodded, your head moving in his hands, “okay.”

You tilted your head up, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you, and I’m sorry.”

He let out a slow breath, the tension finally bleeding from his shoulders, “I love you, and it’s okay.”

Then, with all the carefulness in the world, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you, mindful of every bruise, every bandage, every cracked rib.

You hugged him back as tightly as you could manage. For several long moments, neither of you spoke.

Johnny only held you tighter, resting his cheek against your hair as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

Next time, there would be another mission. Another impossible choice. Another innocent person who needed saving.

That was the life all five of you had chosen.

But as Johnny closed his eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, he silently made one promise to himself.

No matter how impossible the odds, he'd never stop trying to be fast enough to catch you. And if he ever failed again, he'd be right where he was now, at your side, refusing to let you face the aftermath alone.

Tags (all): @ilocuras24 @nyxmoretti @kmc1989 @destinyg237