#evermore fic

The main problem was, Johnny Storm was nothing and everything all at once. He was the spark that lit every room, the one who made you laugh when you didn’t want to, the one who winked across the lab when Reed was being too serious, the one who leaned just a little too close when you were working on something. 

But Johnny was just a friend, and that was it.

A friend who flirted too much, but never went past that, no matter how much you wished him to. It was the kind of will-they won’t-they thing that made Sue smile knowingly, Ben shake his head, and Reed mutter under his breath about unresolved tension in his lab. 

And the kind of thing that made you want to jump from a high place just for him to come and catch you. 

And then kiss you. 

Yes…you were down bad. 

And then came the gala. The kind of night where champagne tasted like water at some point and the city blurred behind the tall glass windows of the building. You shouldn’t have let Johnny keep pouring into your glass, shouldn’t have let yourself get swept into his orbit more than usual, but you did. 

His warm hand fit perfectly against your waist when he pulled you into a spin on the empty dance floor, your laugh echoing on the walls as he twirled you around. You two looked like a mess. His shirt untucked, hair tousled, your shoes off, dress loosened up on the back where his hands inevitably began drifting lower and lower. 

Everything felt so funny, yet so right. His laugh was loud and golden, his lips too close when he whispered a joke meant only for you, even when there was no one else around. 

You told yourself it was just the alcohol, the dizzy haze of his scent and the music he’d played on the turntable. But his warm hands kept roaming freely, and you couldn’t help yours from feeling every ridge of his muscles either. The night faded into sloppy kisses, his hips snapping against yours as you finally turned that ‘unresolved tension’ into a melody of midnight gasps and your headboard banging the wall, knowing Sue would probably give you hell about it the next day. 

But the night was just like him. Everything and nothing all at once.

Everything because all you’d ever wanted was his body on yours, his groans against your skin, his undivided attention on making sure you were having as good of a time as he was. But it was supposed to mean nothing because that’s what you were. Even when he was buried deep inside you. 

Next morning, you woke up to his warmth. Your legs tangled on your satin bedsheets, his arm slung heavy around your waist. We shouldn’t have, was your first thought. But when you saw his face just inches away from yours, soft and peaceful in sleep, and his golden hair on your pillow…you could picture yourself waking up to that everyday. 

It wasn’t just the alcohol. You knew it. 

And he knew it, but “we shouldn’t have” was his first thought too, and unfortunately he let that be the only one he said out loud. Johnny cracked a joke, like he always did, and you forced a laugh, because for the first time you didn’t find him funny. 

The two of you ruled it out as a mistake. Too much champagne. Too little sense. 

When it was too much stupidity, actually. 

Because it didn’t feel like a mistake, not to you. Never to you. Not when the warmth of his touch still lingered on your body, not when his cologne clung to your pillow even days later. And most certainly not to him, either. When he could still hear your moans, when he could still feel your nails on his back, when he could still remember every thrust he buried his love with. 

But when people said ‘idiots in love’, you two surely loved to focus on the ‘idiots’ part of it. 

Because you let fear rule over your love, because you were nothing, just friends, and friends weren’t supposed to wake up in each other’s beds with their hearts racing. You couldn’t afford to ruin a friendship over what you both thought was a one sided infatuation. 

And the heart I know I’m breaking it’s my own 

To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever known

You thought staying friends was safe…until it wasn’t. 

A month and a half later, you were holding a test that changed everything. Staring in shock at a blue + sign that pulsed on the tiny screen. You felt lightheaded, your pulse skyrocketing  as the world tilted under your feet. Terrified wasn’t even enough to describe it. 

Because you loved Johnny Storm, stupidly, deeply, recklessly. But to him, you weren’t his. You were just…you. A friend. How you came to despise that word. 

Now every day felt like waiting for the inevitable, for the moment you’d have to tell him. For the moment your almost thing would turn into something you couldn’t go back from. 

You thought you could hide it. But then the mornings started hitting harder. The nausea, the way your head gaslighted you into thinking you suddenly hated the smell of coffee. You brushed it off as a stomach bug, as stress, as anything other than what you knew it was. It worked for a while; you became an expert at dodging the family’s concern behind excuses of exhaustion. 

But Johnny…Johnny was trickier. He wasn’t oblivious, not when it came to you. If anything, he watched too closely. He could see when your laugh didn’t reach your eyes, when your smile was more of a mask. He thought it was because of that night. He thought he’d ruined something that didn’t even exist in the first place. So he asked one night, casually, leaning against the doorframe of your room with a bowl of popcorn. 

“Are you waking up earlier? I haven’t seen you around breakfast lately.” He said, a cocky grin on his face to hide the true worry behind his words. “One would think you got tired of my face.” He joked, like always. 

“Got tired of the same cereal.” You joked back, and he feigned offense by putting a hand on his chest. 

He didn’t press further, because the truth was he didn’t want to know if it really was that night, and it was easier to deflect reality with stupid jokes. So that night you ended up watching a movie. His shoulder grazing yours as you shared the popcorn, sat on the same bed he’d made love to you. Your head inevitably leaned on him. And he let you, of course he did. 

You hated that you didn’t mind it. 

As months kept going, your clothes became tighter, so you stole Johnny’s sweaters with the excuse of the weather getting colder, even when it was the middle of August and autumn was still yet to come. But he didn’t mind, how could he when you looked so cute wearing his clothes? 

How naive he was. 

You told yourself you were buying time. That you needed to be sure before you said anything, that you had to pick the right moment. But really, you were scared of the look on his face, scared of turning something unspoken into something real. 

For now, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. 

August slipped away into a moment in time

‘Cause you were never mine

September.

On the day you turned three months pregnant, you left early in the morning for an ultrasound appointment. Your only company was the chilly September air. It was just supposed to be that, a normal day. But as you lay on a medical bed and saw the life growing inside you through a screen, something terrible was happening back in the tower.

A planned attack. 

It wasn’t dramatic in the sense of fire everywhere, or the use of brute force. No, the Fantastic Four were more than capable of dealing with that sort of stuff. In this case, information was more valuable, and unfortunately, more vulnerable. 

The Baxter Building was supposed to be untouchable, layers of firewalls, Reed’s tech securing every inch of the place. But today, someone managed to hack every single file. And what better way to create a distraction than by targeting the innocent little droid first. All they had to do was program H.E.R.B.I.E into thinking his family was the enemy, starting with the two year old that was left in his care. 

Franklin. 

And for a few terrifying hours, the Fantastic Four had to fight an invisible enemy. Franklin had barely left unscathed, H.E.R.B.I.E was shut down until he could be repaired, but the damage was done. Their entire database got transferred to some location Reed kept desperately trying to track. 

Some screens still flickered, the alarms were muted but still ringing in everyone’s heads. Reed’s lab was suffocatingly tense, his quick typing and occasional scribble on the chalkboard were the only sounds. 

Sue rocked Franklin on her hip, she had twice survived someone wanting to harm her child; her bloodshot eyes showing she wasn’t sure she could ever take a third. Ben sat on the yellow couch, occasionally offering reassuring smiles to little Franklin. 

Johnny had been trying to contact you as soon as the hellish situation was over. But tracking you was useless, because you’d left the watch he’d given you in your room that day, since you noticed it messed with the ultrasound machine every time. 

But the worst part wasn’t that he couldn’t find you, no. The worst part was that every single trail of what happened that morning in the building was traced back to you. To that watch Johnny found on your nightstand, and which Reed now held next to his screen. 

And you weren’t even there to defend yourself. 

“Tell me this is a mistake.” Sue’s voice cut through the tension, still bouncing Franklin desperately. She walked toward Reed, leaning over his shoulder. 

He didn’t look at her, his eyes still darting over the evidence scrolling down his screen. “I’ve checked it four times. The data breach is always traced back to an internal device.” His tone was even, but his hands hesitated when holding the watch. Your watch. “Not just internal…hers.”

Ben shifted uneasily on his seat. “Come on, Reed. We’re talking about the kid here…there’s no way she’d pull something like that.”

Reed went through the decryption for the fifth time, and all the incriminating details. Log-ins with your name, encrypted messages sharing information only you would know. It was too calculated, almost like the perfect crime, but they couldn’t see past the fear that morning caused. 

“This is bullshit.” Johnny snapped, walking around the lab shaking his head. “She wouldn’t–she couldn’t do this. Not her, and you all know it.” 

“Johnny, it’s all right here.” Reed looked at him. He didn’t want to believe it either, but he was a man of facts, and they were right in front of him. 

Johnny shook his head violently, pacing like he was going to burst into flames to burn the adrenaline off. “No, I don’t care what your computers say. She’s not like that– you know she’s not.” He defended fiercely. “She loves this family. She loves Franklin. She loves–” He cut himself off, like he still couldn’t say it out loud. “She loves us, okay–Sue? Help me a little bit here.” He looked at his sister, still clutching his nephew for dear life. 

“Johnny, I really wanna believe you.” She said, soft and honest. “But we’re talking about my son’s safety. Your nephew. What if…what if she isn’t who we thought?”

Reed sighed, exhausted. He wasn't an emotional person, but he wasn’t immune either. Pushing past all the logic, all the damning proof on his screens, his eyes reflected his heart trying to cloud his judgment. 

He’d grown fond of you too. You were brilliant, a true delight to work with. And you had always been so caring to the children of the place. Franklin and Johnny. Well, at least that's how it played in Reed’s eyes. The point was, he didn’t see you as just an intern, but as family. 

“I wish it wasn’t this way, Johnny. But we can’t ignore the facts, the evidence–strong evidence. Whoever did this had access to information only available to us…and the trail points to her being the leak.”

Johnny lifted his hands in the air, closing his fists like he wanted to choke the words that came out of Reed’s mouth. “If you think for one second I’m gonna stand here and believe she betrayed us, then you don’t know her like I do.” He tried to sound firm, confident, but his voice cracked. “I just know she…she wouldn’t do this to me.”

“Johnny…” Sue sighed. “This is not just about you…this is Franklin we’re talking about.” 

That set him off. The argument kept going in circles. Reed insisting on facts, Johnny yelling at him, Sue trying to reason with her brother, and Ben caught in the middle, taking Franklin from Sue’s arms to move him away from the confrontation. 

But then Reed’s screen chimed, with the results of the last decryption of information he got from your watch. He froze, making Johnny stop bickering with Sue.

“What?” He asked, leaning over Reed’s shoulder. 

Reed’s hands hovered over the keys as he took in the information. He saw dozens of image files, schematics, and hand drawn maps of the Baxter Building. 

And not just that, but the personal notes you’d made on them. 

At first he tried to find the logic, like he always did. And there was actually a reason behind it. It had been a project you’d worked along with Reed to set up a new security system when Franklin was born. He could see all the key points that he had explained to you alone. Okay, acceptable. But it had extra annotations around Franklin’s nursery, weak points, blind spots, stuff only you had observed and noted. 

But he didn’t know it had been from a place of good. The extra time you took to analyze everything to make sure the new systems would secure the child’s safety. And of course, they couldn’t see past that, because the thing you had used to protect him, was the very same that was used against him. 

And this time, in their eyes, there was no more room for the benefit of the doubt. Not when you weren’t there to explain it to them. Not when Sue couldn’t keep her eyes off Franklin in Ben’s arms as if something would happen to him the second she blinked. 

Johnny just stared in silence, he recognized the notes instantly. He remembered you perched at Reed’s side, stylus scribbling on your tablet as you tried to follow his explanations. He remembered laughing when you drew a tiny flame by his room. “So you don’t get lost, blondie.” 

It was yours, that was undeniable. And the decryption showed those notes had been shared outside the tower a few weeks ago. Far away from the family it belonged to. 

“Tell me someone forged this,” Ben said roughly, as the last thread of hope he had on you had snapped. 

Reed shook his head. “It’s not forged. These are her annotations, this was information I confided in her with…her own observations on the Tower’s weak points.”

“That’s yeah…that’s hers.” Johnny breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s–god, that’s her handwriting.”

Sue pressed a hand to her mouth, tears already spilling. She adored you like a sister, trusted you with Franklin more than anyone. 

Johnny staggered back a step, like the air had been punched from his lungs. His eyes still locked on the little flame doodle. Was that why he couldn’t reach you all morning? Had you ran away and left them to pick up the pieces of everything you broke? 

For the first time, Johnny had no defense, no fiery protest. Just the crushing weight of evidence that seemed to confirm what he feared the most. The girl he loved had been betraying him–no…all of them all along.

And I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole

Long story short, it was a bad time

You carried the folded black and white print in your bag. Proof that everything inside you was still very real. But for the first time in weeks, you didn't feel afraid, instead you felt a strange kind of calm. 

That’s when you decided you’d tell Johnny. 

Whatever happened after, he deserved to know. He deserved to know you didn't really see him as nothing, that he was actually everything. And that everything, that love, was turning into something beautiful. You’d seen it through a screen today, and you wanted nothing more but to share it with him. Maybe next appointment he’d be there to hold your hand through it too. 

You just hoped he’d be able to forgive you from keeping it a secret for so long. 

When you walked back into the Baxter Building, you couldn’t find anyone. The place was quiet, as if the multiple floors of offices had been evacuated. Your heart raced as you went up the elevator, and walked around the empty halls of the family’s floors with not even a sign of Herbert. You rushed to the lab, the last place you needed to check. The elevator’s door opened, and you sighed in relief when you found your family inside. 

They all turned to you at once, and you were shocked to be met with red, puffy eyes. Sue rushed to stand in front of Franklin and Ben. Reed’s eyes darted between you and the screen, and Johnny…Johnny wouldn’t meet your gaze.

The relief didn’t last long. 

“What is going on? What happened?” You walked instinctively toward Johnny, but halted when you noticed he took a step back before you reached. “The whole building is empty, are you guys okay–“ 

“We didn’t think you’d actually show up here.” Sue’s harsh tone made your brows furrow. It didn’t sound like her, not like the woman who would put a blanket over you and Johnny when you fell asleep watching a movie in the living room. 

“What? Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, completely taken aback with the way she looked at you. “Johnny?” You called to him, but for some reason he refused to lift his gaze from the lab’s floor. 

“There was an attack today. On our…information.” Ben explained, softly. “And on F–“

“Franklin.” Sue finished for him, and your eyes went wide, but before you could ask, Reed rotated the sphere monitor so you could see what they’d discovered 

“The breach came from your device. And these…” He pointed to the screen. “These schematics were used to override our firewalls, and steal all of our information. Including all our safety protocols."

You walked a few steps closer, just enough to see your watch connected to the monitor, and all the information displayed on it. Your notes, your handwriting, your sketches, things you’d only ever shared with them.

“That’s–no, that’s impossible. I never shared that with anyone…I don’t–Reed, you know I never–“ You fumbled your words, nothing could’ve ever made you ready for this type of accusation. “My watch has been glitching lately, Johnny I told you that.” Your eyes darted to him, hoping he’d say something, that he’d defend you. But that wasn’t what came out of his lips.

“But that’s your handwriting.” He mumbled, arms crossed across his chest, but he still wouldn’t look at you. 

“On the plans that put my son in danger today.” 

“Yes, that’s my handwriting, those are my notes. But–” The words tore out of you, panicked. “I don’t know how they got that. I swear to you, it wasn’t me.”

Your eyes burned, your throat tight as you looked around the room at the family who once claimed you as their own, at Johnny, who didn't have it in him to meet your desperate gaze. 

“Johnny, please.”

Finally, Johnny’s head lifted. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red. It hurt you to see him like that, but it hurt you more that his mistrust of you was the reason behind those tears. Still, for one moment you let yourself believe he might leap to your defense like always. And as he looked right into your eyes, he wanted to. God, he really wanted to. 

To this day he could still remember the taste of the champagne from that night, the way your laugh had muffled against his neck, the feel of your fingers brushing his. He could still remember the way he brushed it off as nothing. But it wasn’t “nothing”. You weren’t “nothing”. 

You were supposed to be the one person who saw him, past all the cockiness, the one who always listened to him even when the family didn’t. You weren’t supposed to be the one who lied, who hurt him. He looked at Reed, hoping for a sign, hoping for that impossible “I was wrong”, but Reed only shook his head, because as always, he wasn’t. 

“The watch matches the breach exactly. There’s no evidence of tampering on it.”

“Then find it!” You snapped at Reed, making everyone flinch on their spots. “This is my home, I would never hurt any of you, much less Franklin.”

You couldn’t believe it. Had they really given up on you so easily?

“Johnny, come on,” you whispered. “You know me. Better than anyone.”

He did…or at least he thought he did. But the screen behind you glared back at him, your notes, your access codes, the coincidences. The smoking gun in your own handwriting.

“If this is some kind of mistake,” Johnny said quietly, “then give me something. Anything that makes this make sense.”

“I wasn’t even here, Johnny. I was–“ you cut yourself short, not exactly knowing how to explain you’d been hiding a baby when everything you said already sounded like a lie to them. “Can you just give me a second? I just need to–“

“There’s no time to spare, I need to track where this information has gone. You could at least tell us that.” Reed said, and you blinked in disbelief. 

“I can’t tell you something I don’t know.” You shook your head. “This is not about what you guys are seeing on that screen. This is about you trusting me for who you know me to be.” You fought one last time. 

Reed just sighed, finally daring to say what they’d all agreed on before you arrived. 

“We are shutting the building down. Everything will be changed to make sure the information that got leaked won’t be relevant. I’ll conduct a further investigation, but…I think it’s clear enough for now. You have broken our trust. And if you’re refusing to share information with us, that means we can’t…it’s not possible to have you here anymore.”

Johnny’s head snapped up, but this time it was you who couldn’t meet his eyes. All that was left was the quiet, the heartbreak, and the sound of your breath hitching as the family you loved looked at you like a stranger. You thought of the ultrasound picture in your bag, of the heartbeat no one here knew about. The one they were casting out alongside yours. 

The weight of it crashed down. The lab blurred as tears filled your eyes in disbelief. At this point you didn’t even care about their “further investigations”, because they had already decided it had been you. Their eyes didn’t lie, they didn’t believe you. 

You lost them. And in that moment they lost you.

So you just nodded, and whispered, “I understand.”

But in your chest, your heart screamed I don’t. That’s when you decided to turn to the last person who could give you saving grace. With what little steadiness you had left, you cleared your throat.

“Johnny,” you said softly, not daring to look at anyone else. “Can I…can I at least talk to you? Just once. Please.”

Johnny didn’t answer right away. His shoulders were stiff, his face turned away, but he exhaled, and nodded. “Yeah…okay.”

Sue looked at him, but with the unbearing love she still had for you somewhere inside, she decided you two deserved that moment. So she took Franklin from Ben’s arms and rushed out of the lab, Reed following her, Ben lingered just long enough to give you one last conflicted look before the elevator doors shut closed. 

You were left in the silence of the lab, standing across from Johnny. This was either your last chance, or…your last goodbye. The room felt too big now, like you didn’t belong there anymore, but still you gathered the strength to fight one last time. 

“I can’t change what you saw, and I don’t understand why you would believe that was me. You know how much your family means to me. How much you mean to me.” You started, your voice faltering with the tears you tried to keep from spilling. “Just…think about everything we’ve been through. Every night in this place. Every secret. Every laugh. Do you really think that wasn’t real?”

That got him. His eyes snapped to you, glassy and burning, like your words meant the opposite you wanted them to.

“It was real to me,” he said. “And maybe that’s the problem. Because now all I can think is, what if it was all just part of this? What if you were playing me the whole time?”

“Johnny…”

He raked a hand through his hair, pacing again. “Do you know what it feels like? To look at you and not know if anything you ever said to me was true? To wonder if every smile, every moment, was just you getting closer to what you wanted?” His voice cracked. “What did you even want to get from this? I don’t understand.”

The realization hit worse than ever. He wasn’t questioning the stuff he saw, he was questioning you. He didn’t understand why you’d done it, because he’d already decided in his head it had been you. 

“I–this is my family.” He continued. “Why would you want to do this to my family?” 

The words carved into you. To believe you had come into the building ready to finally confess, to tell him about the baby, to give him the one piece of truth that could not be forged. But the way he looked at you now, made your stomach twist.

“I can’t tell you something I don’t know.” You repeated the same thing you’d said to Reed, blinking back the tears that blurred him out. “But I don’t think it’d matter anyways…it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

This wasn’t about proving yourself anymore. Not when he’d already decided you didn’t even deserve the chance. 

He didn’t deny it, and that was the moment you knew. The same way Sue protected her child. You couldn’t give yours to someone who didn’t trust you, who doubted the very core of who you were for some made up evidence against you. 

“I will do as your family said, I won’t be a problem to you anymore.” You said. 

His lips parted one last time, like he wanted to speak, to backtrack, but nothing came, instead his eyes went back to the floor. That silence was enough to break the parts of you that once belonged to him.

It was clear to you, that no matter how much it broke your soul, you had lost everything. So it was time to go. You wiped your tears with your sleeves, and decided you wouldn’t spill any more for him. Or at least, not in front of him. You took one last look at Johnny, the coward who couldn't even look at you as he exiled you from his life, his home, his family. 

You didn’t say goodbye, he didn’t deserve it. So you just turned around, walked to the elevator, and didn’t look back as the doors closed. 

That’s when Johnny allowed himself to break. Breathless, broken sobs muffled by his hands soaking with the hot tears spilling. He didn’t know what hurt more, that he never got to confess he loved you, or the fact that everything that made him love you wasn’t even real. He was overwhelmed with emotions, the disbelief, the fear, the anger, that it was so hard to see clearly past all of that. 

All he had left was the facts, the damning evidence on Reed’s screen. Because he didn’t have you anymore. 

Believing that was the biggest mistake of his life. 

By the time the building settled into the darkness of the night, you were already gone. No goodbye note in your room, only your untouched belongings and your heart left behind. As the cab sped away, your mind was a whirl of grief and uncertainty. They had taken your home from you, but they could never take away the last part you had from Johnny. 

The only thing you had left. 

Johnny didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands and your watch on his nightstand. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He went to your room that night, trying to find something, a clue, anything that would help him see further the haze of pain that wouldn’t leave him alone. The room was silent, cold, even when he was a walking furnace. 

You’d left the bed made, two drawers half open, but the rest was intact. Picture frames, gifts he’d given to you through the years, records he’d chosen himself still displayed on your shelves. Like you couldn’t bear to bring a single piece of him with you. Only the faintest trace of your perfume lingered, clinging to the air like a ghost. 

The room looked frozen in time, like you just stopped existing. Which, you kind of had. 

Johnny’s chest burned, but not with fire this time. With the void only loss could cause. He leaned on the doorframe, staring into the space that used to be yours, and in some unspoken way, his. He wanted to rage, to scream, to burn the whole damn world down if it meant changing what happened. But nothing would do. 

You were gone.

Because they’d asked you to. Because he didn’t fight for you to stay. The smoking gun was not in your hands, but in his own. 

That night he slept on your bed. Eyes crying acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head. He clung to your scent and the good old memories, grieving the fact that he would never get to make new ones. Not with you.

Haunted by the look in my eyes 

That would’ve loved you for a lifetime

Leave it all behind

November.

The city you once loved became unbearable quickly. Every corner of Manhattan screamed their names. Fantastic Four billboards on Times Square, interviews replaying on café TVs, merch stands at every store. You couldn’t buy milk without Johnny’s smile flashing at you from a cereal box. It wasn’t home anymore. It was a wound that wasn’t allowed to close.

So you left New York for good, all to end up in a small southern town in Georgia. 

No flashing billboards, no cameras, no whispers of superheroes. No Fantastic Four influence anymore.

Still, nights weren’t easy. 

You sat by the open window of your small rental, the autumn air freezing against your skin. You stared out at the trees of a world that felt foreign, while you replayed every step that had led you there. 

Some nights you wrote letters. Folded scraps of paper with words you couldn’t say to anyone. Questions, confessions, apologies. Letters to the fire, to him, to the life you used to have. To no one.

It was like standing at the edge of a cliff screaming ‘give me a reason’. 

There wasn’t a clear path set for you anymore. The internship you earned through your hard work had once been an impossible dream, one you got to live. 

You guessed this was the price you had to pay for those few years in heaven. 

And there was one feeling that remained with you through the fall of the leaves. That peculiar ache, the sense that this wasn’t just pain for now, this pain was for evermore.

Hey December

Guess I’m feeling unmoored

Can’t remember what I used to fight for

Tis’ the damn season.

The city became unbearable for Johnny in December. Three months after your departure. 

The Fantastic Four’s Christmas photos were everywhere. Sue smiling with Franklin on her hip, Reed stiff as always, Ben wearing a ridiculous Santa hat marketing forced him to wear but he secretly loved. And Johnny, always the center of attention, always grinning. 

Because he was miserable but nobody had to know. 

Because the world saw him as the spark of every season. 

Because he was Johnny Storm, and he could do it all with a broken heart. 

Even when he hated himself most of the time. For doubting you. For letting the proof shout louder than his heart. So he did what he was best at, and hid behind a smile and his muscles, carrying the weight of believing you’d betrayed them…and the heavier weight of still missing you anyway.

Winter was in all its glory. 

Johnny wasn’t very fond of the snow since he got his powers. It wasn’t enough to affect him, since the cold never bothered him anyway, but it felt different when flying. Different than in any other season. 

But now he liked to see it fall through the large windows of the tower. Because maybe, wherever you were, he hoped you were seeing snow too. He could at least share that with you. 

So that’s what he was doing tonight.  

Johnny stood by the large windows of your room, a place where he found himself often, and thought about you. He always thought about you. Lost in his head, entranced by the way the snow fell, he didn't notice the tiny socks dragging against the blue carpet, until a little hand tugged the fabric of his pants. 

“Uncle Johnny?”

He looked down to find Franklin, clutching the stuffed dinosaur you’d given him on his last birthday. He smiled at his nephew, crouching to his height. 

 “Yeah, buddy?”

“Where is she?” Franklin asked, tilting his head.

His question was innocent, it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but the words knocked the air out of Johnny’s chest. He stared at his nephew, and the dinosaur tucked under his arm, the same one he’d helped you pick, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. Franklin tugged his arm this time, when Johnny didn’t answer right away.

“She was always with you,” Franklin said softly. He always liked to point stuff out. Facts. Just like his father. “But now she’s not here. Mommy said she had to leave…” His little brow furrowed, because he didn’t understand. “Do you know why? Did she stop liking us?”

Johnny shook his head, forcing a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No, buddy. She didn’t stop liking you. She…she just had to go away for a while.”

“But I miss her.”

That was it.

The final crack in Johnny’s mask. He wrapped his arms around him and hoisted him up, wrapping him tight in his arms as he walked towards your bed and sat there. He buried his face in Franklin’s blonde hair so he couldn't see his eyes burning. “Yeah, buddy…I miss her too.”

He didn’t notice Sue standing on the doorway. She just watched as Johnny clung to her son, both of them breaking with the absence of the same person.

Back in your little southern town, you stared out the window too, but there wasn’t snow there. You missed it. Missed teasing Johnny about it. Missed laughing until you cried when you tried to make snow angels and he melted the snow into water in a matter of seconds. 

You couldn’t share the snow anymore, but you were thinking about him too. All while in a city miles away, Johnny held a child who wasn’t his, whispering that he missed you too.

You’re not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now? 

January.

It was the first day of the new year. 

Sue found him in your room again. It was late, hours after she’d put Franklin to bed. Johnny sat in your bed in the dark, the glow of the moonlight painting his somber eyes. His hand was curled around your watch like he still couldn’t let it go.

“Johnny.” Her voice was soft, but it carried the weight of someone who’d been watching him break for months.

He didn’t look at her right away. Just mumbled, “Can’t sleep.”

Sue crossed the room, sitting down beside him. She let the silence sit for a moment before speaking. “I know it hurts. More than it hurts the rest of us.” She reached out, resting a gentle hand on his arm. “But it's been months. And for your sake, Johnny…you can’t keep living like this.”

Johnny remembered what Franklin told him that night, and he wanted to use the same argument. ‘But I miss her’. He was sure he’d sound the same as the child, considering how his voice wasn’t as confident as it once was. 

“I can’t stop thinking about her. About that night…about everything I didn’t say.”

Sue’s hand slid to hold his, comforting in a way only a sister could be. “I know, Johnny. But sometimes people make their choices, and all we can do is let them go. You can’t burn yourself out trying to hold on to something that isn’t here anymore.”

Her words cut deep, but he knew they were spoken with love. Johnny sat there for a long time, staring at the watch in his palm. “You’re right.”

“I know it seems impossible now, but it’s time to bury it. Move forward, Johnny, for you.”

And he nodded, even though it seemed impossible. He decided then, to shove it down, to lock it up, to pretend the only fire burning him was the one from his own flames. He had to bury the pain, to bury you, somewhere he could never reach again.

The next day, as much as it hurt Sue, she moved every photo, every souvenir, every memory of you they had in the tower to that room, and put it under lock and key. Because she couldn’t keep watching her brother talk to a ghost. 

Johnny inevitably went back a couple of days after, only to find he could no longer get in. He’d noticed photos of you had gone missing, as well as all of the stuff you’d once given to him, so he figured his sister locked them away in your room. 

In that moment, Johnny wished he’d kept every receipt of the times he’d gone out with you. He would've, if he’d known one day every scrap of you would be taken away from him.

All that he had left was your memories. And he couldn’t help but wonder, What is she doing now?

If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around

I know better, but I still feel you all around

February.

Six years later. 

The town had become your home in ways you never thought it would. You’d grown to love the main street lined with diners, boutiques and an old movie theater. The way everyone waved and actually made eye contact when you walked by, the rhythm of a place that moved slower than the world you’d left behind. It was like living inside a Hallmark movie. Except…without the love interest part.

By day, you taught at the community college. Your mornings went by as a professor in the science wing, filling blackboards with equations and diagrams, trying to pass on your love for learning and the things Reed had once taught you. Your students adored you, not because you were easy, but because you made them feel like science was reachable, like anyone could do it if they put in the effort. 

By night, your world was your son. 

Leo Spencer. 

He was everything all at once. The spark in your life, the reason behind your smile, and the vivid reminder of the one person you could never outrun. 

Because Johnny Storm lived in your son’s face. 

The same golden hair, the same dashing smile that lit up every room, his charming confidence, his small quirks. The way he drummed his fingers against the table without realizing, the way he tilted his head when he was curious, the way he filled a room with energy without even trying. He was a copy of the man who broke you. 

But not his eyes, no, those were yours. Johnny let you have one thing, at least. 

The only thing missing was the fire. Thank God for that. He never needed flames to shine. At only five years old, his restless curiosity had already outgrown the classrooms around him. Teachers threw around words like gifted and advanced classes, ones that carried dollar signs heavy enough to scare you. You worked extra hours tutoring in the afternoon to afford his tuition in a private school, even picked up shifts at the local bar on weekends, while your lovely neighbor took care of him. Exhaustion became an everyday thing, but you’d do it a thousand times over if it meant Leo had what he deserved.

You weren’t the same person who left New York. You changed your first name, and picked the same last name as your son for you, Spencer. It seemed stupid when you chose it, being Johnny’s second surname and all, but you weren’t really thinking clearly when you did. At least it had helped you tremendously to share it with Leo when it came to signing him up in the advanced programs. It kept people away from making questions since there wasn’t a “father” in the picture. They could only assume he’d divorced you or died. 

It was a place where gossip ran like water, after all. 

Your one story house wasn’t that big, but it was yours. White paint on the porch railing, a garden you kept stubbornly alive, shelves lined with books you actually had time to read again. At night you’d sit on the steps with a mug of tea, watching your son chase fireflies across the yard, laugh bubbling while telling you facts about their wings. 

You’d built this life with your own two hands, out of nothing. You did it with a broken heart, with one truth you carried quietly, tucked deep inside your chest. 

I’m never going to love again.

People tried to show their interest in you; a colleague who lingered too long in conversation, a neighbor who offered to fix the leak on your sink when you’d mentioned it, or even the police captain offering you coffee when you passed by the station in the mornings, but you shut the door on all of it with a polite smile. 

The world had taught you what it cost to put your faith in someone else, to hand over your heart and believe they’d protect it. You couldn’t afford to make that mistake again, not when there was a child depending on you. So you forgot about your big city dreams, at least until Leo was able to have his own. You kept your world small, safe, and put caution tape around your heart. 

Miles away, Johnny wasn’t much different. 

Of course he didn’t have to hide behind a fake name, he was still the golden boy of New York, still the Human Torch. Half naked in calendars, covers of magazines and billboards. He’d leaned into the spotlight harder than ever, laughing loud, burning brighter than his flames. 

But beneath it, the void never filled.

Six years, and he never let another woman close. Flirting, sure, he couldn’t help it, but he never took anyone home. It felt like betraying you, even when you betrayed him first. 

It was absurd, really, that he kept burning for a ghost.

He told himself he'd buried you, like Sue told him to. But the wound never closed. So he researched, quietly, secretly. When the others thought he was sleeping, Johnny sat in Reed’s lab going through old files, things that never quite added up. It had started as punishment, as a way to prove to himself that the evidence had been real, that he wasn’t crazy for believing it. But the longer he stared, the more holes he found. Places where the trail was too clean, where it looked too deliberate. 

He didn’t find proof that you’d done it. He was finding proof that he had destroyed you for nothing. 

That’s when he started looking for you. But your name didn’t show up in any database after that September six years ago. You just vanished into smoke slipping from his hands. 

He was supposed to be the fire, to absorb it before it burned everything down. But this time he had to be the one picking up the ashes left behind, one by one. 

And every night he whispered the same prayer to the stars, let me find something. Let me find her.

And it's been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong

I'm right where you left me

March.

You spent your afternoons tutoring, guiding your students the way you’d wished someone did for you when you were younger. Every bright mind that walked through your door had the potential, you just showed them what they could do with it. 

But some shone brighter than others, like this girl Kate. The darkest long hair, a sharp gaze and even a sharper mind. The kind of mind you recognized instantly. Restless, unable to settle for easy answers. She deserved more than the small town college could give her, and more than you could give her, if you were honest. 

Now, one of the many things The Fantastic Four contributed to the world were their academic programs. Opportunities, grants, financial aid, internships were all part of the things someone could earn through them. Of course, you had to be brave enough to even apply in the first place, and compete with millions of ‘exceptional’ applicants across the globe. 

You had once been brave enough to, and felt like you won the lottery when it landed you an internship with…them.

We all know how that story went. In the end, you lost the game of chances. But maybe Kate would play her cards better. So one day, pushing past your fears and your own trauma, you talked to her about the program that changed your life many moons ago. 

“Have you ever thought about applying to the Fantastic Four First Steps Program?”

Her head snapped up from her notebook, eyes wide. “Me? No way. I mean…that’s for geniuses, right? Not many people get in, only the people from the big cities.”

You smiled softly, even though your chest ached at the name. Fantastic Four. You hadn’t said it out loud in years; it was exiled from your vocabulary the way they’d exiled you. You never thought you’d send another person into that world ever again, but your experiences shouldn’t tarnish the ones others could have. So, even if the words tasted bitter in your mouth, you forced yourself to go on. 

“Kate, that program was built for minds like yours, no matter where you apply from. I seriously think you could get in, I wouldn’t tell you if I didn’t.”

She hesitated; she had heard of other people from the college applying, but she thought they were crazy for even considering it, since no one from there ever got accepted. “Well, but…even if I could, which would be crazy…would I even belong in places like that?”

God, how many times had you asked yourself the same thing?

“Listen to me. You belong anywhere your brain can take you. And if you’re worried about the application, I’ll help you, I know what it takes to get in. You don’t have to do it alone.” You reassured, and after some consideration, she finally nodded.

You let out the part ‘because once, I was in’. Because once, those halls were your home. Because once, your whole life had unraveled on the top floor of that tower. But that was a long time ago, and you were starting to live for the hope of it all once again. 

Maybe life would be kinder to her the way it couldn’t be with you. 

So you both worked on her application right away. Crafted it perfectly. It wasn’t a hard task, since she was brilliant and her scores backed her up. You just helped her polish everything, keeping your name out of it, and soon her file was mailed to New York. 

It's been a long time

And seeing the shape of your name

Still spells out pain

October.

Johnny had been sent to represent the family at the Fantastic Four First Steps Program Showcase. Where dozens of students made a presentation on the projects they’d been working on since they got into the program. 

He arrived just in time, wearing a leather jacket over a fancy button down, and the most inappropriate pair of tight pants he found that day. 

“Family representation, Johnny." Sue had said that morning, shoving the itinerary into his hands. “Behave, pay attention, and ask questions.” 

And he tried, he really did…at first. 

But by hour two, saying he was bored wasn’t even enough. He still clapped when everyone else clapped, smiled when a camera panned at him, even threw a wink or two when someone in the audience managed to get his attention. 

He just had to hold on for another half an hour. Then he could sneak out, text Sue “great event!” and pretend he’d been deeply moved by the future of scientific innovation.

He wasn’t even looking at the stage when the next student walked up. Kate Bishop, the host announced. Another young person with a bright future and a nervous smile. Johnny didn’t even notice the accent in her voice or the way her hands trembled holding the slide pointer to the huge screen behind her. His gaze was fixed on the watch on his wrist, until her presentation came to an end. 

“…and I wouldn’t even be here today if it weren’t for my mentor, my professor back home,” Kate was saying. “She pushed me to apply, even when I didn’t think I could make it.”

Johnny looked up absentmindedly, he was ready to clap and give a thumbs up as if he heard the whole thing, but his hands stopped midair when he saw the slide change. 

There you were. On the screen.

Standing in a college lab, radiant as ever, the sunlight from the big windows pouring over your shoulder. The girl on stage was smiling next to you, her head tilted slightly in your direction. Your hand rested on her project model. You looked proud, happy, alive.

You. It was you.

Johnny couldn't clap, smile, or even breathe. He forgot where he was, forgot the rows of interns, the attention from the audience, the cameras pointed at him. The entire world narrowed to that glowing projection of you.

He hadn’t seen you in six years. Not in memories that didn’t hurt. Not even in photographs because Sue had locked them away in your room. His heart started to race, too fast, too painful. He felt it everywhere, in the edge of his ribs, in his throat, his ears.

All he could see was your smile frozen on that screen. The same smile that used to undo him every single day.

“The project began with her, back home in Georgia. She taught me that even if people don’t believe in you, you have to believe in the impact you’ll leave behind.”

Johnny squinted, trying to read the caption under the picture.

Professor Spencer and student Kate Bishop. Thomasville, Georgia. 

Spencer. Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm.

You took his name. His second surname.

You’d vanished, built a life, a reputation. And you chose somewhere quieter, smaller, far from him, far from the city that ruined you. You built yourself back up, became a new person, and still took his name.

But Johnny didn’t have time to spiral, because for the first time in six years, he didn’t just have a ghost, he had a trail. He had a location now. 

Thomasville, Georgia.

He had to find you.

Johnny left the conference building in a blaze of golden fire, without even saying goodbye to anyone, and went back to the Tower.

He stumbled into his room, slamming the door behind him, the rush of adrenaline burning through his shaking hands. He went straight to his nightstand, pulling out the last piece of you he kept, the only one Sue couldn't take away from him because he’d hid it.

Your watch.

He paced the length of his room, the watch clutched tight in his hand, muttering under his breath like that would help calm the storm inside him.

“Six years,” he whispered. “Six years and I finally found you.”

He pressed his palms against his face, but in the middle of his frenzy, the watch slipped from his grasp. It clattered to the floor with a sharp crack, metal case popping open, tiny pieces scattering over his carpet. 

“Fuck…”

He dropped to his knees, scooping the pieces up, but stopped over something that didn’t look like it belonged there. He picked it up carefully, staring at a tiny silver chip, glinting under the light coming from the large windows. It didn’t have the blue number four Reed stamped everything with. 

What the hell…

He scooped the rest of the pieces from your watch, and set them on his bed. Then, without even giving it a second thought, he took off his own watch and closed his eyes as he slammed it against the floor. The casing burst open just like yours, gears and metal scattering on the floor. But all he saw were pieces that were meant to be there, stamped with the tiniest four emblem. No weird chip. 

“No, no, no…” He shook his head, looking all around the carpet to see if he missed it coming out of his watch. But he found nothing. 

He needed answers now.

Johnny didn’t remember running through the halls. His chest burned, and his vision blurred. By the time he burst into Reed’s lab, he was gasping, eyes wet, the small chip clutched safely in his hand. 

“Reed–Reed, I need you to look at this!” 

Sue jumped in her spot, and sat up straighter from where she was leaning over some papers. Reed looked up from his work, brows furrowing at Johnny sprinting toward him. 

“Weren’t you at the education summit?” Reed asked, just as Johnny set the chip in front of him.

“I left early.” Johnny shook his head quickly, catching his breath. “This is more important. You need to analyze this. Now.” 

Reed glared at him for a few seconds, but when he noticed the desperation behind Johnny’s pleading eyes, he reached for the chip with a tweezer. Johnny began pacing, raking his hands through his hair, breathing uneven as Reed studied the component carefully. 

“Are you okay?” Sue finally dared to ask, but Johnny didn’t answer.

He turned to Reed. “Well?” He demanded. “It’s not from here, is it?”

Reed ignored him, and set the chip under his scanner. A pulse of blue light ran over it, as Reed pressed keys, analyzing its composition, code structures, searching for anything familiar. When the machine was finally done with the results, Reed leaned back.

“This isn’t ours.” He announced, and Johnny froze in his pacing. “This is advanced nano technology. ” 

“Johnny, where did you even find that?” Sue asked, but was ignored once again by her brother. 

“Are you completely sure it isn't ours?” He pressed. 

“It is not. I am years away from implementing it on our equipment. I’m afraid I don’t have the capability of building something like this here…yet.”

Johnny just stood in silence, his eyes fixed on the chip glowing faintly under the lab lights. 

“The chip…it was in her watch. The one we got the information from when we threw her out.” He explained, quiet anger threaded in every word. “The one she begged us to believe was glitching.”

Sue and Reed exchanged a wide eyed look, they knew exactly who he was talking about. Sue got up to put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, but he turned away. 

“Johnny…”

He slammed his hands against the counter, as tears burned the back of his eyes. “She told us. She told us something was wrong, and we didn’t listen. We just–we believed the files instead of her.”

Reed’s expression hardened as he looked back at the chip. His mind piecing everything together. “Nano technology is extremely dangerous. Someone must have embedded it on her device when she was out in the city, stole her information and then transferred the breach into it to cover their tracks. To make it look like the leak came from her.”

“Oh my god,” Sue gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“This…this could have been planted on any of our watches. But whoever did this chose hers.” Reed added. 

“Because she wasn’t blood.” Sue shook her head. 

“Because she wasn’t officially one of us, which would make it more believable to us.” 

Johnny turned furious toward Reed when he heard that. “She was part of the family! At least back then she was. Don’t you dare imply she wasn’t.”

“Johnny, I’m not implying anything. I’m just trying to reason on how this happened–” 

“We let her take the fall, that’s what happened! You let me believe it was her, when she was innocent!” Johnny snapped, pointing accusingly at him. Reed opened his mouth to argue, but Johnny didn’t even let him speak. “How did that chip get past you? You got all the information of the breach from her watch. How come you didn’t see that?”

That’s when Sue decided to step in. “Johnny, we had no idea. None of us did. There was so much evidence, you saw it.” She reached out, her hand hovering near his arm. “We can only hope to forgive ourselves for believing–”

“Forgive ourselves?” Before she could reach him he recoiled, staggering back offended. “How can I forgive myself? Tell me that, Sue. How can I fucking forgive myself?” His voice cracked. 

That was the moment Johnny couldn’t hold it in anymore. He leaned over the counter, palms supporting him as his eyes drowned in tears with the heartbreaking realization that it wasn’t you. It had never been you.

And he found that out six years late.

Six years of feeling guilty for not hating you. Six years of burying you. Of forcing himself to believe that you were the one who had cut them open, who had put Franklin at risk, who had taken everything they built and sold it out. All those years, all that evidence, the betrayal they’d carved into your name, was a lie. Someone had planted it. Someone had turned the watch he gave you into a weapon against you. 

And he believed it. 

He thought he knew pain before, the loss of his mother, the terrifying day that changed his life on that space mission. But this was a different kind of pain. Because those other things he could have never foreseen, or prevented. But this? He didn’t keep you safe, didn’t protect you, just let you take the blame.

And he could never undo what he’d done to you. This was a fire he ignited himself, a fire he’d let consume you. 

Sue walked over to him, her face pale at the sight of endless tears streaking down her brother’s cheeks. She placed a hand on his shoulder hesitantly, expecting to be rejected once again, but instead stumbled backwards when Johnny turned around and wrapped his arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder. Sue’s eyes swelled with tears too as her brother cried uncontrollably, clinging to her for dear life.

She let him get it all out, one arm hugging him tightly and the other lifted to stroke his hair, just like when he was a kid. Reed just watched in silence, guilt sinking deep into his bones with every sob that echoed in the lab. Johnny was right. He should’ve seen it, he should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt instead of making them think you would do something like that. He hadn't just failed you, he’d failed his entire family.

Johnny’s tears finally came to a stop after what felt like forever, his chest heaved with leftover hiccups. He pulled back from Sue, running his hands violently through his soaked face. He sniffed a few times, gaze lowering on the floor, hands on his hips.

“I let her walk out with nothing. I watched her beg me to believe her and I–” His voice cracked again, but he pressed his palms to his eyes. “I didn’t, Sue. I didn't. For six fucking years I let her believe we hated her.”

“Johnny, we can’t change the past.” Her voice softened, she wiped her own tears with a napkin Reed pulled out from his shirt. “All we have is the now–”

“Now? Now she’s in some small town, working in a community college when she should’ve had the world with us. We stole her future from her.”

That made Reed’s head snap up. “Wait–you know where she is?” 

“Johnny, you found her?” Sue asked, just as surprised. 

Johnny nodded, sighing. “I saw her–not in person. This girl from the program, Kate, showed a picture of her in her presentation today. Said she was her professor at the community college back home.” He sniffed as he forced himself to go on. “In Thomasville. A town in Georgia, she’s there.”

Sue stepped closer, her arms crossed in her chest. “Then we have to fix it.”

She got startled by Johnny’s bitter laughter. “Fix it? How the hell do you fix six years? How do you fix letting someone you love think you hated them?” He shook his head. “I love her, I never stopped. And now I don’t even know if she’d even look at me, let alone forgive me.”

Reed sighed, walking over to Johnny. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and spoke to him the way he did when Johnny was younger. “Maybe it’s not about forgiveness, Johnny. Maybe it’s about the truth. About giving her back what was stolen.” He looked over to the chip, regret flickering through his calm voice. 

“So now we try. It doesn't matter if it’s too late.” Sue added. “And it has to be you. It doesn't matter if she slams the door in your face. You try, Johnny, you have to.”

Reed nodded. “We can’t undo what we did. But we can stop letting her carry it alone.”

Johnny stood there, comforted by his sister who’d always been his mother figure, and Reed who, no matter how much they bickered everyday, had also always been there for him in ways only a father could. 

He didn’t know if it was possible, he didn’t know what came next. But he knew he had to try. 

He was coming to get you. 

Guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea

That you put between you and me

Thomasville, Georgia, was quiet that sunny Sunday morning.

Church bells rang in the distance, families walked out of diners with paper bags of pancakes, the people on the streets moving at that slow pace that belonged to small towns.

Johnny Storm had never felt more out of place.

He could’ve flown there. Part of him wanted to, he loved traveling in that fast, fiery streak across the sky. But he couldn’t risk it. If the news caught him flying in some random town instead of New York and you saw it, you might vanish before he ever got close, and he couldn’t lose you again. So he flew into the nearest big city instead, rented a shiny black pickup truck that in his head looked appropriate for his trip, and drove for hours to your town across red, yellow and orange trees with the windows down, letting the autumn air cool down the heat gnawing inside him. 

He hadn't been able to find your address on public records, so he chose to start by the community college first. The campus was almost empty that Sunday, only a few students lingered by the library steps. He stepped down his huge pickup with sunglasses on, the less flashy pair he owned, and a cap to cover his distinct blond hair. Johnny kept his head down, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, slipping past unnoticed. 

The directory board near the main entrance gave him what he needed. Your office number. He dodged a custodian pushing a cart, and ducked past a pair of students glued to their books. His heart pounded louder with every turn until finally, he found it.

The office.

The door was unlocked, strangely enough since there was no one inside. But when he stepped in, he understood why. The space was…bare. If your name wasn’t on the door, he would've thought no one worked there. He saw a desk, a neat stack of papers on it, and a clean chalkboard. No photos. No plants. No little trinkets to claim the space as yours.

Johnny closed the door softly behind him, his chest aching as his eyes traced the emptiness. There was no warmth, no spark of you. It was efficient, practical, almost…detached. Like you could walk away without leaving a trace. And Johnny realized, with a sick twist of his stomach, that your trauma had a shape. Four walls, stripped bare, a life lived like you might vanish again tomorrow.

“You never let yourself settle,” Johnny whispered to the empty room.

Because six years ago, they had made you leave your home with nothing. Because you had learned the hard way that belonging could be ripped away overnight. The guilt pressed down harder on his chest, almost suffocating. Johnny shoved those feelings away, he was on a mission to try to fix all of that. 

He rounded your desk, and checked the papers on it first. Faculty memos, notes, nothing relevant. His hands went through the drawers, he found more notes, a few bags of snacks, and finally, a folded bill, with your address printed clear at the top.

“Bingo,” he grinned. 

He shoved it in his pocket, then tugged at the next drawer but nothing happened, it was locked. He grinned wider, because if there was anything Johnny Storm liked, was sticking up his nose where he shouldn't. And he’d known you long enough to remember you used to hide things in plain sight. All he had to do was scan the desk until he found a small key tucked inside a pencil holder. 

Typical.

At first, it was nothing remarkable. Just research notes, class grades, tests drafts. But then his hand found envelopes tucked deeper. He pulled them out, and found letters with your handwriting, but no stamps, no addresses. Letters that were never meant to be sent. But his brow furrowed when he noticed his name on the first one.

My Johnny.

He flipped to the next. 

Dear Johnny.

Then the next.

Johnny.

And then the last one. 

For him.

You wrote to him, even when there was no hope, even when he was never going to read them. He clutched the envelopes, his heart fracturing when he realized he went from being called yours to someone you couldn't name anymore, not even on paper. 

He took a deep breath, ready to read what the first one said, but before he could take out the folded letter out of the envelope, the doorknob rattled.

He didn’t even have time to panic. He shut the drawer in a rush, and dropped down to his knees with the stack of the envelopes clutched tightly against his chest, crawling under the desk just as the door creaked open. The sound of heavy footsteps filled the room. Someone was walking up to the desk. Was it you? 

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God–

“Yeah, I’m in your office now,” a man’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Where’s that document you said you needed?”

Johnny’s eyes went wide. That man seemed to be on the phone. With you. He couldn’t make out clearly what you were saying, not from where he crouched, but the knowledge that you were there, so close, closer than you’d been in six years, nearly made him throw up. 

That, and also the fact that someone was on the other side of the desk and if they decided to round it, they would find the Human Torch hiding like a fucking thief.

The man hummed at whatever your response was, rifling through the stack of papers on top of the desk until he found it. “Ah, here. You owe me, Professor.” He chuckled. 

And then, faint but unmistakable, Johnny heard your laugh carrying from the other side of the line. God, he’d forgotten what it sounded like. Six years apart, and the first time he heard your laugh again, it wasn’t for him.

“Lucky for you, I was passing by campus today.” He said. Then his voice shifted, to a more playful tone Johnny knew too well. “By the way…have you thought about that coffee yet?”

Johnny stiffened under the desk. The man had an ease to him, the kind of thing that wasn’t forced. He wasn’t pushing, just…trying. He leaned closer so he could hear what you said to that. And that’s when he heard it again, your laugh. Like he was the funniest man alive, and it twisted Johnny’s insides. 

“John, I’m always flattered with the offer.”

John? Another John?

Jealousy wasn't something Johnny had felt in a long time. But at that moment, a million questions popped in his head in a matter of seconds. 

Who was he? How did you know him? Why did you ask for his help? Why were you laughing so much? Was he blond too? What car did he drive–

“But you know I’m busy, so I’m going to–”

“...Reject me, I know, I know.” John finished your sentence, and laughed under his breath, almost like he was expecting it. Johnny had to cover his mouth before he sighed in relief. “I’m used to it. But it's always worth a try, though.”

Always??

Before Johnny could lose it under that desk, it seemed like this “John” was finally about to leave, but stopped midway. “This may sound weird, but your office feels too…warm. I know it’s autumn, but how much do you crank up the heating?” He snorted, looking around the room.

Johnny cursed in his head. He hadn't even realized his temperature had risen significantly with all the jealousy. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, though.

“Huh, yeah, that’s weird. I always turn it off when I’m not there. Must be your imagination.” You joked.

“Or your voice,” John flirted. If you could even call that flirting, in Johnny’s very humble opinion. He grimaced, and thankfully, you protested too. “Alright, alright sorry. Let me get this to you and I’ll be out of your way.” He joked. 

“Okay…thank you, Captain Walker.” 

Captain Walker? Why did that sound flirty? Why did “John” laugh at that? Was it an inner joke? Was he an actual captain?

Johnny had to see this man right now.

But before he could spiral any further and create scenarios in his head, the line clicked off. He held his breath, waiting for the man to leave. Finally, the footsteps shifted toward the door, and Johnny couldn’t stop himself. He tucked the four envelopes on the inside of his jacket, and then he lifted himself up just enough to peek over the desk. 

He couldn’t see his face as he walked away, but with the way he carried himself, he was probably handsome. His hair was darker than Johnny’s but still blond, most likely with the same blue eyes to match. Taller, broader, the kind of frame that filled a doorway without trying. He wore a dark red flannel shirt rolled at the sleeves, worn jeans, and brown cowboy boots. The outfit screamed southern man on a Sunday.

Finally, the guy left the office, leaving him alone again.

Johnny should’ve been glad you’d turned him down, at least for a moment he was. The thought that you’d smiled politely, laughed softly, and still said no soothed the part of him that was still in love with you.

The guy seemed kind, and didn't really come off as a creep. He was a captain, apparently. He sucked at flirting, according to Johnny, but you seemed to laugh genuinely at his attempts…you seemed comfortable. Now Johnny only knew him from that short interaction, but he felt like the type of guy who looked steady, rooted…safe. The type of man who looked like he belonged there. 

The type of man you would've said yes to.

But something gnawed at the back of his head. The delusional part of himself thought that maybe you’d rejected that guy because you still remembered him. But then, the darker part of him whispered in his ear that it was actually because of what he did to you, and you couldn't risk another heartbreak.

The same way you didn’t seem to get attached to spaces, like your office, maybe you didn’t let yourself get attached to people either.

Johnny’s heart pounded in his chest as he drove to your home. He didn’t really have a plan…or words. What could he say after six years? What could possibly fit into a sentence when what he did to you should be a lifetime of apologies?

All he knew was that he had to see you. 

When he finally turned down your street, the world seemed to slow. It was a beautiful place, for sure. Orange leaves fell from the trees lining up the street, landing in the gardens of the houses. It was quiet around, yet it looked so lived in. Johnny parked a few houses down, and he sat there for a long moment, just staring at his shaking hands. He finally gathered the courage to get out of the car, and looked for the house with the same number he found in the bill he got from your office. He finally found it, and he stood right in front of it. 

Your home.

A single story painted in soft baby blue with a beautiful porch. A little rocking white bench sat out front, and plants that looked cared for lined the steps in mismatched pots. 

You built this, he thought. Without us. Without me.

Each step to the porch felt heavier, like he was walking straight into a storm. He ran his hand over the wooden railing, steadying himself, letting the softness of the blue paint calm him down. He paused at the door, looking down at the doormat that said Welcome! 

He chuckled nervously under his breath, but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Right by the door, there were two pairs of rainboots. One black, the other shiny red. It would've been a normal thing, if it wasn't for the fact that the red ones looked too small to belong to you. Johnny tilted his head, but the nerves running through his body didn’t really let him think clearly. So he just shrugged it off. Maybe some kid from the neighbors had left them there. It seemed like the type of neighborhood where everyone knew everyone and everyone shared everything. 

He took one last deep breath, and finally knocked on your door. 

The time is near

What would he do if he found us out?

He's gonna burn this house to the ground

The knock that would change your life echoed through the quiet of the house. You finished slipping your sports shoes on, frowning at the sound. Sunday afternoons were calm, Leo was already at the neighbor’s so you didn't get interrupted as you got ready for your shift at the bar. You weren’t expecting anyone.

And when you opened the creaky wood door, you certainly weren’t expecting Johnny Storm to be standing right outside the mesh screen.

It felt like a bucket of ice water just got dumped on you. 

The last rays of golden sunlight hit him perfectly, catching on that familiar blonde hair you saw everyday on a smaller version of him. Your eyes went over the sharp lines of his face, ones you had spent years trying to erase from your memory. It was him, without a doubt. A few years older. Real. But somehow missing that boyish spark you were so used to seeing on him.

For a moment you didn’t move, you didn’t breathe, you couldn’t even if you tried. It felt like the air had been stolen right out of your lungs.

And Johnny? He was no different. Because even though he knew he was seeing you that day, he wasn’t prepared for this version of you. The one whose eyes told him you were still haunted by everything he had taken away from you. And you were so real, not a memory, not a brief visit in his dreams, not a picture on a presentation yet he looked at you like he’d seen a ghost.

Because that’s what you were, his ghost, his lost six years.

The mesh door separated you like a thin wall, but the weight of lost time pressed through it. Your face was stunned, eyes wide like you were seeing death itself. Because that’s what he was to you.

But this time what died didn’t stay dead, and it was standing on your porch, right in front of you. 

The pain of it all hit you immediately, like it never left. You remembered the way he’d said everything all those years ago, his voice harsh and determined. Words that had followed you through every lonely night, every rock of your baby’s cradle, every time you told yourself you’d never trust again.

And now he dared to show up at the house you built with the bricks they threw at you.

Your heart rushed, panic replacing your anger. The only thought racing in your head was Leo. He came for Leo. He found you somehow, and now he was going to take your son away.

“J…” Your voice broke trying to say his name; it had been buried in your throat for years. But saying it felt wrong, unnatural, like dragging open an old wound. 

His own breath hitched, his eyes getting glassy before he could stop them. “God…” He whispered. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You stared at him as if he might vanish like he always did in your dreams. He would be doing you a favor anyways, you’d much rather be safe and stranded, than giving someone the chance to hurt you again. 

Your fingers gripped the edge of the doorframe to ground you, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them, sharp and defensive. 

“What are you doing here?”

Johnny flinched, just slightly, like the sound of your voice had cut him. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said softly. “For a long time.”

Your stomach twisted. Panic and fury knotted together in your chest, and you shook your head. “You shouldn’t have.”

He took a small step closer, seeing the fire in your eyes, yet still he dared to ask. “Can I…come in? Please. We need to talk.”

“I don’t think you should.” The answer came firm, unhesitant. 

The firmness in your voice startled even you. His face fell, taken aback, like he hadn’t expected you to stand so solid, to draw a line in the sand. Six years ago, you’d begged. Six years ago, you’d folded under the weight of their disbelief.

But not anymore.

Johnny cleared his throat, his voice breaking as he tried again. “Just–just a conversation. I swear. We really need to talk.”

For a moment, you wanted to shut the door. To bolt it and keep the small, safe world you’d built intact. But his eyes…always those eyes. Wide, glassy, unguarded. And against every instinct, against every scar, you found yourself unlatching the mesh door. It creaked open, and you stepped aside.

Johnny crossed the threshold like he was walking into another world.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him standing awkwardly in the small living room. Johnny’s eyes darted everywhere at once, taking it all in. The scent of lemon freshness, the warmth of afternoon light across your light cream walls, the faint clutter of everyday life, papers stacked on the table, faint scuff marks on the wooden floor, a blanket folded neatly on the couch. It wasn’t the Baxter Building. It wasn’t glass and striking colors and grandeur. It was a home. Your home.

And Johnny Storm stood in the middle of it, stunned, feeling like he had no right to breathe the same air.

“You can uh…sit,” you said quietly, gesturing to the couch near the door, trying to keep him from looking closer and finding something that could hint at a child living in the house. 

He obeyed without question, lowering himself onto the cushions. They sank beneath his weight, too soft, too comfortable. Nothing like the Baxter couches, firm, pristine. This one probably carried the wear and tear of movie nights and lazy weekends. He wasn’t sure the last time he had something like that. Still, no matter how comfy, Johnny sat stiffly, hands clasped trying not to fidget.

You hovered nearby, nervous, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Do you…want something to drink?”

For a second, he softened. The offer was familiar, like the ghost of old times when you’d fuss over whether he wanted a soda or coffee before turning into your assistant for long nights in the lab. His lips twitched, almost a smile, but the nerves won out.

“No. I’m fine.” He said, voice awkward.

You crossed your arms, finally steadying yourself enough to meet his gaze. “Then say what you came to say. I don’t really have much time.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I have to go to work.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Work? On a Sunday night? Classes aren’t–“

“It’s not college. I have something else on the weekends.” You didn’t elaborate further, you didn’t need to.

Something in his chest sank, knowing you had another job, a side job. You, who once had the whole future wide open in the palm of your hand, who got everything promised when you were selected to work on Reed’s lab, becoming one of them, now pulling late shifts somewhere just to make ends meet.

Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat, understanding without you spelling it out. You needed the income. The silence stretched until it strangled him, until he couldn’t keep those words inside anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, then leaned forward, voice already breaking. “I’m so goddamn sorry for everything. For not believing you. For letting you walk out of that tower like you were nothing when you were–when you were everything. I know it wasn’t you. I know now.”

Words…how little they mean, when they’re a little too late. 

Johnny dragged a shaking hand down his face when you just blinked at him. “I found the root of the leak…some nano chip that was hidden inside your watch. I know you told us–you said it was glitching, that it wasn’t you. Someone planted it there, got your information and used you to cover their tracks. And we–” He stopped for a moment to breathe, to steady his voice. “We let them. We handed you over without a fight. I–I did.”

Hearing Johnny say those words should’ve made you jump into his arms and kiss the tears away. Should’ve shattered you into granting him the sweet light of your forgiveness. Six years ago, you would have. Six years ago, you would have fallen to your knees just to hear them, would’ve clung to the smallest scrap of his belief.

It was the apology you had begged for in the dark, the one you had prayed might come. For years, you had whispered those words into your pillow, written them down in letters addressed to the fire, waited for the day he would arrive and tell you what you already knew.

But that day never came.

Not until the years had worn the edge off the pain. Not until you’d forced yourself to move forward. For your sake…for Leo’s. Still, that didn’t make it any easier for you. 

You could see it in him…the wreckage. His eyes wet, voice cracked with regret, chest rising and falling too fast. He was crushed under the same weight you’d carried alone for so long. As his chest ached with the same heartbreak yours once did, you stood still, lips sealed tight, arms crossed to protect yourself. 

That silence killed Johnny. And he had no one else to blame but himself. 

“I should’ve believed you.” His last choked apology came in a whisper, barely audible. 

Johnny stood up from the couch, but didn’t get closer. His fire buzzed under his skin, begging to flare to burn the ache down, but he forced it off. The last thing he wanted was to scorch this place, your place, the home you had built from the ashes he’d left you in.

You swallowed hard when he did, but you said nothing. You didn’t uncross your arms. Didn’t break…not yet. 

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t just look at me like that.”

When you said nothing, again, he staggered back a step, his hands dropping to his sides like he was keeping himself from reaching for you. 

“God, I deserve this,” he mumbled, more to himself. His eyes glistened, fixated on some mark on the floor. “Six years. I–” His throat closed, he had to force his voice out. “Six fucking years, and you won’t even say my name.”

No. You couldn’t. 

“I would’ve died to hear those words back then.”

His head snapped up. The sound of your voice, steady but laced with ache, tore through him like fire.

You shook your head, a bitter laugh made its way out. “I waited…God, I waited. For you to reach out, for any of you to show up at my door and say you didn’t believe it, that you hadn’t given up on me. But nothing came.”

Johnny’s lips parted, eyes wide, but this time it was him reeling in silence.

“I wrote letters,” you whispered, arms still crossed. “Letters addressed to no one. Words I knew you’d never read…just so I could breathe. Just so I could put the pain somewhere.”

Tears clouded Johnny’s eyes, he could almost feel the papers in your hands, the ghost of your handwriting spelling his name. My Johnny. Dear Johnny. For him. 

The last one when you couldn’t even withstand the thought of his name anymore. 

“And still…I couldn’t make it go away by making you the villain. I tried–believe me I did, because out of all of them I expected you to be the one to stand by me. But you just–” Your voice faltered when tears finally found their way out of your eyes. “You didn’t believe me.”

The little sobs you tried to muffle with your hand were unbearable for him. For a moment, he looked like he might collapse under the weight of your words, but he pushed through. He had to make you understand his side of the story. 

“I didn’t give up on you, not at first.” He said, words coming out desperate. “I studied it…in secret. Every night, I went over the reports, the logs, everything I could get my hands on. I couldn’t–God, I wouldn’t believe it. Not you. Not the girl who lived in the tower with us, who was family, who was…who was everything to me.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, pacing once before turning back toward you. “But the evidence was there, every file, every trace led back to things only you would know, and I was too blind to see past that. But all this time–” He reached into his jacket, fingers brushing the broken edges of your old watch. “It was sitting on my nightstand…the proof–that fucking chip inside your watch. It was right there all along…and I didn’t see it until six years too late.”

The revelation that he kept your watch on his nightstand shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. He’d kept a piece of you close to him…next to him. Yet still, he decided you weren’t worth the benefit of the doubt. 

“The problem,” you said dryly, “is that you needed the evidence at all. If you’d just listened to me–” Your voice cracked, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “If you’d just trusted me back then, everything would be different today.”

“I wanted to,” he rasped, too unsteady, too quickly. “God, I wanted to believe you more than anything. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to choose my heart over proof and I hate myself for that…I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment, then shook your head. “You’re asking for something I can’t give you now,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I ever can.”

“I’ll take it.” He whispered back, wiping the tears away with the back of his sleeve. “Whatever you’ll give me, I’ll take it. I just needed you to know I was sorry. That I was wrong.”

Silence stretched, until you finally forced yourself to ask what you’ve been dying to know since you saw him at your doorstep, your arms tightening across your chest. 

“How did…how did you even find me?”

Your stomach twisted, braced for the answer you feared most. That he wasn’t here for you at all. That the apology was just some excuse. That he was here to rip Leo from your arms, to take the only piece of safety you had left.

“Through one of your students…Kate. She showed a photo at a presentation. You were there…next to her.” He explained. “I thought I’d gone insane. I thought I was seeing ghosts. But it was you.”

Kate.

Shit.

You swallowed hard. It had been you who’d told her to apply, who’d guided her steps closer to the program you should’ve kept far away from. You had been so careful with her application, keeping your name out of it, yet it was a variable you couldn't control that made your face find its way back to him. 

It still felt like your fault. 

The walls of the house suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier, warmer but not in a good way. Suffocating. For six years you’d kept yourself invisible, careful to erase every trace, and now you’d been found…because of your own slip.

Johnny saw the realization hit your features. Your frantic eyes told him how much you didn’t want to be found, how he was considered a danger to the little world you lived in now, and it ripped his heart more. He took a shaky step back, his hands half raised like he needed to show he wasn’t a threat. 

“God, I knew it. After everything I did, after what we put you through, of course you don’t want me here…and you don’t owe me anything, but I’ll take whatever scraps you’ll give me. Just–” He ran his hands through his already messy hair. “…Just don’t be afraid of me.”

You just stood there, letting your gaze drift over him. His posture a little heavier, his face more lined, but still so unmistakably Johnny Storm. Still handsome in that way that made your stomach twist…like seeing an ex. 

And the resemblance…God. It was astounding.

Your throat tightened as your eyes flicked from his face to the memory of your son’s. The same blond hair, the same damn smile when he was feeling mischievous. Leo was a mirror of him, down to quirks he didn’t even know he shared.

You knew if Johnny looked too long into your eyes, he might see the fear was not for you, but for Leo. So you forced yourself to blink, to pull the thought back into the cage where it belonged. Johnny didn’t know. Couldn’t know. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” you said at last, steadying your voice. “It’s just…shocking. Seeing you after all these years.” 

“Yeah…feels the same way for me.”

For a moment, Johnny let himself breathe, let himself believe just being there with you was enough, that he’d gotten farther than he thought he would. He sat back down on the couch, trying to steady himself from the weight of it all, but the silence stretched, and something gnawed at him. A pang in his chest, a whisper at the back of his mind.

Something was missing.

He tore his gaze from you, eyes drifting quickly across the place like answers might be hiding in the corners. It wasn’t like the tower, not polished, not curated. This house showed it was lived in. The open small kitchen was the room that first caught his eye. On the breakfast counter that faced the living room, three different kinds of cereal sat half open. A small wooden stool sat beneath the sink on the counter by the window, and in the drying rack, a mug and an orange plastic cup with a built-in straw sat side by side. A metal lunchbox was nearby, plain, blue, nothing flashy, but it didn’t quite fit as yours alone.

That’s when he remembered the tiny boots at the entrance. Everything lined up too perfectly, too unmistakable. Johnny came to the conclusion that someone else shared this space with  you. Someone with smaller steps, different routines than a normal person…it was a family’s home, without a doubt. Johnny’s chest tightened, and his eyes darted again, searching for just one more clue…

And then he saw it.

By the small tv center, half hidden in the corner, a toy box. Brightly painted, clearly well loved by the scratches on it. From the top poked the unmistakable shape of a toy car, the front wheels worn from too many races across the floor. His eyes widened, locked on the toy poking out, his entire body going still.

You followed his line of sight, dread flooding through your body. He’d seen it.

The toy. The truth. And you knew in that second there was no taking it back.

Johnny’s gaze stayed fixed on the little car. He didn’t say it right away…he couldn’t. The truth pressed the back of his throat, suffocating, but if he spoke it aloud, it would be real. So instead, he gaslighted himself for a little longer, forcing his voice to come out.

“Didn’t know you had a nephew,” he said, nodding faintly toward the corner. “Guess I missed a lot.”

It was subtle, almost casual, not accusatory. But you could hear the crack beneath the words, the real intention under his tone. He was pretending not to know. Pretending, maybe for both your sakes.

You hesitated, lips parting before closing again, thinking you could lie. You could nod and let him believe it, let the moment slip away. But his eyes…God, his eyes were already on you, glistening, waiting for you to tell the truth he couldn't. 

“It’s not a nephew.” Was all you said. 

No lie. Not the full truth either.

And what once was a forgotten night of too many drinks between two idiots in love, turned into two strangers, standing inches apart, knowing damn well what that child was.

Johnny pushed up from the couch, his legs unsteady but determined. He couldn’t sit any longer, he needed to be closer. To force that truth face to face. But when he stepped closer to you, his eyes caught on something on the corner of his eye.

A wall that led to a hallway, covered in frames. He drifted toward it instinctively, drawn like a moth to flame.

You moved quickly, your hand half reaching for his arm to stop him, his name tumbling out of your lips in desperation. “Johnny–”

But he pushed past you, and soon was standing there. Right in front of the wall of photographs. Dozens of them. A curated display of moments of a little kid. 

A newborn in a hospital blanket, tiny fists curled tight. A toddler, grinning wide as frosting smeared his cheeks at a birthday table, a number two on the cake. A four year old, probably, holding up a plant with proud little hands. And the one where he looked the oldest, standing proudly next to an experiment with a “winner” badge at a science fair. It could’ve been that same week for all he knew. And multiple more, across all stages of his little life.

The kid’s face looked back at him like a mirror from the past. His past. Just younger, innocent. Same hair, same smile, same spark. He reached out, fingertips shaking as they hovered over the glass.

All the paths led there. To that house. To that wall. To that smile.

To you.

Johnny’s mind went to that gala night. That one damn night. Too much champagne, too much fire, laughter and kisses that blurred into a night he could never forget. But it had been just one. One night you'd both decided it was a mistake, an impulse, a result of recklessness. 

And yet here, before his eyes, was proof of everything that night had left behind.

“God…” he whispered, barely audible.

An entire childhood he had missed.

Your son.

His–?

Johnny’s hand lingered on the frame. His own reflection in the glass, overlapping with the kid’s smile, and it felt like a cruel trick. His chest heaved, his head spinning.

“No,” he said under his breath, shaking his head. “No, it was…it was just one night.” His voice cracked in denial. “That gala, that was all it was. Just one night.”

His eyes darted across the wall again. Newborn, toddler, child, and every photo twisted the knife deeper. He staggered back a step, and finally, he forced himself to turn to you, his gaze pinning you to the spot.

“Tell me he’s not who I think he is.” He begged. “Please. Tell me I didn’t miss it–tell me I didn’t miss the most important part of your life–” His voice cracked, devastated, “–of mine.”

The plea rattled the air between you, thick with panic, with grief, with the sharp edge of a truth he couldn’t bear to face. His eyes glassy and desperate, burning with fire he couldn’t control, the heat searing just beneath his skin. And you couldn't, for the life of you, say anything. 

“God, please,” he whispered, his throat closing around the words. “Don’t let it be true. Don’t tell me I’ve lost all those years I'll never get back. Don’t tell me he’s–”

He cut himself off, choking on the last word.

And you knew. You knew the cat was out of the bag. No turning back, no denying it, no hiding Leo in the corners of your little world anymore. His father stood right here, breaking, begging you to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Johnny stared at you. He’d begged, he’d pleaded, he’d prayed you’d deny it. That you’d laugh, shake your head, shove him out the door and tell him he was insane. That you went out and had a child with someone who looked exactly like him as revenge. 

But you didn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” Was all you could say. 

He blinked the tears away, and with a shaky exhale he finally claimed what was undoubtedly his. “He’s mine.”

You couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t force the words out. All you could do was nod, slow, aching, like it was tearing you apart to admit it.

“He’s my son,” he said, voice breaking again.

His eyes darted back to the wall of photos, all the years he’d missed staring back at him. Six years of a life he should’ve known. Six years of first steps, first words, laughter, birthdays. Johnny looked like the ground had opened beneath him. Face pale, stunned, his lips parted but no sound came out. Your instincts told you to grab Leo, to run, to keep him safe. But Johnny’s face…it was wrecked. It wasn’t fair for him.

So instead, you grabbed his arm lightly, steadying him, and guided him back toward the couch. He sank into the cushions without resistance, his hands shaking on his knees.

“I’ll get you some water,” you whispered.

You set the glass down in front of him, but he didn’t touch it, just stared through it like it wasn’t there. The shock ran like a chill through his body. 

Johnny was part of a family that had been torn apart when his mother passed. Every time he thought about having his own, he prayed for something complete. Not broken, not tarnished, not…this. Not a son who didn’t know he existed. 

“What’s his name?”

“Leo.” Your voice cracked, so you cleared your throat. “…Spencer.”

There it was. Spencer. 

“When was he born?”

“February 18th," you said quietly.

Johnny’s head snapped up. His head doing the math quicker than he ever thought he could. You must've been around three months when everything went down. 

“You knew,” he said, voice accusing now. “You already knew. Before–before we…” He trailed off, gathering the strength to continue. “Why?” He blurted. “Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?” He shook his head. “It could’ve changed everything. God, you should’ve told me.”

You couldn't even look at him, because you had asked yourself that same question a thousand times in the dark. Your hands twisted together, nails biting into your palms as you forced yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I didn’t tell you because…because before that night, we were nothing,” you said. “Just two idiots who got too drunk and crossed a line. You said it yourself, it was just one night. You joked about it.”

The words tasted like lies, because you knew damn well you were in love with him. Still were, no matter how hard you tried to burn it out of yourself. But it was easier to paint it as nothing than to admit how much of you had always been his.

“And after what happened? After Reed found that so called evidence, after he told me I had to be gone, after you–” Your voice broke, eyes burning. “After you didn't fight for me? I wasn’t going to raise my child in a house that didn’t hesitate to throw me out like I was nothing. I wasn’t going to let my baby live in a place where family turned on me without blinking.”

Johnny just listened, because he didn’t have an argument for that. 

“I wanted him safe,” you mumbled. “Safe in a way I wasn’t. And I tried–I swear to God, Johnny, I tried to tell you when I asked to speak to you. But you wrecked me before I ever got the chance. You wouldn’t even look at me without that look…like I’d betrayed you.”

Your throat closed, but you forced the last words out.

“So I didn’t say anything. Because you didn’t deserve it.”

He realized just how much he’d really lost. Not just six years, not just the kid on the wall, but the pieces of you that he never had the courage to claim as his, long before that night. For a heartbeat he sat frozen, but when his hands went to cover his face, he broke.

The sound just ripped out of him, raw, sobbing. His shoulders hunched forward, his body folding in on itself as if he could hide from the truth but he couldn’t. Not from this. Not from you.

“God, I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve–” He cut himself off, a sob tearing free. “You were right there, and I–I didn’t listen. I didn’t believe–I should’ve fought for you.” Tears streamed hot down his face, his chest heaving. “You tried. And I–” His hands dropped uselessly to his lap.“I destroyed you. I destroyed everything.”

Before he could stop himself, his hand reached out to your figure in front of him. His hand hovered in the air, hesitant, fingers almost brushing yours, asking for something he knew he had no right to.

Still, he asked. “Please. Just let me hold your hand. Just–just for a second. I don’t care if it’s the last time.”

The man who always stood cocky and unshakable in front of the world was reduced to this. Broken, sobbing, begging at your feet for the smallest piece of forgiveness. And in his blue eyes, through the tears, you could see the guy you had loved with all your soul. The guy who had been yours…kind of.

So you let him hold you, just for a moment. Johnny’s warm hand shook against yours, his fingers curling carefully, like he was afraid you’d pull it back if he held too tight. His breathing evened out, his sobs softening until the room fell heavy again with silence. But then his lashes lifted, his eyes still wet as they flicked toward the hallway. 

“…Is he here? In his room?”

Your whole body stiffened, and he felt it with the way your hand tensed against him. 

Johnny took a deep breath, thumb brushing your knuckles as though he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “I just…I need to see him. Please.”

That was when you yanked your hand back, shaking your head profusely. “That’s not happening.”

Johnny froze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“You can’t see him,” you said firmly. “You can’t take him away. He’s all I have, Johnny. The only thing I have.”

And Johnny sat there stunned, gutted that you’d think that, realizing he wasn’t just fighting for your forgiveness anymore, but fighting for the right to see a son he hadn’t even touched.

“No. God–no. I would never take him from you.” He shook his head, pleading for you to believe him. “I swear on everything I am, I would never do that.” He reassured, pressing a hand to his chest. “But I need to see him, please. I have to. He’s mine. He’s my son.”

“But he’s my whole world, Johnny. And I can’t let anyone risk that.” You shook your head, stepping farther away from him.

Johnny couldn’t exactly blame you. He understood where the fear came from, but he’d be damned if he managed to find you and his son only to be told to go back to his life. 

This was his life now.

“I have a right to see him. To know him. To look at his face and not just through pictures on a wall.” He pressed, his eyes searched yours as you forced distance between you. “I’m his father.”

You had spent years building a wall around you and Leo, years convincing yourself you could keep him safe by keeping the world out, by moving to a small town where the Fantastic Four were nothing but big city superheroes. But now Johnny was sitting here, away from his big city, claiming that word like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Father.

Johnny’s lips parted, trying one more time. “I…I don’t want to take him from you. I just want to see him. Please, I’m begging you.”

You wiped at your cheeks quickly, forcing yourself to stand taller even as the word father rang in your ears. You drew in a shaky breath, keeping your tone as steady as you could.

“He’s not here,” you confessed. “My neighbor takes care of him when I’m working late shifts at the bar.”

Johnny blinked. The bar. The image of you, the woman who once lived and laughed in the tower, now pouring beer for drunk men on a Sunday, broke him. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall, your face scowling. “Shit.” You reached to grab your jacket from a chair. “I’m so late. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow if you want to see him.”

You stepped past him, toward the door, until his hand closed around your wrist. The warmth of his touch froze you in place.

“I can’t wait anymore.” His grip on your wrist was not tight, not forceful, just begging. “I’ve already lost so much. Please don’t make me lose another day.”

“Johnny–”

“Don’t go.” His voice cracked as his eyes searched yours. “Please. Don’t go.”

“I can’t just ditch work,” you snapped, panic rising in your throat. “I need it.”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said quickly, desperate. “Whatever it takes, I’ll fix it–I’ll cover it. But please. Not tonight. Not when I just found you again.”

The plea broke something in you. His hand on your wrist, his voice hesitant, the way his eyes begged. Your pride told you to yank your wrist back like you’d done before and tell him no, but the whole encounter had taken a toll on you, and you weren’t sure you could withstand a shift like that. So you exhaled, then finally gave the smallest nod. You pulled your wrist gently from his hand, not harsh, just needing space to breathe. 

“I uh–I need to make a call first,” you announced, and he nodded, stepping back so you could walk to the telephone on the wall.

Johnny watched as you gave him your back, and dialed the number with shaky fingers, the line ringing a few times before someone picked up. By the looks of it, it was your boss most likely, from the way you stumbled over a lie about Leo being sick. Johnny flinched when he heard the scolding from the other side of the line as you mumbled apologies for the short time notice. 

God, he needed to fix all this mess. 

You set the phone back with a sigh, and turned to him. “I’ll bring him home,” you said, then walked closer to him to plead just like he’d done before. “But you have to promise me you won’t take him away, Johnny…please. Don’t make me regret this.”

He stepped closer, hands raised in surrender. “You won’t,” he assured. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone to do this by yourself. I’ll never stop being sorry. But I can promise you this, I won’t take him away. Not from his mom. Not from you.”

You nodded, choosing to believe, slipping your jacket on to walk into the cold of the night. “Wait here,” you said. “I’ll go pick him up from my neighbor’s.”

Johnny only nodded, shoulders hunched, his hands lowered and clasped together like he was trying to keep himself from reaching for you again. His eyes followed you to the door, until you slipped away. 

You’d forgotten how warm a room became when Johnny was in it. The night air hit you as you stepped outside, crisp and cool, making you shiver. The street was dim, only the soft glow of porch lights guiding your path as you walked to the house across from yours. Your eyes went to the huge fancy pickup truck parked just a few houses down, which had to be Johnny’s, for sure. You rolled your eyes, of course. Rubbing your arms as you walked, legs moving on autopilot, every voice in your head screaming to scoop Leo up and vanish before it was too late. But it was already too late. Johnny was inside your house. His ridiculous truck outside. Johnny had seen the photos. Johnny knew.

Back at your place, behind the curtains, Johnny couldn’t sit still. He’d told himself he wouldn’t move, wouldn’t intrude, but his chest was on fire with longing. So he drifted closer to the window, pushing the curtains just enough to peek past the glass.

There you were, on your neighbor’s porch, exchanging a few words with a lovely old lady who looked at you worriedly. Johnny’s breath fogged the glass as he watched you. His heart ached at the sight. You looked so small, so breakable, carrying all of this alone.

You went inside only for a moment, and then you stepped out, cradling a bundle against your chest. The porchlight painted your silhouette in gold, and just beneath it, faint but unmistakable, was the glow of that blonde hair.

Johnny stopped breathing. 

My God.

He scrambled back from the window, clutching the pearls he didn’t have, and set the curtains back in place hoping you hadn't noticed him. By the time you reached your porch, he had forced himself back onto the couch, his hands braced on his knees, trying to look like he hadn’t just witnessed his entire world change in an instant.

The door opened with a quiet creak, and there you were. Your arms wrapped protectively around your son–his son, head resting on your shoulder, lips parted in soft sleep. Johnny shot to his feet immediately. His eyes, glassy and wide, locked on the child in your arms. You nudged Leo’s body only slightly, to see if he realized he was home, but Johnny’s hand twitched forward before he pulled it back, hesitant. 

“Don’t wake him,” he whispered quickly, his voice breaking. “Please–don’t. He looks…peaceful.”

You nodded, shifting only to hold Leo tighter. Johnny stepped closer, just enough to see. His eyes fell on the little face pressed into your shoulder, cheek squished, small eyebrows relaxed. Johnny’s hands stuck at his sides, aching to reach out, but terrified to cross that line.

“He’s… perfect,” he breathed. His knees nearly gave out, but he clung to the sight, drinking it in as if he could catch up on six years in a single heartbeat.

Your son–his son.

Perfect.

“C–can I…?” He mumbled, the words barely making it past his lips, more a plea than a question. His hand lifted a little, hovering helplessly over Leo’s little back, asking for permission to touch the sun.

He wasn’t Johnny Storm, the cocky Human Torch, not here, not now. He was just a man staring at his son for the first time. 

“Careful. He’s a heavy sleeper, but…”

Johnny nodded frantically, like he’d do anything, anything, not to ruin this chance. His hands shook as you carefully, reluctantly shifted Leo into his arms. The kid’s head fell against Johnny’s shoulder, his little hand curling unconsciously into the fabric of Johnny’s shirt.

And Johnny’s whole world stopped.

His arms tightened instinctively, protectively, as his body nearly buckled beneath the weight– not because six year old Leo was heavy, but because he was real, warm, breathing.

Johnny’s lips quivered as he pressed his cheek lightly against the crown of his son’s head, his tears falling into soft blonde hair. “Hi, buddy,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “God, you’re perfect.”

He rocked a little without realizing, clutching him as if he’d disappear. Six years of missed moments collided in his chest all at once. And for the first time since that night at the gala, Johnny felt whole and broken in the same breath. Johnny swayed gently, cradling Leo like he’d done with Franklin a thousand times before. His lips brushed Leo’s hair, a soft kiss he couldn’t stop himself from giving. His chest ached with every quiet breath the child took against him.

You stood frozen, watching them. The sight was enough to undo you. There he was, Johnny Storm, holding his son on a random Tuesday, right in that small town you called home. And the sight unlocked a longing on you that had been buried a long time ago. So you spoke, softly, because the silence was too heavy.

“He wonders about you, you know.”

Johnny’s head jerked up, his glassy eyes wide. “What?” His voice caught between awe and disbelief.

“Leo…he’s brilliant, I think the word smart is too small for him. He’s a little wonder,” you said proudly, trying to smile. “And he asks a lot of questions, about everything, about his dad…about you.”

Johnny’s eyes went wide. “What kinds of questions?” He asked, shifting Leo in his arms just slightly, like he was grounding himself his warmth. “Please, tell me what he wanted to know about me.”

“Everything.” You exhaled, shrugging, eyes dropping to the floor. “If you had the same hair as him. If you liked the same foods. If you could build things the way he does. If you were…funny.” A chuckle slipped out of you. “He even asked once if you were a superhero, I’m not sure why. I told him no, of course, because, well…obvious reasons. Guess I just wanted him to know you’re human. Just human.”

Johnny’s chest caved in, he pressed his lips against Leo’s hair, whispering. “Oh, buddy…”

Your eyes went to the floor, clearing your throat before confessing the last part. “And then he…he asked why you weren’t here. And I–I didn’t know what to say…so I just told him you live far away, and had a very demanding job. That your life is there. And his is here…with me.”

The hesitation in your voice made Johnny’s arms tighten around Leo instinctively. You still looked away, biting down on your lip, but you kept talking, because it was the truth. 

“I couldn’t lie to him. But I couldn’t tell him, either. So I just…I kept you as a distance. An idea. Someone too far away to reach, because that’s what you were to me.”

Johnny, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at you. But once again, he didn’t have an argument against that. He shifted, his eyes roaming over Leo’s little face like he was trying to memorize every curve, every eyelash. And then he finally whispered the question that had been clawing at him.

“Does he…?” His throat bobbed, his voice hesitant, almost afraid. “Does he have it? My–my powers?”

You shook your head quickly. “God, no.” Your hand pressed protectively to your chest. “No fire, nothing like that. I watched him like a hawk for years.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, one that carried your relief. “His only superpower is being too smart for his own good.”

Johnny smiled at that, oh he knew. 

“He’s a genius, Johnny. Top of his class. Public school said he needed advanced courses. So I–I work myself to the bone to pay for that private school because he deserves it. Every single opportunity I can give him, I’ll give him.”

Johnny’s arms curled tighter around Leo. “I could've given him so many more opportunities. I could've helped you, he’d have the best teachers in the world right in his own house. But you decided to keep him from me.”

You flinched, clutching your arms tighter around yourself.

“I get it–you didn’t trust my family. Fine. You didn't have to. But me?” His voice cracked, his chest heaving. “You didn’t even give me a chance. You didn’t let me know I had a son. You didn’t let me decide if I could protect him. You just–” He looked down at Leo in his arms, “–you just shut me out.”

“Well, you shut me out first, Johnny!” You whisper shouted, doing your best to not let your anger disturb Leo’s sleep.

“I know,” he whispered, broken. “God, I know I did. But six years–” He shook his head. “Six years I could’ve been here. Six years I could’ve loved him…and you didn’t let me.”

For the first time, it wasn’t just guilt suffocating Johnny. It was grief for the life he’d been denied, the life he might never get back. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, the words came tumbling out, because you couldn’t hold them anymore.

“You really want to know why I didn’t tell you about him?”

Johnny’s lips parted, but no sound came.

“Because I was terrified,” you admitted. “Terrified that if you knew, you’d take him away the second you held him. Because you didn’t trust me. Because you already proved I was disposable.”

“You weren’t–God you weren’t…” He shook his head. “And I would’ve never taken him– but you thought I would. And that’s on me.”

Leo stirred in Johnny’s arms, a soft little whine slipping from his lips as he shifted against his chest. You straightened immediately, your arms twitching as if to take him back.

“He needs to go to bed,” you whispered.

Johnny’s eyes shot to yours, desperate but gentle. “Let me. Please.”

For a long, taut moment you hesitated, torn between instinct and the look on his face. You had already allowed him so much today. But you had also denied him so much already during those years, so you could let him have this at least. 

Together, the three of you walked down the hallway, guiding Johnny, who moved slowly like he was carrying glass. You pushed the door open, and Johnny froze on the threshold.

You turned on a little lamp, the room glowing soft in the warm light, painted in baby blue, with tiny white stars scattered across the ceiling like a sky waiting for wishes. A low bookcase ran along one wall, stacked neatly but already overflowing. It reminded Johnny of Franklin’s back home, except his nephew’s was bigger, neater. This one was fit to Leo’s size. 

He saw multiple posters on the walls. Beautifully illustrated and educational, with names of insects, dinosaurs and galaxies. A half solved massive puzzle was scattered across the carpet, the edge pieces already put together, and in the middle a scattered constellation of tiny hopeful starts. He could tell it was a rocketship mid launch. Next to it was a tower of lego blocks mid construction, like Leo couldn't decide which one would be more fulfilling to finish. In a corner of the room, boxes stored little cars, stuffed animals, and more books. 

His son's little kingdom.

Johnny stepped inside, dodging the puzzle on the floor. He bent carefully, guiding Leo down onto the small bed with its soft, solar system patterned covers. He eased Leo onto his back, smoothing his hair gently, brushing a stray lock off his forehead. The child sighed in sleep, lips parting, lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Johnny’s chest crumbled.

He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his son’s forehead, lingering there, his lips hot with tears he couldn’t stop. When he pulled back, his eyes drank in the little face now tilted upwards in the glow of the night light.

So small. So peaceful. So perfect. So his.

And he couldn’t look away. Not from the child he’d just tucked into bed for the very first time, six years too late. You stayed in the doorway at first, leaning against the frame, your arms wrapped around yourself as you watched Johnny kneel by the bed. He was so careful, so gentle, nothing like the energetic golden retriever you once knew. 

As Leo shifted in his sleep, a soft sigh slipping from his lips, you finally stepped into the room. Without a word, you reached past Johnny to pull the little blanket up over your son, tucking it around his shoulders the way you always did. Your fingers brushed Johnny’s hand for the briefest moment.

And for just that moment, just a delusional, fragile second…Johnny let himself picture it.

You, beside him at bedtime. This little room, these blue walls, these stars on the ceiling. A ritual of small hands reaching for him, bedtime stories, goodnight kisses. Not a stolen moment after six years, but your life. The life he should’ve been here for. The life you should’ve had together.

In another universe, it was probably like that. In another universe, he didn't doubt you. In another universe, you didn't have to run. Johnny’s throat ached, trying to keep the dream from spilling out. For one heartbeat, he let himself believe it. 

You adjusted the blanket one last time, smoothing it over Leo’s chest until he let out a tiny snore, and you almost smiled. Johnny’s hand still hovered near the edge of the bed, his eyes glued to the child’s face like he couldn’t believe he was real.

“I’ll never get tired of saying it…I’m sorry,” he whispered, so low it almost vanished in the air. His eyes flicked to you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for him. I should’ve been here. For the first step, the first word… all of it. I missed everything, and he doesn’t even know I exist.”

“I’m sorry you missed that too,” you whispered back. 

His gaze lifted to you, and he decided not to speak as the man who betrayed you, but as a father. “I promise you…I’ll never let him feel like how I let you feel…alone. I swear it.”

You gave him a nod. That promise wasn't just to you, but to his son.

You flicked off the little lamp by Leo’s bed and the two of you stepped out, leaving the door cracked just a bit. When you reached the living room again, Johnny stopped in his tracks. The room wasn’t just yours anymore. Now that he knew the truth, every detail shifted, every corner sang a different story.

The boxes of cereal on the counter? Leo’s. Not the quick snack of a busy professor, but his kid’s favorite breakfast. The fridge, though he hadn’t really looked at it before, had drawings pinned there with mismatched magnets. Crayon rockets, wobbly stick figure heroes, a very accurate representation of a T-rex. His son’s talent staring him in the face.

The blanket on the couch, the one he’d first seen, wasn’t just yours. It was small, soft, patterned with stars and comets, clearly a child’s. He pictured Leo curled up there, dozing while you graded papers late into the night. Even the stack of books by the TV wasn’t just random clutter. Johnny crouched a little, his breath hitching at the sight of colorful hardcovers. Stories picked by little hands, read again and again. And a huge detail he'd missed, an unmistakable pair of tiny sneakers under the coffee table.   

This was his son’s world. A kingdom built out of your sacrifices, your sleepless nights, your stubborn refusal to let him grow up with less than he deserved.

As Johnny explored, you lingered by the edge of the living room, your arms crossed, eyes flicking uneasily toward the door like you expected it to burst open at any second. What now? The question pressed heavy in your chest. You could almost see it, the rest of the family arriving in the morning, wanting answers, deciding Leo’s fate. The thought made your stomach knot.

You rubbed your temple, fighting to stay upright, but the weight of the day dragged at you. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving only bone deep fatigue. You yawned before you could stop yourself, covering it quickly with the back of your hand.

Johnny caught it. His brows furrowed, his eyes softening in that way you hated because it made you feel seen. His gaze lingered on your tired shoulders, on the dark circles you’d tried to hide, on the way you still stood like you’d go work another eight hours if you had to.

“You were really gonna work like this?” He asked softly, borderline accusatory. “Dead on your feet. With class tomorrow, too?”

You shrugged, too tired to build your walls back up. “I don’t have a choice.”

Johnny’s stomach twisted. He wanted to scoop you up, tell you you’d never have to push yourself like this again, and tuck you under the covers of your bed. But he knew he didn’t have the right…not yet. So instead, he swallowed the words down, forcing the fire back down. 

“I better get going.”

You blinked at him, surprised.

“Yeah, you uhm–” Johnny started quietly, glancing at the hallway that led to Leo’s room. His voice softened even more. “You need to sleep. And…we’ve got a conversation pending. A big one…but not tonight.”

You were too tired to argue, so you nodded.

“Thank you, for letting me…for letting me see him.” He forced a smile, not cocky, just soft. “It’s more than I thought I could.” He chuckled nervously. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Not in the morning,” you blurted, before you could stop yourself. “It’s always chaos,” you explained quickly. “Getting Leo ready for school. Breakfast, answering his questions, all of it. Just–don’t. Please.”

His eyes softened, his shoulders easing a fraction.

You exhaled and added, “If you want… you can come by the college, after classes…there’s this coffee shop right outside campus.”

Johnny nodded slowly, like he’d been given more than he expected “College…coffee,” he repeated, committing it to memory. “Alright.”

For a moment he just stood by the door, drinking in the sight of you in this beautiful, lived in space that was never meant to carry all this history. 

“Tomorrow after classes,” he whispered again, like a vow, before finally stepping out into the night. The door closed softly behind him, leaving you in silence.

You didn’t know if you were more terrified or relieved that Johnny Storm had found his way back to you.

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

Johnny drove to the hotel on autopilot, barely remembering the turns he took, barely noticing the glow of passing streetlights. His mind was still spinning like the world had been knocked off its axis.

Because it had.

Leo’s weight had been in his arms. He looked at peace sleeping on Johnny’s shoulder, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world. Now, in the dim silence of his hotel room, Johnny sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows braced to his knees, his face buried in his hands, caught somewhere between joy and grief. 

He pressed his hand hard to his eyes, but the images came anyway…Leo, smaller, toddling through the tower halls, Sue fussing over him, Ben sneaking him cookies, Franklin pulling him into games, Reed insisting on checkups. His family.

It should’ve been like that.

Instead, Leo’s bookcase was small because Johnny hadn’t been there to build it bigger. His shoes by the door were scuffed because Johnny hadn’t been there to buy him new ones. His mom worked extra shifts on a damn Sunday because Johnny hadn’t been there to shoulder half the weight.

His son. His brilliant, perfect, wonder of a kid. The one he should’ve known since the very beginning.

He thought about calling Sue. His fingers even hovered over his repaired watch, her name right there. She’d been waiting for him to call and tell her everything. And he knew she’d tear it out of him the second she heard his voice.

But the thought alone made his heart sink.

Telling Sue meant telling everyone. Meant deciding what came next. Meant pulling you into a storm you clearly weren’t ready for. And after tonight, after the way you begged him not to take Leo away, after you let him tuck his son into bed…he couldn’t betray that fragile thread of trust. Not yet. Not when you hadn’t even talked about Leo’s future. Not when you still looked at him like you were half a breath away from running all over again.

So he swallowed the urge, locked it down, and typed out a simple message instead.

Didn’t find her today. I’ll try again tomorrow.

A lie. But one he could live with.

He leaned back against the headboard, and stared at the ceiling for a while, until he decided it was better to rest if he wanted to be ready to face whatever came the next day. He got up to shrug out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the hotel chair, but it landed heavier than it should have.

The letters.

He turned back, snatching the jacket up, shaking the inner pocket until the stolen envelopes spilled onto the bedspread. He sank down beside them, remembering he hadn’t had the chance to read them in your office before “Captain Walker” barged in.

He reached for the first envelope, the oldest. The one dated just weeks after you’d been cast out. He unfolded the page with care, your handwriting staring back at him.

My Johnny

I don’t know why I’m writing this, maybe to remind myself I’m not crazy, maybe to hold onto some piece of what I thought we had. I really want to hate you. God, I know I should. But all I can think about is the way you looked at me before it all went wrong. The way you smiled at me that night at the gala. The way you made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone in that big building.

But now I am. Completely alone.

I wanted to tell you about our little miracle, but you hurt me Johnny, before I even had the chance to say it out loud. You couldn’t even look at me without that fire in your eyes, and not the kind that used to warm me, the kind that burned.

That was the moment I chose to leave, instead of fighting for something that you had already decided I didn't deserve. I can’t pretend I understand how everything ended, but it did, and now your life is there, and mine is wherever you aren’t.

Those words felt like a punch to the gut. You did try. You reached for him, but he had turned away.

‘You hurt me, Johnny.’

“Fuck,” he cursed, shaking his head violently. “Fucking hell.”

Johnny’s hands shook as he set the first letter down, his breath ragged. His chest hurt, but still he reached for the next.

He unfolded it with trembling fingers, the paper softer, the ink smudged like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times before. 

 Dear Johnny.

Today he turned four. He asked me if his dad would come to his birthday, and I told him no, because you live far away. He didn’t cry, but he looked at the door all afternoon like he was hoping you’d walk in, even if he doesn’t know what you look like. I don’t know how to explain to him that you don’t know what he looks like either. But he is so much like you.

When he smiles, when he makes his silly faces, when he figures something out quicker than anyone else. It’s you. Every day I see you in him, and every day I tell myself I’m doing the right thing keeping him away, that I’m protecting him, but it feels like a lie, because sometimes I think I’m just protecting myself. Protecting myself from you breaking me again. 

The worst part is you were never really mine, and it embarrasses me that sometimes I can’t get out of bed because I miss something I never had.  

I guess that hurts more on days like these. 

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Johnny found himself crying. Leo’s fourth birthday. The one he should’ve been front and center at, not a ghost in the background of his mother’s fears.

Not even a curse left his lips this time, just his ragged breathing. But his eyes flicked to the pile again, as his trembling fingers reached for the last envelope. The one dated five years after you’d been cast out. A year before tonight. 

For him.

I’ve realized something I should have long ago, you’re not coming. I convinced myself I hated you, yet I still waited every day, hoping you’d find something. It’s eaten me alive, night after night, I feel like I fight with you even in my dreams. 

And I keep asking myself, if clarity is in death, then why won’t this die? Why can’t I let it go? Why do you still haunt me even after all these years?

I wish you would give me back my peace. It was mine first.

I miss who once was my best friend, but more than anything, I miss who I used to be. So I can’t be like this anymore, I can’t keep writing letters to a ghost. Five years Johnny, five years of wondering if you ever saw me in a different light, if you ever saw beyond the lies. But I have to stop for my sake, for his sake.

This is the last time I’ll write to you, this is my goodbye. There was happiness in my life because of you, and I can only hope there’ll be happiness after you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re happy too, and I hope you’ve forgotten me, because I need to forget you. I need to let you go before I lose myself completely, I need to live without waiting for a door that will never open.

So I’m closing it myself.

Yours once, never again.

Fuck.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten. He had never stopped thinking about you. He had tried to find proof, investigated, and spiraled in dark nights in his room with papers stuck to his windows. And all the while, you had written this, your goodbye, your surrender, your heart breaking onto the page while he was too blind.

You had given up on him. And now, a year later, he was here, only to realize he’d arrived far too late to be the man you’d once waited for.

Johnny barely slept. Every time he shut his eyes, the words of those letters screamed at him. The thought of you sitting alone, hiding from Leo to write that with shaking hands, giving up on him. It hollowed him out until there was nothing left but determination to make things right.

To give you back your peace.

So before dawn even touched the sky, he was already moving. He slipped into the college campus while the halls were still dim and quiet. Not that easy now, since it was Monday.  Students, staff, early professors buzzing everywhere, far different than the hushed emptiness of the day before. It was a risk, and his chest pounded with every step, but he had to do it.

He couldn’t have you finding out the letters in your desk had gone missing the same weekend he showed up at your doorstep. 

Your office door creaked faintly under his hand. He moved quickly, carefully, as he slid the papers back into the drawer, tucking them in place exactly where he’d found them and locking it again. 

By the time he slipped out into the hallway, the building was alive with movement. He kept his head down, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, wearing that same sunglasses and baseball cap combo to make himself look like just another visitor until he made it outside.

And then…he waited. 

Will you forgive my soul

When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

The hours until your little meeting felt like years. He wandered the campus for a while before he realized some people were looking too suspiciously at him. He then drove around the college block more times than he could count, and since he was inside a window tinted black Ford truck, he was sure some student must’ve thought some mafia members had come to kidnap them. 

Now, he’d been waiting outside the cafe for exactly fifty four minutes. He tried to stay inside the truck to avoid getting seen, but his nerves and inner spiral didn't let him sit still. So he stood by the truck, cap still on and head ducked low, his eyes glued down the street so he wouldn't miss the moment you showed up. 

As your unmistakable figure appeared around the corner of the cafe, Johnny’s breath hitched at the sight of you finally emerging, walking slowly with a folder hugged against your chest. 

The autumn air was crisp, brushing against your skin, but the moment your eyes found him leaning by that ridiculous, shiny rental truck, you suddenly felt like sweating.

Johnny straightened the second he saw you, his whole face lighting up like he’d been waiting for this all day…which he had. But the closer you got, the more his confidence faltered. He shoved his hands deep into his jean’s pockets, suddenly awkward.

“Hi…Johnny.” You said, standing a few feet away from him, chin lifted, your voice steady. “Leo’s not out of school for another hour.”

Johnny nodded, quick, like he’d been expecting the wall. “...Hi.” He greeted, and you gave him the slightest curve of a smile.

“I know you want to see him again,” you went on, the folder pressed tighter against your chest, “but we need to talk first.”

He nodded again, softer this time. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. You’re right.”

There was an uneasy pause, until Johnny cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I–uh…can I get you a coffee?”

This type of nervous awkward interaction was so strange to Johnny. He was so used to smooth words just flowing out of his mouth, making a joke out of everything. But his life had changed so drastically in just a matter of days, that he wasn't sure he could go back to his default ‘Chill Johnny’ setting. 

You studied him a moment, then gave a small nod. “Okay.”

His shoulders loosened instantly, and he finally allowed himself to smile, then gestured toward the little café’s glass door with a red frame. He held the door open for you, and you muttered a thank you as warm light and the hiss of an espresso machine welcomed you. The bell above the door jingled when you stepped in, Johnny following carefully behind.

You chose a booth by the window, close enough to the door if you needed an exit, far enough from others to keep voices low. Johnny slid into the seat across from you, the baseball cap finally coming off. His knees bounced under the table, his hands fidgeting with the paper menu though he didn’t read a word.

For a moment, it was just silence. Awkward, heavy. You stared down at your folder on the table, and he stared at you, neither of you knowing where to start. A waitress came by, and Johnny ordered two coffees, remembering your exact order from all those years ago. 

That made your heart skip a bit. 

The silence stretched again until Johnny cleared his throat, his voice softer than you remembered. “So…Leo.”

Your eyes flicked to his, nodding slightly. “Leo.”

The clatter of cups and the murmur of conversation around the cafe made the tension between you feel sharper. The drinks arrived but Johnny’s coffee sat untouched, steam curling up between you as his eyes finally lifted to yours.

“What’s his favorite cereal?”

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the questions he could have asked…’Why this, why that?’ that was not the one you expected.

“Cereal?” 

“Yeah…you’ve got, like, three boxes on the counter. He has to have a favorite.” Johnny shrugged. 

Your chest ached at the innocence of it, the way his voice cracked with soft curiosity. 

“Lucky charms,” you said. 

Johnny’s eyes softened instantly. He nodded, filing it away like it was the most important piece of information in the world. Then, an idea lit up his face.

“Did he get the human torch figur–?”

“They don’t have the one with your face on it here,” you cut him off, almost apologetic.

The truth is, one of the many reasons you’d picked that town was the lack of the Fantastic Four’s influence. Johnny understood that.

“Right.” He nodded, not exactly sure how to feel about it. “And his favorite color?” he asked quickly, before you could redirect.

“Blue…” you answered, ‘like your eyes’ your mind whispered. “Like the summer sky,” you said instead.

Johnny smiled. He wanted to ask a thousand things at once. About his laugh, his quirks, the bedtime stories he loved, the little words he mispronounced when he was smaller. But each answer cut and healed him in equal measure, so he asked them slowly.

“What makes him laugh the most?”

“Who’s his best friend?”

“What does he want to be when he grows up?”

You sipped your drink, watching Johnny soak in every answer like he’d been starving for it. He wanted to know everything, like each detail was a thread stitching him closer to the the kid he’d missed for so long. And for a moment, you let him have it. For a moment, it almost felt right.

“I could talk about Leo’s favorite things all day,” you admitted softly, tracing the rim of your mug with your fingertip.

Johnny smiled faintly, but when he looked up, your eyes had shifted.

“But there’s something else,” you said, daring to look up. “A question that’s been eating me alive. One I can’t keep inside anymore.”

His brow furrowed, the smile gone instantly.

“What exactly do you plan for him now, Johnny?” You sighed. “Now that you know he exists–what happens to Leo? Because last night…last night I slept with him safe beside me. I couldn’t close my eyes without imagining someone walking through that door to take him away.”

Johnny froze, the color draining from his face. You didn't think he was safe. He reached for the mug he hadn’t touched, gripping it just to anchor his hands, but he didn’t drink.

“I need to know,” you pushed on, your stare burning into him. “What do you plan to do with my–with our son?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His mouth opened, then closed, like the words weren’t ready, like nothing he could say would be enough. 

“I don’t know,” he said, honest.“I don’t know what the right move is,” he went on, his eyes flicking up to yours. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do, or how to fix six years I’ll never get back. But…the only thing I do know is that I want to be part of his life. However you’ll let me. I can’t…I can’t pretend I don’t know him now.”

The conviction in his words fought with hesitation. He wasn’t demanding, wasn’t trying to take. He was still begging for a chance, clumsy and terrified, but utterly certain of one thing.

“I want to know him,” Johnny added, more firmly now. “And I want him to know me.”

You leaned back against the booth, your chest tight, but his words lingered. I want to be part of his life. The way he said it…shaking, terrified, but sure, chipped at the walls you’d built so carefully.

“Do you think he’d…want me in his life? I mean, if we told him who I am. Would he hate me for not being there?” He asked, hesitant, tracing the rim of his mug.

The question knocked the air out of you more than you expected. Not because you hadn’t thought about it, God knows you’d lost sleep over it, but because of how honest he sounded asking it.

“He’s a smart kid. He sees things. Asks questions I can’t always answer…I don’t think he’d hate you, but…he’d have more questions. And I’d like to give him answers that don’t hurt.”

Johnny nodded slowly. “I just…I want to do right by him. Even if it’s late.”

You looked at him in silence for a few seconds, before humming. “You can start,” you said softly, “by meeting him…like really meeting him”

Johnny blinked, startled. “Like–now?”

The look on his face of wide eyed disbelief, made you huff out a laugh you didn’t expect. 

“Yes, Johnny. Now.” You tilted your head to check the time on the clock by the barista. “It’s just in time to pick him up from school.”

For a second he just sat there, frozen, like he hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility that you’d actually let him do that today. His hands gripped the edge of the table like he needed to hold on to something solid before the floor crumbled under his feet.

“God,” he whispered. “I don’t even know if I can breathe right now.”

You chuckled and shook your head, standing up from the booth. “You’ll manage, come on. I promised him yogurt ice cream after school. He aced a test on Friday.”

“Doesn’t he, you know…always ace them?” Johnny asked, the doubt in his voice almost made you laugh again.

“He does. But I don’t want him to think it’s his duty to excel every single time. I want him to know that little victories matter too even if I didn't take him much effort. He deserves to feel celebrated, not pressured because he thinks he has to fulfill other people’s expectations."

Johnny stared at you, floored. He thought of his own childhood, of expectations that had weighed on him since the day Sue took over his raising, when his mother passed away. It wasn’t because his sister pressured him directly, but because he always felt like he owed her excellency. Things that took all his effort, sweat and tears. But to this day, Johnny felt like he'd failed her on that, because the bar had always been set too high for his little hands to reach. So in his head, that kid inside him didn't deserve yogurt ice cream, because little victories had never mattered in his big world. 

But his son’s did. Because you made sure of that. 

So he just glanced toward the window to blink away the tears threatening to come out of his eyes. All he could think was his son had the best mom he could've had. 

Once you walked outside, the late afternoon sun shone across the street. Johnny headed toward that absurdly shiny rental truck, but when he glanced back, you were unlocking your modest sedan.

“I’ll pick him up from school. You can meet us at the yogurt place.”

Johnny nodded, though something in him ached at the distance between your cars, your lives. But he didn’t fight it, just asked for some directions on how to find said yogurt place. 

“Alright,” he said softly, eyes lingering on you as you slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll be there.”

-

The yogurt shop was painted in cheerful colors, with a bell jingling as Johnny stepped in. He scanned the room, with only a couple of tables occupied by groups of high school students. His chest rose and fell too fast, his palms getting ridiculously damp. Since when did he sweat?

Calm down, Storm, it's just ice cream…oh right, and you are also meeting the most important person in your life. 

“Welcome in!” The teenage girl behind the counter gave him a friendly wave. 

Johnny nodded too quickly. “Yeah, hi, thanks, just–uh, table for three? I’m waiting for someone.” He said, then immediately panicked. 

Did he really just ask for a table for three? In front of a bunch of teenagers that were totally giving him a side eye? He couldn't exactly blame them, what was this, some fancy dinner restaurant from New York? Was he really so out of touch that he didn’t even know how to be a normal person anymore?

Before he could keep overthinking over that single interaction, he cleared his throat, then pointed around the place. “I’ll just find one myself…yeah.” He smiled nervously, darting toward the empty tables, away from the groups. 

It didn’t matter though, because they were still watching him over their shoulders, because Johnny tested each empty table like a maniac. Too wobbly. Too close to the trash can. Too far from the door. Until he finally landed on one by the window where the afternoon sun spilled in. Steady, perfect lighting, perfect line of sight to the door.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, yanking the chairs out and back in again to make sure they weren’t squeaky. “Aaaand we got a winner! This is the table.”

Then, he went toward the counter where he could see the list of flavors on the wall, because he couldn’t look like a fool not knowing what to order in front of his family. He scanned the labels, as the girl behind the counter stared at him curiously. 

Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate swirl, cookies & cream, birthday cake, mango, passionfruit. 

“What’s the most popular?” He asked, placing a finger on his chin as he tilted his head. “No, wait–what’s the healthiest? Do you guys do like…sugar free? No, kids don’t care about that. Uh…”

“Sir…would you like a sample?” The girl offered, lifting tiny spoons in the air. 

Johnny nodded so quickly, that the girl let out a chuckle, before turning to the yogurt machines to get a sample of the most popular flavors for this weird guy to try. He was handsome though, she was totally telling her friends about him. 

By the time the judgy teenagers had left the establishment, Johnny Storm, Human Torch, beloved public figure that no one seemed to recognize in this small town, was sitting on the table he’d meticulously picked with five pink sample spoons sticking out of his jacket pocket. 

Okay, so if he likes chocolate, I’m set. But if he’s a fruit kid? I’m screwed.

The bell above the yogurt shop door jingled, snapping him out of his thoughts, and that’s when the golden light of late afternoon poured in behind you. Johnny looked up, and the world stopped.

There he was.

His son. Your son.

Leo stood beside you, his small hand clasped in yours, his little uniform neat. A navy pullover stretched just slightly at the sleeves, crisp white polo peeking out at the collar, khaki shorts, and the cutest polished shoes that Johnny knew you’d spent extra to make sure he looked perfect in.

He looked like a polite kid, yes, but his energy buzzed right through the surface, his body practically bouncing at your side like he couldn’t decide whether to walk or skip into the shop. His hair glowed blonde in the light, catching that same golden halo Johnny had seen in the mirror his whole life. The shape of his smile,as he was tugging at your hand, was his. Unmistakable. The resemblance knocked the air straight from Johnny’s chest.

It was a mini him, except better, softer…pure.

By the door, you crouched slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you spoke gently to Leo. Your voice was steady, but Johnny could see the way your hands twitched with nerves.

“Leo,” you said softly, brushing a hand over his sleeve, “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Johnny’s heart hammered so loud he thought the whole shop could hear it. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. And Leo, with wide curious eyes, looked up at you, then followed your gaze toward the man waiting by the window.

“Baby,” you squeezed his hand, getting his attention back. “I want you to meet a…friend.” 

His eyes flicked from you to Johnny again, studying him with all the seriousness a curious five year old could muster. Leo tilted his head, eyebrows knitting.

“A friend?” he said, and Johnny almost fainted from how cute his little voice was. “From where?”

“From a long time ago,” you replied.

Leo squinted at Johnny, the way only a child could, unfiltered, curious to the bone. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he let go of your hand and marched right toward the table. You followed anxiously. 

And Johnny? Johnny was toast. He forgot how to move. His heart jackhammered as the kid–his kid–stopped in front of him and just stared, unblinking, like he was scanning him for answers.

“You look like me, mommy’s friend.” Leo said matter of factly. “We have the same hair.”

Johnny panicked, and for a terrifying second he thought his legs were going to give out when he stood up from the table. He managed a shaky disbelieving laugh, crouching to meet him at eye level.

“Yeah, buddy,” he exhaled. “I guess we do.”

Leo grinned, quick and bright, satisfied with his own observation. “Cool.” Then, as if that settled everything, he spun around and tugged at your sleeve. “Can we get ice cream now, Mom?”

“Yes, baby. Let’s do that.” You nodded quickly, letting yourself be guided by his little hand to the counter. 

But Johnny was frozen in his crouching position for a few seconds, blinking fast, the word Mom echoing in his head as he stared at Leo, who was already more like him than he’d ever dared to imagine.

He took a deep breath.

There was no way back from this. Only forward, into the storm.

PART TWO

Thank you so much for reading, feedback is always appreciated and it helps a lot, so don't be shy to share your fav moments 🫶🏼

Lil funny extra -> Johnny jealous of Walker

Lovely dividers by @lobster-graphics

Regret was a feeling you spent your entire life trying to escape from. You often told people as you grew up that you didn’t have regrets, instead, each decision would lead you down a path. One path would be the right one, and others would be a lesson that you had to learn, no matter how painful it was. It was ignorant of you to miscalculate the meaning of the word because when you dropped Brock’s had and subsequently his heart, it took approximately an hour for the feeling to sink into your chest and build a home there. 

You sighed deeply as you worked up the energy to get out of your car. You knew that you were back in Vancouver to stay, you knew that it was long past time to return back home where you belonged. But stepping out of your car and unloading the bags into your new place cemented it as reality. It meant you had to face everything you ran away from. It meant you had to live in the same city as Brock again and the thought was like a hand on your shoulder that was holding you underneath the water, with just enough air to survive but not enough to escape. 

You left Vancouver, the place that you had spent your entire life because you thought the opportunity was better. It wasn’t until you came back to the same hometown that you left, a broken heart stitched onto the sleeve of your sweater that you realized. You were ready to tell him you were wrong, that you realized home would never be home again without him, even if his presence was still all over the city. His face quite literally littered the city and you could pick out his apartment building every time you looked at the skyline. But you never felt further from him than you did now because in that apartment was where he started a new life, where he was building a home with someone else.

You spent the next week settling in. You took your time because all of it felt overwhelming. Each day you woke up with an attempt to tell yourself that it would get better but each night as you fell asleep, your mind was invaded with dreams of him. Dreams of life that your heart was telling you that you should have had. 

The dreams were supposed to go away, they weren’t supposed to invade your soul as you watched the broken relationship fade further and further away. It had been too long to hold onto this feeling of hope that maybe, somewhere deep down he was still who you were supposed to be with. It felt like you were trapped above the trees and watching as he built an entire life without you. Brock moved on, and you were still there trying to grasp onto willow trees whose leaves slipped out of your grasp each time your fingers touched them. 

It was the dictionary definition of torture, having every dream riddled with Brock. Every time you dropped your head to a pillow and your eyes fluttered shut you saw the entire scene where it all fell apart. Only in this version, when he got down on one knee you didn’t grab his arm and stop him. You didn’t start crying because you had to say no, without the explanation that he deserved. In the dreams, your champagne problems didn’t blow up the only love you had ever known. But the dreams weren’t real, and each time you woke up with that painful reminder that the ring was now on someone else’s hand, because you had left instead of fighting the mess of your own mind for him. 

It took less than two weeks to run into him again. You had assumed it would happen at some point. For a city that had almost 2.6 million people living there, it was small when you knew your way around. Life had a way of fucking you just hard enough that it wasn’t even unexpected you would run into him in the most mundane of places, a park. You knew Brock had dogs and you knew that the very place you were walking through was in fact, a dog park. You also knew he still lived in the same apartment, the one that you once spent your days in. You had to swallow hard to stop yourself from thinking about the person that now occupied that space with him because part of you selfishly thought maybe everything you had heard from mutual friends wasn’t true, maybe he hadn’t moved on. 

Brock walked up to you slowly and sat down on the bench next to you. The mere feet of space between you felt taunting. He was right there. His hair was a bit longer than it was the last time you saw him, and the scruff on his face made him look older. He was a shadow of the Brock you knew yet he still felt as familiar as someone could. You made no move to speak, instead, you thought about how if the strangers passing by could sense that you once spent nights tangled together only to have the two feet between you feel like the distance between the sun and the stars. 

“I heard you were back,” Brock mumbled. He turned slightly to look at you, a half-smile adorning his features as you blinked back the onslaught of tears you could feel behind your eyes. 

“Yeah, two weeks ago about.” You replied. Brock just nodded in response and took a sip of the coffee he had in his hands. Likely the same order he always had, a medium drip with just a splash of cream. You hated that you remembered. Brock fumbled in his coat pocket, pulling out a small envelope and resting it in his hands. Your name was written in handwriting that you didn’t recognize. 

“I actually, uh, knew you were here.” He spoke, handing you the small envelope. You took it from his hand. When you opened it you saw an invitation. An invitation that was for his wedding. You ran your fingers over the words, the embossed lettering was beautiful. The location, the botanical garden, was the exact type of place you would expect Brock to get married. 

“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Regardless of how we ended, you were one of my best friends, and I don’t blame you for any of it.” Brock’s voice filled the silence as you struggled to find the words. 

“I’ll be there, Brock.” You whispered, a sad expression in your eye that he noticed. There was so much more you wanted to say, there was always more that you wanted to say when it came to him. Each time he came home you hoped that would be the time you’d finally admit it, you’d admit to him that you weren’t over what happened. You weren’t over him. Each time the words were almost there, bottled up in your chest just needing to travel into the air for him to hear. But you never found quite the right thing to say and consequently, you never got to know that for a time, it would have been everything that he wanted to hear. Instead, you were left to the images in your dreams, the ones where you did tell him you loved him and you were sorry, where it all worked out and he wasn’t marrying someone else. 

That wedding invitation haunted you. It sat on your desk, untouched as you carried moved through the next few months. You had started a new job that you were excited about, and each day things were getting easier. The dreams that once felt like they were never going to leave had slowly started vanishing. You were, for the first time in what felt like years, waking up feeling more at ease. It wasn’t until the night before the wedding that the dreams resurfaced, one last hazy cloud that you hoped would dissipate in the morning forevermore. 

It felt like a new beginning with him, new roots in an entirely new world that was only crafted carefully inside your dreams. A dark forest where you ran through it, hand in hand, in the rain, and he kissed you in front of the cottage covered in green ivy. The plant spiraling up the building like your heart spiraled out of control. The kind of love that you feel deep beneath your skin, a steady rhythm that followed the beat of your own heart. The kiss entirely complicated everything, and it felt fucking good to be complicated for once, to be the person who got to experience the love that people only wrote about in sonnets. But the dreamland wasn’t real, it wasn’t crafted by anything other than your own imagination. As the scene fizzled into dust in your hands, you felt your eyes well up with tears, because he wasn’t yours. He would never be yours again.  

The sharpness of her voice shattered the haze that you were looking through. Her hard words echoing in your mind with each breath as you shot up from bed with a hand to your chest.

“I think he did it.” And he did. In your dreams, he did it every time, and her voice breaking as she said it in your dreams made you sick to your stomach at the thought. Because love at the betrayal of another isn’t an honest or true love at all, and you wanted no part in it. Even if it was just your subconscious dreaming about it. 

You did your best to push your thoughts down as you got out of bed. You took your time making your coffee, stopping to take a moment to sit in front of your window. Your small orange cat, Nora, was curled up in your lap, purring steadily as you took the last few moments to relax before what was going to be an emotionally exhausting day. You took your time getting ready, locking the door to your apartment, and arriving at the botanical garden with just enough time to slip in without running into anyone you knew. 

The problem with this being Brock’s wedding was that you knew so many of the people here. His friends that you once shared together, his parents who once thought that this would be you and their son. You didn’t want any of them to realize that you were there. You were there because it meant something to Brock. It was the last thing you could give him to hopefully make up for the hurt you caused him. The same hurt that he had found a way to move on from, leaving you right where you left him, dust in your hair, and the same solemn expression on your face. 

You sat by yourself in the back of the garden, the space around you was decorated in dusty pink peonies and clouded with baby’s breath. It was beautiful, tragically beautiful watching her walk down the aisle. You had seen it so many times in your own dreams, the evermore sense of dread in your heart as this day approached gathering up into your throat, threatening to send tears down your cheeks. In another life that would be you. In a dream world, that would be you. But this wasn’t a dream, and you had to let him go. 

The closure was something you never searched for. To you, Brock was always who you thought you would have it all with. You thought it would be you standing there in front of all of your family and friends, you thought it would be you with the home and the family with him. You were so deep in the own hurt you caused when you left that you told yourself over and over again that it would still happen, he was still your forever because even if right then wasn’t the right time for you, the right time was coming. It wasn’t until you saw him smile at her as she walked down the aisle that you knew, Brock had moved on. He was happy, and that was the closure that you didn’t know you needed. 

You squinted and glanced around your room, racking your brain as you tried to figure out how exactly your ex-boyfriend knew your current whereabouts.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, not to mention slightly shocked that he was even interested in seeing you in person — though some part of you was, indeed, grateful for that. “How did you even know I was in Scottsdale?”

“Uh, your Instagram story, my dear,” he said, obviously amused. “You posted this morning from that new coffee shop between the Methodist church and our old school building. Remember?”

You rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly regretting adding him to your close friends list on Instagram six weeks ago after a few glasses of wine with your girlfriends.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, eliciting a chuckle from Auston.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself thinking I sit around and stalk you, sweetheart,” he teased. “I thought about replying but I didn’t wanna slide into your DMs and look like a fuckboy.” He paused, and you opened your mouth to make a halfhearted wisecrack that you didn’t truly mean, but before you could speak, he added, “Plus you probably get so many DMs, I’m sure mine would just get lost in the shuffle.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Matthews,” you repeated, whinier now.

“C’mon, Kels. Just come over,” he whined back. “I just got in last night. I’m staying at my parents’ house. My sisters nearly busted down my door when they saw you were back in town, plus I know my mom and dad would love to see you.”

Suddenly, two decades’ worth of memories that you had long ago pushed to the back of your mind flooded all at once to the forefront of your consciousness. Sleepovers watching Disney Channel movies and eating peach rings with Alex and Brey. Brian scooping you up in his arms after a nasty tumble off your bike on their street, propping you on the kitchen counter as he bandaged the scrapes on your knees, Auston never leaving your side nor letting go of your hand. Road trips with Ema to watch Auston play in countless tournaments, with you doing homework in the front seat while Ema sang along to the radio. Matthews family dinners eating Ema’s famous chicken tortilla soup. Vacations and carpool and pickup basketball games and shopping for prom dresses and just the mundane, everyday routine you had been part of for so many years.

And those were just the memories that involved his sisters, his parents. You didn’t dare let your mind uncover the buried memories of him, and him alone.

You missed them. Sometimes you missed them all so much that it made your heart physically ache and your stomach drop and your mouth go dry.

So, you drew a long, deep breath, and against your better judgment, eventually said, “Okay. Fine. But you have to send me your parents’ address. I haven’t been to the new Matthews McMansion.”

Auston huffed on the other end. “So mean to me.”

_____

It was certainly a far cry from the modest old ranch-style house where Auston had spent his childhood.

As you pulled up to the sprawling estate in the bougie part of town and cut your engine, you whispered, “What the fuck am I doing here...”

And still, after a quick check of your makeup in your rearview mirror, you got out of the car, closed your door and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, sighing as you took in the four vehicles parked in front of yours in the roundabout driveway, none of which you had ever seen before. Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. Well, you could guess which one was Auston’s.

You walked up the stone sidewalk and slipped your aviators into your purse — it was only then that you noticed that your hands were trembling.

You cleared your throat and exhaled sharply, willing your nerves to subside, as you arrived at the door and pressed the button on its frame, sounding an elaborate chime inside.

“I got it,” you immediately heard a familiar voice call, and you took a startled step backward as you saw his figure approaching through the decorative glass panes outlining the doorway. As he pulled open the door, the flutter you’d tried your hardest to avoid feeling for three years took flight once more in your belly.

“Matthews,” you greeted again, arms crossed in front of you in hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“Why’d ya bother to ring the doorbell, you nutjob?” Auston asked with a broad smile.

Before you could throw a snide remark back at him, he pulled you into himself, one arm snaking around your mid-back and the other hand cradling your head to his chest. Inadvertently, you exhaled contentedly, and you swore you felt Auston tighten his grip on you then. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself relax into him for longer than you had intended. He just felt so… familiar. Broad. Strong. Comforting.

He was just… Auston. A thousand things had changed for the two of you, but the way you felt in his presence hadn’t changed since you were a little girl.

You inhaled his cologne, and you noticed that he was doing just the same — breathing in your long-worn Chanel No. 5 perfume, the same kind he used to save up all year to buy you each Christmas.

At that memory, you snapped back to reality and extricated yourself from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly disappointed, though still pleased with your greeting.

“Hi,” you spoke simply as you stared up at him, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded.

“Hi,” he mimicked, head bobbling and eyes widening, causing you both to fall into a giddy fit of nervous laughter over nothing at all.

Just then, you saw Ema’s head pop out from beneath an arched opening toward the back of the house — probably leading to the kitchen, you assumed. Ema was always in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard your laugh,” she sang. You couldn’t help but beam, and Auston smiled and moved out of your way so that you had a direct pathway to his mother. Taking advantage of that, you made a beeline for the petite woman you considered your second mom, already feeling emotion bubbling up in your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“Oh, mija,” Ema said, her voice tight as she met you in the middle of the grand entryway and gathered you into her arms. “Te extrañamos,” (we miss you) she said sincerely.

Auston cupped the back of his neck and quickly looked away then, fearful that he may just shed tears of his own.

You sniffled and murmured, “Los extrañé a todos mucho,” (I missed you all so much) into Ema’s shoulder as she smoothed her hand lovingly over the back of your head.

When you finally parted, moving past the brief sadness of the reunion, Ema still held tightly to your hands, extending her arms so that she could see you better.

“You look more beautiful than ever!” she exclaimed, and you dropped your head bashfully at her compliment. “California is treating you well.”

You nodded. “For the most part,” you remarked with a sigh. Ema glanced quickly from your face to her son’s and back again, deciding not to dwell for too long on that loaded response.

“Well,” she pivoted with a click of her tongue. “You look great. Now come, come! I know Auston’s going to want to steal you away from me, not that I blame him, but I just put on some tea, so let’s sit and have some first.”

“Ma…” Auston protested lightheartedly. Ema wagged her finger at him. “Shh! Mijo! My long lost daughter has returned. Give me ten minutes for a cup of tea with her.”

Auston’s lips parted at her use of the word “daughter,” not that he should have been surprised by it, and you tossed him an animated shrug as Ema pulled you down the hallway back from whence she came. You were right — it was the kitchen, and it was a spectacular one at that.

“Holy…” you trailed off as Ema patted one of the leather barstools at the enormous island in the center of the room. You took a seat, pulling your cross body bag from your shoulder and placing it on the island, and commented, “This kitchen is incredible, Ema. I’m sure you love spending time here.”

Ema nodded and excitedly launched into stories of using all the appliances and gadgets she had never owned before, walking back to the teakettle on the stove as Auston sat down on the nearest barstool, feeling as though he could simply be dreaming, hallucinating, that you were here, sitting with him in his parents’ kitchen. But when you noticed him taking the seat next to yours, you tossed him a classic Kelsey smile and nudged his shoulder with your own, and he felt just slightly more confident that this was reality. Unable to resist your magnetism, which hadn’t faded with time but seemed instead to have only grown stronger, he squeezed your knee beneath the countertop, just as Ema approached with a cup of tea in hand for you.

Choosing to react instead to Ema rather than her son, you grinned and thanked her, feeling Auston’s eyes on you as you lifted the mug to your lips and took small sips, Ema still prattling on happily from the other side of the kitchen. You eventually cast a sidelong glance Auston’s way, accompanied by an amused smirk, the combination of which left him beaming as he looked away from you and back toward his mother, who now approached with two more cups of tea.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him.

“You’re welcome, mijo,” Ema replied. “Now Kelsey, honey, how long are you in town?”

“Uh, just until the day after Christmas,” you replied, swirling a finger along the ceramic rim of your mug. “This is the most time I’ve taken off since I started at the magazine,” you admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Ema nodded. “Your mother said you haven’t made it home for a while. I know they keep you pretty busy there. Is that why you don’t visit so much?” she asked unassumingly.

Auston dropped his head and shuffled his feet awkwardly against the tile floor, and your eyes flickered to him as you racked your brain for an answer that wasn’t a complete lie but also didn’t unmask the whole truth — which was that being in a town that held so much history with your ex was simply too suffocating to bear, even for a quick visit with your parents. So, you typically just stayed in California where you could throw yourself into your work as a fashion writer at a well-known publication and operate under the illusion that you had moved on. From Scottsdale, from Auston, from your life before Los Angeles.

And especially from Toronto.

But the problem was, when the night fell and the lights all faded and you were left to face the truth, you knew in your heart that that’s really all it was — an illusion.

And from 2,500 miles away, Auston knew it, too. He knew it because he was living the same lie.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied sheepishly. “That’s the gist of it. Just, uh, just hard to get away sometimes. My parents usually come out to visit me instead since their schedules are, uh, a little more flexible.”

“Right,” Ema said skeptically as you took a long pull from your mug, despite the hot liquid singing your tongue and making your eyes water. “Well, either way, it’s so good to finally see you here,” she added warmly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathed, honesty dripping from that answer.

Auston finally looked at you again, giving you an understanding smile. Even that smallest of gestures made you dizzy.

“So,” you said as you moved away from the topic, sitting up a bit straighter. “Where are the girls? Where’s Brian?”

“Golfing,” Auston answered. “Like always,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?” you teased, making both Ema and Auston laugh.

“They begged Auston to come with them, but he turned them down,” Ema informed you. “And now we know why.” She lifted her eyebrows and took another sip of her tea as Auston shook his head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he joked. “But no, they’ll be back soon. They can’t wait to see you.”

You brightened at that, not having seen the Matthews girls in nearly as long as it had been since you’d seen Auston himself, finding it easier to breathe when they weren’t nearby, reminding you of him with their every mannerism. And yet, you’d found that starving yourself of their friendship and their company ached nearly just as much.

“I can’t wait either,” you said through a distant smile.

“And Dad will probably cry more than Mom did when he sees you,” Auston predicted, lifting his mug. Ema swatted at his arm.

“Don’t start with me!” she warned. “I happened to see you choking up out there, too.”

You turned to Auston and raised an accusing brow at him. He simply chuckled into his tea and looked away, and the three of you sat in silence for a beat.

“Come on,” he finally said as he rested his mug on the island, nodding his head in the direction of the sliding glass door at the back of the house. “Lemme show you the patio.”

You nodded, knowing full well that showing off the backyard was not the real reason he was inviting you outside. Despite that knowledge, you hopped off the barstool, put your mug in the sink, and kissed Ema on the cheek as you passed her.

“Thanks for the tea, mamacita,” you said with a smile, squeezing her shoulders. “Anytime, mi amor,” she replied, sending a wink your way as you turned to follow Auston.

He slid open the door and motioned for you to step through it first. When he saw his mother watching you through the kitchen window, he gave her a knowing smirk, and she put her hands up in innocence. But as she watched you two walk out onto the patio through the glass, she breathed a silent prayer to any higher power who would listen that maybe, just maybe, you would finally come home.

Not to Scottsdale, no. Home to Auston.

Meanwhile, you were trailing your hand along the hammock near the pool, taking in the scene and trying to remember to breathe. When you heard him close the door, you turned back to Auston, your eyes floating around the backyard.

“Nice setup they’ve got back here,” you grinned, Auston chuckling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“Yeah, it’s even nicer in the summer,” he commented. You nodded, stepping closer to the pool and lowering yourself to sit on the edge, patting the space next to you as an invitation for Auston to do the same.

“We have chairs, ya know,” he grumbled as he took a seat. “Not all of us like to sit on the floor all day doing yoga.”

You sneered at him. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I do all day long,” you said sarcastically.

“Well, you used to, anyway,” he mumbled.

You gulped as visions of him watching you do precarious yoga poses on the living room floor of his apartment flickered in your mind’s eye, and then, once again, you moved right along.

“So… how’s it going, Matthews? How’s life?” you prompted, not even sure if you truly wanted to hear the answer to your inquiry.

He stretched out his long legs so that his feet were dangling above the water as he wondered where to even begin.

“It’s… it’s good,” he said. “Overall. It’s nice to be home for a few days. Needed that. I missed it. Missed my family. Missed…” he stopped himself, “…other things,” he added under his breath.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and decided to avoid the path he was taking this down. “How’s hockey?” you asked instead.

Auston shifted noticeably at the mention of his career, still painfully aware that, despite the successes it had brought him, it had ultimately caused the demise of your relationship.

“Hockey is… hockey,” he said. “Honestly it’s good on the whole. But the team’s not having the greatest year so far, which is rough.” You nodded, knowing better than most that the Toronto media operated at a different level of intensity and scrutiny than that of nearly all other markets, especially when the Leafs were losing, and especially when new blood was added into the equation, like Auston’s had been when they drafted him.

Like yours had been when you moved there with him.

The spotlight they shone on you — and the subsequent attention you received from so-called fans who took to the internet to question your intentions and integrity — had been far more than you bargained for.

Just as you were about to ask about how the guys on the team were faring, Auston spoke again.

“I think about calling you every time we come to LA, Kels,” he said, fixing his eyes on the neighbor’s house in the distance because he was simply unable to look at you while he admitted it. With a sniff, he added, “I’m not gonna lie about that.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked after a beat, maybe unfairly, studying his familiar profile. His features were the same, of course, but he looked… more mature. Older. Wiser. All that jazz. Auston shrugged, still not capable of looking at you.

“Just didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered dejectedly. Your heart sank into your stomach. Given the things you’d said when you left him nearly three years ago, you could hardly blame him for that one.

“Well,” you started with a sigh. “I guess we could call it even then, because I think about coming to see you play every time you come to LA. Or Anaheim. Or even Vegas. And obviously Phoenix.”

“Well why didn’t you just call me asking for free tickets then,” he said in a tone that he tried to disguise as facetious, but you heard the hurt seeping into his words. “Everybody else I know in any NHL city does.”

You felt a fierce sense of protectiveness then, clenching your jaw as you tried to calm your irate thoughts. You watched him pick at the sleeve of his black Raiders crewneck and felt deeply for him — this man you’d loved since he was a little boy.

“Do they really? Still?” you asked in monotone.

Auston nodded, squinting in the sunlight. “Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’ “Every game.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, covering your eyes with your hand and pushing into your temples. You blew out a long breath. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I… it just sucks.”

Auston shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he stated. “Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t. Kinda depends on whether the person’s actually talked to me lately.”

You nodded as he chuckled sadly, and you felt your chest tighten. “Well,” you began, clearing your throat. “I guess I wouldn’t qualify then because we haven’t talked much.”

Auston looked at you with intensity surging in his deep brown eyes, and you wanted to look away but found that you couldn’t.

“You always qualify,” he said seriously. “You’re one of the only people that qualifies.”

You bit down, hard, on your bottom lip and grappled internally with the weight of his comment. Then he said sarcastically, “Besides, I know you’re only after my money. I mean, you forced me to buy you that Louis bag the week after I got drafted.”

Your jaw dropped at his joke, and you scoffed indignantly. “Oh, yeah, the one you finally had to hide in my closet after I kept sneaking it back into your car because I wanted you to return it?” you corrected. “Yeah, ya caught me. You know me, Aus. Such a gold digger.”

Auston had started laughing halfway through your quip, but stopped suddenly. You gave him a questioning look, and he paused before answering.

“You called me Aus,” he stated with a smile he tried and failed to hide. “You went back to calling me Matthews after we broke up. But you… you just called me Aus again.”

“Yeah, well...” you grumbled, “Don’t get too excited.” You tossed him a smirk and he mirrored it, basking in the comfort of the moment.

“So whaddya think of the place? Not bad, right?” he finally asked, glancing around the property, back at the house, then settling his focus back on you.

You shrugged. “A little gaudy for my taste, but...” you began, and Auston shook his head bemusedly, knowing he set himself up for that one.

“No, it’s great. I can see how much your mom loves it. In all seriousness, I think it’s amazing, everything you’ve done for your family. Your parents. It’s pretty incredible,” you said earnestly. “I don’t think I said it enough when we were together, but, I’m really proud of you, Aus. And I don’t just mean about the hockey.”

Auston nodded soberly, turning his head to look you in the eye.

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Kels. It means a lot coming from you. More, uh… more than you know.”

And then, before you could think twice about doing so, you reached out your hand to rest atop his, feeling its familiar warmth as your fingertips grazed the raised veins there. Auston swallowed hard, blinking at where your hands now met, and slowly wrapped your fingers in his, giving them a squeeze. You exchanged long stares before you eventually slammed on the brakes in your brain and carried on.

“So, you just casually hang out with Justin Bieber now?” you asked, reaching your palms behind you and leaning back. “And the wildest shit is that I saw it first when he posted it, not you.”

Auston chuckled, looking down at his slides and — ironically — Drew socks combo. In his signature way, he halted his laughter on a dime and his face turned somber as he said dryly, “Yeah, I’m like really famous now, yanno?”

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you looked skyward, feeling Auston’s gaze turn to you. You let it go for a few moments before shifting only your eyes toward his.

“What?” you asked accusingly. You could tell by the faraway smirk on his face that he was lost in a memory.

“Remember you had posters of him hung up all over your room in like middle school? From Tiger Beat magazine and shit? And now I play video games and mini sticks with the guy,” Auston said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and if you ever tell him about that, I’ll end your life,” you threatened, shoving at his arm and attempting to ignore how much his biceps had grown since you last touched them. And then you were slamming the door shut on a rush of memories of having him beneath your touch — some innocent, but most intimate.

Auston saw it in your eyes — the place you went for a moment — as you dropped your hand back to the concrete beneath you. He knew where you went because, so often, he went there, too.

He held your gaze and promised, “Your secret’s safe with me. You know that.”

Only a hint of a smile graced your lips for a fleeting moment as you ran your fingers through your hair. Suddenly, you felt the heaviness of the history between the two of you closing in — smothering you, like it always did. Auston watched helplessly, wishing it didn’t have to be this hard.

And then, in a flash, like he so often did to save you from your swirling thoughts, he casually changed the topic as he commented, “Your hair’s shorter. You look like your mom. In a good way.”

Blushing, you breathed a laugh through your nose. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I think it’s the highlights, too.”

“It is,” Auston confirmed, and then — damn him — he reached out and looped a lock from the front of your face between his thumb and forefinger, the way he had done a thousand times before, usually mid-conversation, always absentmindedly. This time, you knew, as you forced your eyes to meet his, it was a bit more calculated. “I really like it,” he told you.

You nodded, searching his eyes to try and determine whether he had any idea what this — this moment, this visit, this day — really was.

“If you’re gonna ask me what we’re doing,” Auston spoke, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “then I have to tell you I have no idea.”

Again, damn him. After all this time, it was like he still lived inside your brain and had read your every thought like the morning paper before you even had the chance to convey it. Which used to save you in a lot of ways. Now it felt kind of… intrusive. But somehow you didn’t mind.

“I had no idea what I was even gonna say when I called you. All I know,” he continued, still flipping the strand of hair around his fingers, “is that I really wanted to see you, and that I was really happy when you came, and that I’m really enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded, and as he pulled his hand from your face, his thumb brushed your jawline just slightly, and that touch alone sent a bolt of lightning through you. Auston smiled softly as he said barely above a whisper, “Okay, now it’s your turn to say something.”

You heaved a sigh, tipping your head back with eyes closed and soaking in the sunshine. “I don’t expect you to know, Aus,” you finally spoke. “I was just so... so shocked, I guess, that you wanted to see me. It’s been so long, I just... I didn’t know when I would see you again.”

“We’ve talked though,” Auston pointed out with a sigh to match yours, pulling a knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around his bent leg. “FaceTimed. Texted.”

You rolled your head toward him. “It’s not the same,” you reasoned softly, hesitantly reaching out your hand to tuck some of his black hair behind his ear. He licked his lips swiftly and placed a peck to your thumb before you slowly withdrew your hand.

“You’re right,” Auston conceded. “Definitely not the same.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt...”

You were snapped out of your private moment by one person’s voice and another person’s squeal behind you.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled as you shot up from the side of the pool, Alexandria and Breyana already scampering toward you from the back door.

“It’s about goddamn time you came back to us!” Alex shrieked, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I missed you, little sister,” she cooed, rubbing her hands across your back, and you hummed in agreement.

“I missed you, Al,” you replied, kissing her temple as you stepped back to greet the youngest of the Matthews clan.

“And you. My baby!” you exclaimed, pulling Breyana into your arms. “The true star athlete of the family,” you teased as she squeezed your waist.

“Damn straight,” Breyana giggled. “I missed you, Kels. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You pulled away, glancing behind you as you saw Auston slowly approaching out of the corner of your eye. “Me either,” you admitted, eyes widening dramatically as the girls snickered at you. “How was golf?”

“Brey smoked us, no surprise,” Alex replied. “But shut up about the golf. Tell us what’s going on with you two.”

“Alex!” Auston warned, shooting her a glare. “Please don’t.”

Alex gave him her best older sister roll of the eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as Breyana looked between the two of you.

“Nope,” Alex refused. “Not until you tell me what’s up. C’mon, spill.”

“We’re just...” you began, swiveling to look Auston’s way as he smirked down at you, happy to let you flounder in this one all on your own. “Visiting,” you finished, nodding once at Alex, pleased with your choice of verbiage.

“Honestly, you guys…” Breyana lamented.

“Visiting, huh?” Alex echoed, growing even more suspicious. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Wear protection. Anyways, uh—“

“Alex!” Auston repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I swear to god...”

“Anyways, like I was saying,” Alex continued. “Your parents invited us all to their house tomorrow night for the Christmas party. I didn’t think you were gonna be there — does this mean you will?”

You nodded, causing Alex to clap excitedly. “I’ll be there with bells on,” you confirmed. “I already made my shortbread cookies.” All three siblings moaned in delight at the mention of your famous treats.

“Hell yeah! Plus that means we won’t be the only ones escaping to the balcony to drink,” Breyana commented.

“Brey, you’re like twelve,” Auston taunted, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger sister. “You don’t get to drink with us.”

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Like you guys weren’t sneaking Mom and Dad’s liquor when you were younger than me.”

“Anyways,” Alex said yet again, clearing her throat. “We’re gonna go back inside now and shower, and just, uh, leave you guys to whatever it is you were doing beside the pool there. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. See ya,” she sang, spinning Breyana by the shoulders and guiding her inside, both girls whispering and giggling all the while. “Kels, I’ll call you tonight — you can tell me all about it!” Alex called over her shoulder, sliding the door closed.

You turned to see a pink tinge to Auston’s cheeks as he muttered, “Sorry,” with a dry laugh. You shook your head.

“No, don’t be,” you insisted, waving him off as you took a seat at the glass picnic table beside you, Auston following your lead. “It wouldn’t be a visit to the Matthews house without Alex torturing the both of us,” you teased.

Auston nodded. “Very true,” he said, and you knew he didn’t want to stop there, but he couldn’t seem to find what he did want to say next.

Instead, you ventured, “So what are your—”

At the very same time, he started, “Kels, would you maybe—”

You both chuckled at yourselves, locking eyes. This certainly wasn’t the first time this had happened in conversations — far from it. And usually, you were about to say the very same thing.

So, you motioned for him to speak first.

He toyed with the band of his watch as he said nervously, “I was just gonna say, uh, would you maybe wanna go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

You sat back in your chair, smirking, fully aware that you were teetering on a damn fine line.

“I was hoping you might say that.”

_____

An hour later, after reuniting with Brian (Auston was right — he cried more than the rest of his family combined when he hugged you), you headed home to change for dinner. As you pulled away from the Matthews house, you were thankful that Auston had offered to follow you in his own vehicle so that he could drive you to dinner, which in turn gave each of you a few minutes to breathe.

Surprisingly, your mother didn’t seem at all shocked to see the guest you had brought back with you. You had told her that you were going to visit the Matthews’, not specifying which member of the family had invited you, though she could venture a guess. When she watched two vehicles pull into the driveway side by side, she inhaled an excited gasp, a smile overwhelming her features as she came to meet you at the front door, just as you laughed at a lame joke Auston cracked about your driving.

Your mother nearly tackled him in a hug, which he warmly returned. He shared a similar bond with your mom to the one you shared with his, which was yet another piece that fit perfectly into the puzzle that was your relationship. So many pieces fit, and so few didn’t, but that still didn’t make things whole.

But, you ignored that thought — and so many others — as you left the two to chat, bounding up the stairs to change, now grateful that you’d brought more than one nice option to wear to the Christmas party tomorrow, considering the rest of your suitcase was filled with comfy loungewear.

How could you have ever planned for this?

After touching up your hair and makeup and putting on the more understated of the dressy outfits you’d brought, you returned to the kitchen where your mom and Auston stood huddled at the counter, near empty glasses of red wine in front of them both.

“Already boozin’, huh?” you teased as you folded your arms in front of you. They chuckled, and Auston glanced at you over his shoulder with a smile. When he laid eyes on you, though, he stood straight up and turned to face you, making no attempt to hide his stare, even in front of your mother. Without taking his gaze off of you, he threw back his final sip of wine and blew out a flustered breath. You knew you were blushing, so you walked past him to your mother, pressing your cheek to hers for an air kiss so as not to mess up your lipstick.

“Sorry to take your favorite boy away from you, but we should head out,” you announced as you looked back at Auston. He cleared his throat, walking to the other side of the countertop to hug your mom again, thanking her for the wine and something else that you didn’t quite catch.

He followed you down the hall, his hand ghosting along the small of your back as you reached for your purse on the coat rack. You looked back and blew a final kiss to your mom, who waved as she watched Auston open the passenger door of his car and help you in — both of you giggling as you crouched into the low-riding vehicle in your skirt and high heels. Like a mom of a young teen, she stood at the window and watched the two of you drive down the block and out of sight, hands clasped together wistfully as she turned back to finish placing the final decorative touches in the living room ahead of tomorrow.

Just a minute later, your dad came through the door from the grocery store, calling for her, sounding nearly breathless.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, smoothing the silk ribbon wrapped around the banister.

“Marie… did I just see Auston driving Kelsey down the road in a Porsche?” he gaped, his brow furrowed, thumb pointed over his shoulder.

She laughed, looking downward as she nodded.

“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, then looked at him as she felt tears welling. “Jack... I can’t say for sure, but I think maybe the girl is finally coming to her senses.”

A smile spread slowly across your father’s face and he came toward your mother, wrapping her in a hug.

“Well…” he began, kissing her temple. “Then maybe we’ll get our Christmas wish after all.”

“And what’s that?” your mom asked.

“For her to be happy again.”

_____

“You look amazing, Kels,” Auston said seriously from the driver’s seat. “Gorgeous.”

You gave him a coy smile and briefly inspected the outfit he’d chosen before leaving his own parents’ house.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Auston grinned and decided he would take that.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to the restaurant you had already known he’d had in mind when he asked you to dinner, without even needing to discuss it. The same Italian restaurant where you’d celebrated infinite birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Days, and other milestones. You fell into easy conversation during drinks and appetizers before Auston told a comical story about his teammates which led to an in that he knew he needed to take. 

“They miss you, you know,” Auston stated cautiously between bites of his shrimp scampi. “Mo. Mitchy. Especially Steph.”

You folded and unfolded the seams of the cloth napkin in your lap, considering your response.

“I miss them, too,” you eventually murmured. “So be real with me. You really like it there now?” you leveled with him.

His demeanor shifted — in a good way — as he replied. “It’s honestly great. I mean, you’d love it there now, Kels. I swear,” Auston said, shaking his head in wonder. “’M not just saying that. I mean, the hype is still there, yes, but it’s not at the level it was when I first started. Mitchy and Mo and Willy and I, all us guys who kinda started out together, we’ve all sort of found our groove with the media and stuff, and for the most part, it’s great. I have a feeling it’ll just keep getting better, too.”

You watched his eyes light up as he spoke about Toronto, relief and happiness washing over you. It didn’t seem so long ago that Auston was curled up on the couch, near tears, head in your lap, feeling incapable of living up to the expectations set for him — almost buckling under the immense pressure, the likes of which he had never felt before.

You let out a teary chuckle, swiping at a teardrop on your cheek that had fallen as he answered, taking you by surprise.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Aus,” you told him, holding your hand over your heart as it soared within you.

Auston nodded slightly, and his lips twitched into a sad smile. “There’s still something that doesn’t feel right though,” he confessed, though it didn’t feel much like a secret. “Still something missing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked timidly as you lifted your wine glass, excited for and fearful of his answer at all once.

“You.”

Forcing yourself to swallow your merlot so you didn’t spray it across the table, you put your fist to your mouth, holding it there while you attempted to process his latest, and most brazen, admission.

“I mean… look, there have been a few others,” Auston continued with a mindless shrug. “But never anything serious, and never anyone that I’m not constantly comparing to you in every possible way,” he told you, rolling his fingertips on the table and focusing on his hand as he spoke. “Feel kinda bad actually, because I know they all thought it was something more than it really was, and then I was always the one to break things off. I didn’t purposely lead them on, I just... once I got into it, I realized my feelings just weren’t in it.”

You opened your mouth to speak, hands limp in your lap, and then closed your lips in a tight line as you mulled over his words. You inhaled a shuddering breath and looked down, feeling the same shame that had overcome you countless times before come back again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered without lifting your eyes.

“Kelsey…” Auston spoke firmly. “Look at me. Please.”

You did as he asked, lips pursed, and were met with his adoring, enchanting gaze, always too forgiving of your faults and mistakes.

“It’s okay,” he promised sincerely. “I understand. Trust me on that. I’ve always understood where you were coming from, but it seemed like there was just… just nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could do to make you stay, or to bring you back. That’s what made it so hard. That’s what still makes it so hard.”

You nodded. “Well — what you’re doing right now — whatever this is… it’s working,” you divulged, knowing this was a dangerous game and no longer caring.

“Is it?” Auston asked, a full-blown smile appearing now on his lips. Those lips you missed so damn much.

“Yeah,” you giggled, both of you grinning. “God, I missed your smile, Aus.”

“My smile?” he asked incredulously, then scoffed. “Your smile fucking breaks my heart, Kelsey,” he told you in his deepest tone, biting at the inside of his cheek as if he was trying not to lean across the table and kiss you full on the mouth right then and there.

And now, as you saw that look in his eye that you knew so well, you knew two things.

One, you were fucked. And two, you were in desperate need of a minute.

“I, uh, I gotta run to the ladies’ room,” you told him, standing, feeling unsteady as you pushed in your chair. Auston nodded knowingly and said, “Take all the time you need.”

You brushed a hand over his shoulder, the other holding tightly to your crossbody bag, as you attempted to walk in a straight line toward the restrooms across the restaurant floor. You were only one glass of wine deep, yet this night was making your head feel as fuzzy as if you’d just done a row of shots. Once safely inside the bathroom, you tossed your purse on the counter and held tightly to the sink to try and settle yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control your racing pulse.

Just then, you heard a toilet flush, and your sense of solitude was quickly shattered when you saw a familiar blonde figure step out of the bathroom and lean closer upon recognizing you.

“Kelsey!” she exclaimed, moving toward the sink.

“Holly! Oh, my god,” you laughed as you squeezed her upper arm.

“Here, let me wash my hands and then I’ll give you a real hug,” she promised as you both giggled.

You had been a cheerleader throughout high school, and Holly, a year your senior, had been captain the year before you took on the title. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you had always looked up to her, and you’d kept in touch for a couple of years after you graduated before mostly falling off, save for the occasional hype comment or story reply on social media.

“How are you, girl? You look gorgeous!” she said as she threw her arms around you.

“So do you! I’m doing well, thanks. Home for the holidays,” you offered as she stepped back and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s great! Me, too,” she replied, then smiled mischievously at you. “To be totally honest, uh… I saw you when you were being seated. I didn’t wanna be weird or like, intrude, or anything but… I saw you come in with Auston. Are you guys like… back together?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no,” you laughed nervously, feeling yourself blush under her questioning. “We’re not back together. Just, uh, just two old friends, uh, catching up, ya know?” you reasoned nonchalantly as you reached for your bag.

“Oh. Right. Well... ‘tis the damn season, am I right?” Holly said with a chuckle, her own cheeks slightly flushed as she feared maybe she had made you uncomfortable by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Right,” you nodded cordially, then took a step toward her and patted her hand, wanting to make sure she didn’t think you were upset by her comment. “It’s so good to see you, Hol. I’m gonna head back out there—“

“Kelsey, wait,” Holly said urgently, grasping your arm before you could turn away from her. You blinked at her several times, glancing between her grip and her face as you waited to hear what had gotten into her.

“I just have to tell you... for what it’s worth, you guys still look so happy together,” Holly said. “Even if that’s not what this is. I just... I wanted to tell you that. As someone who has known you both for a long time, Auston never smiles as much as he smiles when he’s with you. It’s just nice to see.”

You gaped at your old friend, speechless, and she scrunched her nose at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross the line, I just...” she trailed off.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to act casual. “No, no. Not at all. It’s okay. Thank you, for telling me. I just, I gotta run,” you said, leaning in to hug her again. “Bye, Hol. Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kels. See you around,” She smiled as you moved toward the bathroom door. With one last polite nod at her, you exited and escaped to your seat.

As you reached the table, you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out and running your hand along the back of Auston’s neck and affectionately trailing your fingertips over the short hair there, as you had done for so many years when approaching him and sidling up to him. Instead, you smoothed your hand over your dress and sighed as Auston turned his head to look at you, grinning as he watched you sit.

“You get lost?” he teased. You chuckled, throwing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Something like that,” you muttered, immediately reaching for your glass of wine, which you could tell had been refilled in your absence. Auston hummed in acknowledgement as you took a long sip, watching you all the while.

“One more glass and then we get outta here?” Auston suggested as you set the glass down. You only nodded.

_____

“Remember when you had that old truck, with the tires that were always muddy, and we used to just ride around Scottsdale all night long?” you asked Auston, both of you reminiscing about days gone by after leaving the restaurant.

Auston nodded, running his pointer finger across his upper lip, the other hand on the wheel, as he watched the memory projecting in his mind.

“‘Course I do,” he told you, and you didn’t miss the way his tone changed when he did, making you smirk.

“So, where to next?” you prodded. “Back to Casa de Matthews?”

He shrugged ambiguously, but secretly, he knew just what he wanted to do. “We could just ride around. Like we used to. If you want. I mean, there’s no real reason for us to rush back to our parents’ houses, right?” he said with a snicker.

This could get messy as the mud on the truck tires, you thought, but your response was already tumbling from your lips.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d say let’s go drive through the rich neighborhoods and look at Christmas lights like we used to, but that’s where you and your parents live now, so...” You clicked your tongue and Auston rolled his jaw, acting completely offended to hide how much he had missed you chirping him. The way it melted him.

“We’re still going,” he insisted, turning the wheel at the next intersection and pulling a U-turn. “We’ll just, uh, we’re just gonna maybe skip a couple neighborhoods, that’s all.”

You laughed — a real Kelsey belly laugh — and Auston watched as you lit up his world yet again. He didn’t even need to see any Christmas lights this year. He had all the light he needed right next to him.

Minutes later, he passed the usual first turn on your holiday lights tour and you furrowed your brow.

“Aus, where are you going? I wanted to see Ranchero Nuevo first. We always start there,” you reminded him.

“No, what’s the actual first thing we do when we go see Christmas lights?” Auston asked, pulling instead toward the strip mall at the next light. When you saw the green glow of the Starbucks sign up ahead, you smiled as it dawned on you.

“Get hot chocolate,” you said fondly. Instead of answering, Auston simply sent a soft smile your way. “You’re the greatest,” you lauded, igniting a pride that burned bright in Auston’s chest.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said before he could even realize what he’d just done. He snapped his head your way and saw that you were trying your damnedest not to smile.

He was completely taken aback as you quipped, “You can call me babe for the weekend.”

Auston did a double-take and then nodded once at your phone in your hands, which had just lit up with two missed calls and a particularly accusatory text from one Alex Matthews that you decided you would have to tend to later.

“Write this down,” Auston instructed curtly.

“What do you mean?” you laughed, holding your phone up curiously.

“I want proof that you just said that to me,” he deadpanned, jutting his chin toward your glowing screen and sending you into a fit of laughter.

After you’d both recovered, Auston picked up your drink — large peppermint hot chocolate, like always — and a coffee for himself, and you set off to wind your way through the same neighborhoods you had driven through countless times, admiring most of the decorations and poking fun at the gaudiness of some, laughing all the while, without a care.

As he pulled into a neighborhood you knew to be just a stone’s throw away from where he had recently purchased a house, Auston took a deep breath, fingers gripping the steering wheel rigidly, and decided to take the leap and say what had been circling through his brain since you’d stepped foot in the vehicle after dinner but had only just now worked up the nerve to say.

“What if we didn’t go back to our parents’ places tonight?” he asked abruptly, the words sounding much more jumbled and rushed than they had in his head.

You chuckled anxiously, staring straight ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pressed on. “Hear me out. What if we just went to my place for the night instead? I don’t mean to like… to hook up, or anything,” he assured. “Just to be together. I just… I really fucking missed you.” 

Uh, whoops. He hadn’t exactly meant to slip that last part in there, but it was too late to turn back now.

There was a lengthy pause and the car was frighteningly silent as you weighed your options.

“Well...” you eventually said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

“Yeah?” Auston asked immediately, searching your face for confirmation that he had just heard you correctly. He couldn’t believe that this — any of this— was really happening.

You nodded.

“Yeah. And… Aus?” you spoke.

“Yes, Kelsey?” he asked softly, joy radiating from his whole being and seeping into his words.

You leaned your head back against the seat and reached to wrap your hand around his on the center console.

“I really fucking missed you, too,” you told him.

_____

“Why did you agree to come with me tonight anyway, Kelsey?”

You and Auston were each almost a full bottle of wine deep by the time he asked this, inhibitions now lowered. He’d barely finished giving you the tour before you were both so palpably overwhelmed by the reality of being alone together in his house, with so many feelings buzzing about frenetically, that you took the liberty of pulling a bottle of red from the wine fridge and asking for glasses and a corkscrew. Auston forked them over without question, and now you were deeply entrenched in the process of examining old battle wounds that had never quite healed.

“Because I missed you,” you answered truthfully. “And also because I owed it to you to accept your invitation when you took a chance by reaching out.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kels,” he claimed, taking a swig.

You picked up your glass and passed by him as you began to pace the tile floor, unable to just be still during this exchange — this conversation that had been a long time coming.

“I do, though,” you argued. “You gave me everything. Everything. And I still left.”

Auston squeezed the stem of his wine glass so hard he feared he may just shatter it.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for the things I put you through because of my career choice,” he said firmly, a hand splayed against his chest as he accepted the responsibility, just like he always did.

“But you didn’t choose to have the media posted up outside our apartment every day. You didn’t choose to have strangers stalking me and my family online. You didn’t choose to have them calling me a distraction and a leech and a gold digger and a wh—“

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he lifted a finger, referencing the specific instance of the smearing of your character that had left you broken enough to start packing your bags.

“Okay,” you conceded quietly, knowing just how sick that one word had made him. “But listen. Yes, you chose to play hockey. But you didn’t choose all that shit that came along with it. You didn’t know! Hell, you didn’t even get to choose where you played. But even so… honestly, I used to blame you for everything. Because back then, it was just easier for me to deal with it that way.”

Auston’s head hung between his shoulder blades as he leaned his palms against the bar, reliving the very same pain that had eaten away at him for the past three years, especially the acute ache that had come in the weeks immediately after you left.

“I know you did — blame me, that is,” he said softly. “And I understand why.”

You took slow and deliberate steps back to where he stood and rubbed your hand soothingly across his broad back, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Hey… look at me, huh?” you asked, gently guiding his face toward yours with your fingers. “I don’t blame you, Aus. I don’t,” you assured, your eyes piercing into his. “Not anymore. I’ve grown. I know I did this. I know it’s my fault that we’re like this. I mean, fuck, I broke my own heart, and I know I hurt you. I just... at the time, I didn’t see a way forward on the road we were on.”

Auston’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he tried desperately to compute what he’d just heard, convinced he was gathering more from your words than you meant for him to.

“And now?” he ventured.

He watched as your pained expression turned to one of, dare he even think it, hope.

“I still see it, Aus,” you said. “I still see us ending up together. I know it’s out of the blue, but…”

“It’s not though,” he said, cocking his head a bit to punctuate his point. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, any of this, but… to me, it’s not out of the blue. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he told you. “And I just need you to know that. Regardless of what happens next.”

“Auston, you and me together… that’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s all that’s ever made sense to me,” you said, clarity washing over you. “But I just, I wasn’t ready. And I got so scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle your life that I… I just ran.”

“You can run, Kelsey,” Auston said softly as he, yet again, twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “But only so far.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. Then, without hesitation, you grasped his chin between your forefinger and thumb, turning his face to yours and studying his brown eyes just for a heartbeat before pressing your lips to his.

And for now, that was all that needed to be said.

_____

You hadn’t slept together. But you had slept together.

Too much crying and laughing and kissing and rehashing and wondering aloud had left you both emotionally drained and physically exhausted, and after dragging yourself into the master bathroom to throw on a crewneck and a pair of  Auston’s sweats, you’d promptly fallen asleep in his arms, a smile on his features even in sleep.

The next morning it occurred to you, with your cheek pressed against his bare chest and your legs entangled with his, that Auston’s bed — whether here, or in the house where he grew up, or in Toronto — was the warmest one you’d ever known. Though you could tell by the sunlight flooding the room that it was late in the morning, you couldn’t bear to move away from him. 

Soon, he, too, began to stir. As he squinted in the daylight and peered down at you, he closed his eyes once more, a peaceful grin on his lips.

“Oh, thank god that wasn’t just a dream,” he whispered. You chuckled, your fingertips lazily drawing shapes on his pecs as you nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“Nope,” you established. “This is very, very real.”

You lay in quiet thought for a moment before adding softly, “But what happens now?”

At that, Auston’s eyes opened wider this time, a slight panic visible in his face.

“Well,” he began, smoothing his hand over your head and kissing your hair. “What happens now is that we get some coffee.”

You sighed at his attempt to make light of the situation and pushed yourself to sit straight up in bed, cross-legged in front of where he lay on his side.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you spoke, your fingers pulling anxiously at the bedsheet below. “Yesterday was like a fever dream and now... now we have to face reality.”

Slowly, Auston sat up, too, and pulled you into his lap, allowing you to rest your back against his torso as he gathered your hair at the nape of your neck in a makeshift ponytail.

“Everything that happened yesterday was reality, baby,” he insisted, kissing the crown of your head.

“Our feelings, yes,” you allowed. “But not the rest of it. I mean, fuck, we’re both leaving town in —“ you glanced at the bedside clock and were shocked by the 11:27 that stared back at you, realizing you’d practically slept in half the day — “48 hours. And then what? I go back to LA and you go back to Toronto and we just wonder about—“

“Baby, stop,” Auston begged as he turned you to face him, bringing your forehead to his lips. “Take a breath,” he said, stroking your jaw with his thumbs as he looked down at you, concern etched into his features. “We don’t have to figure all this out right this minute. In fact, we’re not going to. For right now, let’s just let this be what it is. And you have to try and stop spinning your wheels so fast. You’re gonna burn a hole in my floor,” he joked, kissing your nose.

You chuckled sadly, holding his wrists. “You’re right,” you eventually told him. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. I know we will,” you sighed, frowning. “First things first though, I have to get home and help my mom get ready for the party tonight.”

Before you could get out of bed to start gathering your things, Auston circled his arms around your hips and kept you in his lap. “Wait, gimme a smile first,” he requested.

You looked up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile, still distracted by the future of your relationship teetering precariously in the balance.

Auston shook his head. “That’s a fake Kelsey smile,” he accused, accurately. “Don’t even try me.”

With another deep sigh, you muttered, “You’re the only soul who can tell.”

“Who can tell what?” he asked, hugging you tighter.

You looked up at him for a moment, feeling more seen than you had in years. “Which smiles I’m faking,” you said quietly.

A pleased smile twitched at the corners of Auston’s lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.

_____

Auston walked into your parents’ house that night with his understated charm and a devastating ensemble of a maroon suit, white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and black loafers, looking every bit the GQ model he was once upon a time. With two bouquets of red roses and a bottle of champagne in hand, he knocked on the glass and your dad met him enthusiastically at the door.

“What’s the occasion?” your dad then chuckled, a bit puzzled. Auston glanced to where you stood near the staircase, waiting to greet him, and smiled.

“These are for your daughter,” Auston said as he grasped one bouquet. “And these are for your wife,” he said as he gestured toward the other. Your dad raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of you pensively, and let out a loud laugh. “Well, how thoughtful! And the champagne?” your dad asked as Auston stepped toward you and tucked one bunch of roses into your hold. He kissed your cheek chastely and turned back to your dad.

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna have something to celebrate,” Auston said with a smirk. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and your dad clapped Auston’s back appreciatively before leaving the two of you to your moment.

“Thank you, for the flowers,” you said softly, staring up at him. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod before your aunt and uncle suddenly appeared in the doorway, loudly greeting you and pushing their way toward you for hugs as Auston gave them their space and waited for you to become available again.

His patience lasted all of five minutes as he made vague pleasantries with the handful of guests who had already arrived, before he was approaching you again, eager to do what he really came here to do and unable to wait a moment longer. As you turned away from a brief conversation with a longtime next-door neighbor, Auston gently grasped your wrist as he said hastily, “Can I see you outside for a second?”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he led you hurriedly through the formal living room and out the French doors to the balcony, closing them behind you and backing you into a corner, hidden from view.

“Aus, what are you—“

He pressed his body into yours, nudging you back against the rail as he took your face in his hands and kissed you hungrily.

“Doing,” you whispered when he let up, completing your earlier thought as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen lips and looked up at him, your cheeks reddening.

“That,” he answered simply with a small smile. “And I wanted to give you something...”

He patted his pockets to determine where the object was, and your eyes widened.

“Auston, no!” you exclaimed, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to stop his search. “You can’t. I didn’t get you anything. I —”

“Kelsey, are you crazy? Yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Time with you. You gave me time with you. That’s all I’ve wanted for the last three years. That’s more than I could have ever asked for.”

There was nothing you could say then, nothing that sounded worthy enough to hold any significance in such an already meaningful vignette of the two of you. Auston took your silence as his opportunity to pull a mid-sized, square, red leather box from the pocket of his suit jacket, the name “Cartier” imprinted in gold script on the lid.

“Auston, stop,” you warned in a whisper, knowing what was inside and knowing that you would be rendered completely incapable of walking away from him once he offered this gift to you, knowing what it signified for both of you. He shook his head, knowing that your request was an empty one. He propped open the box and placed it on the small wrought iron table in front of you on the balcony. You couldn’t peel your eyes from it as your mind raced with questions.

“How... where... we slept until noon, Aus,” you stuttered. “All the stores were closed. Where did you even buy this?”

He pursed his lips and nodded once, then put his hands into his pockets and admitted, “I’ve had it for almost three years, Kels.”

You blinked again and again, not processing what he’d just revealed.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I bought this for you for Valentine’s Day three years ago,” he continued. “I bought it and I hid it in my closet and I was gonna give it to you but we broke up on —“

“January 30th...” you whispered. Auston’s brows knit together in agony, and his throat constricted.  

“You remember too,” he stated quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember a little too well,” you said, sniffling as you glanced down at the box again.

Suddenly, your mind drifted back not to that fateful day in his apartment in Toronto, but instead to lying on your stomach as a kid in your family room, flipping through the pages of your favorite issue of your mom’s old Vogue magazines, as Auston used a yardstick and a Nerf ball as makeshift hockey equipment, taking shots at your couch again and again while you soaked in the photos of beautiful models, trendy clothing, and expensive jewelry, as visions of working at a fashion magazine someday twirled through your daydreams.

“Whatcha readin’?” a ten-year-old Auston inquired as he dropped next to you to take a break from his game.

“Vogue,” you answered, turning another page. “Like usual.”

Auston nodded, spotting a pretty woman in a tight black dress and commented, “Cool,” with a laugh. “If you could have anything in that book, what would you pick?”

Ever the master of sass, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s a magazine, Aus,” you corrected with venom in your voice as Auston rolled his own eyes. “But, if I had to pick... I know just what I want,” you informed him, leafing through the issue to get back to an ad in the front. When you finally found what you were seeking, you plopped the magazine down again, smacking your hand onto its glossy pages.

“That,” you said, pointing to the gold bangle. “It’s called the Love Bracelet. It says that it gets bought by somebody you love and then they have to use a screwdriver to put it on you.”

“A screwdriver?!” Auston asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you drawled. “It doesn’t hurt. But then the person who loves you is the only one who can put it on you or take it off you. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Auston nodded. “Cool,” he repeated, more seriously this time. You sighed wistfully as you gazed down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, but it’s a whole bunch of money, and my dad said he isn’t buying it. He said maybe my husband will get me one someday,” you said sadly. Auston watched your face drop, then, he got an idea.

“How about this,” he offered, nudging you with his elbow. “If I get famous for playing baseball, or hockey I guess, and I make a boatload of money, then I’ll buy you that bracelet. ‘Kay?”

You blushed, hunching your shoulders as you were slightly embarrassed by your best friend’s offer. Still, you loved Auston, and you knew he loved you. He was the only person you wanted to get that bracelet from, except for like, your mom or dad.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You promise?”

Auston dragged his index finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart,” he confirmed.

This time, it was your turn to say, “Cool.”

“I asked my mom to hold onto it,” you heard him telling you now. Now that you’d become the people you’d said you’d be. Now that you both had grown into the farfetched dreams you’d shared as children. Now that you’d come back home — back to one another. Now that he was here, in front of you, again. “I just couldn’t bear to take it back, even though I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to give it to you.”

You were shaking your head endlessly, attempting to stop tears from streaking your face. “I can’t believe this...” you said, awestruck.

“I don’t have to put this on you right now,” Auston said, swallowing his own tears he felt creeping up on him. “I just want you to have it. It’s yours. You should keep it.”

With a few swipes at your undereyes, you rubbed away the wetness on your hands and then extended your left wrist to Auston. A smile flashed briefly across his lips before he set them in a straight line once more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, caution in his voice.

You pulled him in by his waist, beaming, before you answered.

“I’ve played this out basically every night since I left,” you told him. “Even when I was with somebody. I just followed the path my mind was taking me all the way to the very end, until there was no place left to go. And it always leads to you. It always leads me home.”

Auston pulled you into a searing kiss, both of you smiling into it, before he squeezed your hand and reached for the box, carefully disassembling the bracelet so that he could put it on you at last.

“All day I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier. About running,” you spoke as Auston worked on securing the bracelet. “I started running and running and it’s been such a mess since then. Nothing about the past three years made any sense to me. And then I saw you, and… it all made sense again. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me,” you told him, your voice wavering as he twisted the final screw into place, lifting the inside of your wrist to his lips and placing a warm, reverent kiss to the skin there, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. “So I’m done. I’m done running, Auston. I can’t run anymore.”

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Auston admitted, touching his forehead to yours before leaning back. “So, to your earlier point... what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

You ran a frazzled hand through your long hair and bit at the inside of your cheek as you formulated your response. “I mean, I have to go back, Aus. I’m working on a really big project...”

Your words put him into a tailspin of his own this time, watching the dreams he had let resurface over the last two days come crashing down in front of him all over again. You were eluding him. Again.

His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard your next words.

“But maybe after that... I could come and spend some time in Toronto?”

Auston pulled his tongue away from the roof of his dry mouth and pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it,” he said, desperation in his tone.

“I mean, really, I don’t have a choice,” you pointed out with a breathy laugh, your fingers tracing the cold metal of the bangle around your other wrist. “I don’t see any other way that this ends. Not after this. This perfect fucking weekend. I mean... do you?”

“No,” he quickly retorted. “No, I don’t. I was just scared that you... that this was going to be it for you. That we would have this incredible time together and then it would just be another chapter in the Auston and Kelsey history book.”

You smoothed your hands over his lapels, allowing your body to fully relax into his.

“Auston, this... this is different,” you said somberly. “Before, it all just felt like too much. I got scared. We were so young, Aus. I mean, we’re still young, but we were babies. And now... I’ve realized that dealing with the press and the social media and the fans... it’s worth it to me. I’ll never like it. But I love you. And that’s enough. That will always be more than enough for me — being with you. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long, that it took me finally coming back home, to realize that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kels, please,” Auston whispered, one hand clutching at your hip, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head as he held onto you with everything he had, knowing he was ready to do so for as long as you would let him. “Just... just say it again, baby. Please?”

“I love you, Aus,” you whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m never gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Auston pleaded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing his lips to your mouth. “Don’t ever stop. Promise?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“From a long time ago,” you replied.

“Leo,” you said softly, brushing a hand over his sleeve to get his attention, “I want you to meet a friend.”

“A friend?” he said, and Johnny almost fainted from how cute his little voice was. “From where?”

Leo squinted at Johnny, the way only a child could, unfiltered, curious to the bone. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he let go of your hand and marched right toward the table. You followed anxiously. And Johnny? Johnny was toast. He forgot how to move. His heart jackhammered as the kid–his kid–stopped in front of him and just stared, unblinking, like he was scanning him for answers.

“You look like me, mommy’s friend.” Leo said matter of factly. “We have the same hair.”

Johnny panicked, and for a terrifying second he thought his legs were going to give out when he stood up from the table. He managed a shaky disbelieving laugh, crouching to meet him at eye level.

“Yeah, buddy,” he exhaled. “I guess we do.”

Leo grinned, quick and bright, satisfied with his own observation. “Cool.” Then, as if that settled everything, he spun around and tugged at your sleeve. “Can we get ice cream now, Mom?”

“Yes, baby. Let’s do that.” You nodded quickly, letting yourself be guided by his little hand to the counter. 

But Johnny was frozen in his crouching position for a few seconds, blinking fast, the word Mom echoing in his head as he stared at Leo who was already more like him than he’d ever dared to imagine. He took a deep breath.

There was no way back from this. Only forward, into the storm.

Once he managed to convince his legs to move and walk to the counter, where that same girl looked at the three of you curiously, Johnny cleared his throat, pulling out his leather wallet. 

“I got the ice creams,” he said, firm enough that you almost argued out of instinct, but before you could, he leaned slightly toward Leo. “So, what’s it gonna be, champ? What flavor?”

“Chocolate!” Leo exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. And my God, Johnny was looking at a mirror that reflected a younger version of him.

“Chocolate,” Johnny repeated, sighing with relief. “Perfect. You picked the best one, buddy.” A laugh escaped him, as he lifted his hand to high five Leo. 

Leo lifted himself on his tiptoes to high five with all his strength, and grinned wider, satisfied with the validation. 

“And for you? Strawberry?” Johnny glanced up at you, offering the same flavor you'd always pick all those years back.

“Strawberry,” you nodded, biting back a smile.

Something flickered in Johnny’s face at that…soft recognition, just like in the coffee shop, the memories he still kept present on his head. He only nodded, turning back to the counter.  “Got you.”

Leo chattered beside you, eyes glued to the toppings bar as he talked about the things he learned at school that day. Johnny listened, his hands busy ordering, but his heart caught on the sound of it…the normalcy, the ease, the way you stood with your son like this was the most natural scene in the world. When he brought the bowls back a few minutes later, balancing them carefully, the thought of setting something down at a table that belonged to the three of you made him feel warm inside. Leo climbed into his chair, elbows on the table, grabbing the pink spoon. But before he even took a bite, he extended his free hand over the table, his eyes darting straight to Johnny.

“I’m Leo Spencer,” he introduced himself, realizing this man had just bought him ice cream and he didn’t even know what he was called. “What’s your name?”

Johnny froze with his own spoon halfway to his mouth, dipping it back in the ice cream to stretch the tiny hand in front of him. “Uh…I’m Johnny.” He said, deciding to leave his last name out for now. After the most serious handshake of his life, Leo let go of Johnny’s hand and propped his chin on it to continue his questioning. 

“Where do you live? Why haven’t I seen you before? Are you from Mom’s work? You don’t look like a professor–”

“Leo…” You drawled, nudging the ice cream closer to him, but he just kept staring at Johnny.

“Wow, slow down, kiddo. You don’t mess around, huh?” Johnny said, wide eyed, grinning nervously.

Leo shrugged. “I’m five and a half. People always think I don’t notice stuff, but I do.” He took a giant bite of chocolate with sprinkles, cheeks puffed out as he chewed. “Where are you from?”

You’d told him Leo was a little wonder, that he asked a lot of questions. Turns out you weren’t exaggerating. Johnny glanced at you, panic flickering his eyes, but you just shook your head slowly ‘not yet’.

So Johnny cleared his throat and smiled. “I’m from…far away.”

Leo narrowed his eyes suspiciously, like he didn’t buy it, like he was sure he’d heard that same answer somewhere else. He just decided to save it to the back of his mind, as he dug back into his ice cream, completely unaware of how close his little questions would crack a new entire world open. Johnny shifted in his chair, trying to keep his grin steady, but his collar felt like it was choking him. Heat crawled up his neck, his palms still damp, and not the fire kind, just pure, human nerves. He hadn't felt like that in years, 

Great, he thought, the Human Torch is actually sweating because a five year old has him under a white spotlight. 

Finally, he decided to ditch his jacket and placed it on the empty chair beside him, leaving him only in a white shirt that fit him too tightly, rolling his shoulders like it might cool him down. Your eyes darted all over his torso, catching the way the fabric was practically fighting for its life from all the defined muscle under that shirt. 

Christ, he still dresses so unfairly good, you thought. But before your mind could go somewhere more inappropriate, Leo’s sharp eyes immediately focused on the strange device around Johnny’s wrist.

“Whoa,” he breathed, pointing with his spoon. “What’s that?”

Johnny stilled, and slowly lifted his arm, pointing at the device that you once had to leave behind.   

“Your watch,” Leo pressed, leaning across the table to look at it closer. “It’s not round like normal ones. It looks like a time machine on your wrist! Did you buy it because it looks futuristic? Or, wait–” His face lit up as his brain went faster than his mouth. “Does it have a secret special function?”

“Uh–no, no secret functions.” He said, too quickly. “Definitely not a time machine, either. It’s, uh…” He cleared his throat, fingers tugging nervously at the strap. “It’s kind of for work. Special…equipment. Helps me stay connected, keep track of things.”

“So like a gadget?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, nodding quickly. “Exactly, a gadget. Just work stuff.”

“Does it at least light up?” Leo asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It does!” Johnny exhaled, relieved that he could at least indulge him on one thing, lifting his wrist and tapping the screen until it glowed faintly.

“That’s so cool!” Leo gasped, delighted. “Your job must be really fun.”

“Yeah buddy…it is.”

Johnny couldn’t stop smiling, watching his son bounce in his seat, utterly fascinated with something that had become so ordinary to him. Something that was his everyday. And that made him realize how dangerous his “Fantastic” world would look through those bright eyes, and how much he already wanted to shield him from it. So Johnny just sat there, watching him. He saw what Leo saw, the shine of the watch, the promise of technology, the thrill of secrets. A kid too bright, too curious, too hungry for answers to ever fit inside this little town forever.

But Johnny also saw beyond that.The flashing cameras, the crowds screaming their names, the endless scrutiny. The missions that went wrong, the villains that crawled out of the shadows. Through Leo’s wide eyes, it looked like magic. Through Johnny’s, it looked like the very thing that could swallow a boy whole. His hand curled over the watch instinctively, as though shielding it from view. 

God, he’s already too big for this city, Johnny thought. But my world? Is he ready for that? 

He looked at you then, and for once, he understood. He understood the fear that made you hide him away, the way you’d fought to keep him small, safe, unburned by the fire Johnny carried. And it hit him, how much you’d already given up just to give your son a chance at peace.

Leo was already on to his next fascination, spoon abandoned as he scrambled to kneel on the seat, finger pressed to the glass. “Look! A monarch!” he squealed, his voice bouncing with excitement. “Mom, do you see it? The wings are orange with black edges, but the male has two black spots, so that means it’s a female…”

You leaned to look, smiling. And Johnny just watched him, behind eyes that showed wonder and grief. His son was pure brightness, delighting in a butterfly like it was the greatest treasure in the world. For now, his world was small, golden, safe. When Leo finally peeled his eyes from the butterfly and spun back toward the table, his focus went again to Johnny.  

“So, what should I call you? Mom says it’s not polite to use a first name basis with older people,” Leo said looking at you. You nodded in agreement. 

“Older people? Doesn’t sound like me,” Johnny scoffed playfully, shaking his head like he was offended. “I’m just…Johnny.” 

“Okay…Johnny.” Leo tested, and Johnny almost melted right there. Maybe one day he could call him something different. “If your watch was a time machine, would you use it?”

The question caught him off guard, but he knew the answer. God, if only…if only he could go back in time, he’d undo every mistake, catch you before you slipped through his fingers. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to you. “I would.”

“To what time?” 

The answer came out before Johnny could stop it. “About six or five years ago. Without a doubt.”

You stared at him, and Johnny didn’t look away, he held your gaze, his blue eyes full of everything he couldn’t say in front of your son. The silence was heavy, tense, until Leo broke it with a shrug.

“Six or five…I would’ve picked something cooler, like dinosaurs...not many relevant things happened five years ago." He said, in all of his innocence. 

A small laugh slipped from your throat, the ache of it all suddenly turning bittersweet. Johnny’s lips twitched, but his eyes never left yours. “Well, something pretty important happened.”

Leo blinked, tilting his head. “What?”

“You were born.” 

Leo’s grin grew instantly, wide and toothy, and still devastatingly innocent. “Oh! That is important.”

Johnny’s words hung in the air, but distracted yourself by wiping a spot of chocolate on Leo’s cheek with a napkin. And the little action allowed Johnny, for one fragile second, to let himself drift. And he could picture it, the three of you sitting there every other day after school. Leo demolishing his ice cream, you wiping chocolate from his cheeks, Johnny learning butterfly facts. A life that wasn’t stolen, that wasn’t scorched. A life where he was there for every silly question, every science fair, every smudge of chocolate. Just for that infinite, delusional minute, he let himself believe that maybe, he still could. 

Leo twirled his spoon in the empty bowl, then looked up at Johnny with that bright, assessing stare he always had when something caught his interest.

“Johnny,” he said casually, “I have a collection of books at home. About space, animals, and inventions. I could…show you one day–if mom says yes.” He blurted the words out quickly, hesitant. 

Your brows lifted slightly. You knew that move. Leo had done it before, using his “book collection” as an excuse to draw certain people in, to test if they were worth his time. His teachers, a neighbor he liked, the old librarian he adored. It was his quiet way of saying, you intrigue me. I want to know more. And he didn’t even know that now he was offering it to his father. Just that he was intrigued by him. Johnny's eyes were wide, stunned by the offer. He looked at you, like he too was asking for permission. 

“Of course, Leo. If you’d like, we can do that.” You finally nodded, smiling at him. 

Leo lit up, like you just told him he could go play with the neighbor, and turned back to Johnny. “Cool! I’ll show you the one about Mars first, it has fold out pages with diagrams…you’ll like it.”

Johnny let out a shaky laugh, his eyes going soft when he looked at you. He didn’t say it aloud, but the gratitude was written all over his face. Thank you for letting me in. 

“I have to catch up with some grading today, though,” you announced, gesturing Leo to get up. “So the books will have to wait for another day.”

Johnny’s heart gave a little jolt. Another day. It shouldn’t sting as much as it did, but it did. He managed a crooked smile. “That’s fair, I can wait.”

The truth was…no, he couldn't. 

Leo stood up, brushing the topping’s crumbs off his pullover like a little gentleman. “It was nice to meet you, Johnny,” he said seriously, extending his small hand like he’d done earlier.

Johnny blinked, caught off guard, but was more than happy to reach out. His big hand swallowed Leo's, and he gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you too, Leo.”

Leo. Maybe one day he’d get to call him son.

You pressed your lips together to hide a smile, taking Leo’s hand while Johnny stood awkwardly by the table, unsure how to end this. When you turned toward him, you found him already looking at you, but neither of you knew how to say goodbye. So Johnny leaned in, hesitating for a heartbeat. You did too, freezing when his warm lips brushed your cheek. It was careful, light, painfully ephemeral, then he stepped back. Leo definitely noticed something, his sharp little eyes flicking between the two of you. But he decided to keep that saved on the back of his mind too, so he didn’t say a word.

Outside, the sun was almost completely set, and Johnny walked you both to the car. He stood by as you buckled Leo into his car seat, his small head already lolling against the cushion, tired from the day. Only when you slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door did Johnny finally step back, walking to his car. You buckled in, and turned the key. The engine choked a noise once, then again. and then…nothing. You closed your eyes, exhaling. 

“Come on, not now,” you whined, giving the steering wheel a little smack.

From the backseat, the noise startled Leo from his half sleep state. He leaned forward in his booster, sighing like a little stressed out man. “It’s the battery, mom,” he declared, almost scolding. “You forgot to ask Mr. Barnes to change it last week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yes, thank you, Leo. Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome.”

You tried the ignition one more time and…nothing. A quiet curse slipped past your lips, when headlights flashed across the street, and Johnny’s truck pulled up beside you, his window sliding down smoothly. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

You closed your eyes for a second, gripping the wheel tighter, as if that would make the ground swallow you whole. You actually hadn’t forgotten to change the battery, you were just waiting for that month’s check to do it. And of course this happened in front of him. 

“Car’s being stubborn.” You shrugged, forcing a half smile.

“Let me take a look.” Johnny slid out of his truck, rounding your car. “Pop the hood, please,” he said, already rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. You did as he said, and lost sight of him as he inspected the mess of wires and metal. “Yep,” he said finally, closing the hood with a grimace and walking to your window. “Battery’s dead.”

You sighed. Behind you, Leo had slumped sideways in his booster, out cold with the sugar crash.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand down your face. “Just great. It’s getting dark, and I can’t even–”

“Hey,” Johnny cut in softly, catching the panic in your voice. 

“I can’t leave my car here overnight, it’ll–”

“Hey, hey.” He leaned closer to your window, his voice steady and coaxing, the way you used to hear him talk to Franklin when the kid was overwhelmed. His eyes searched yours, trying to give you some of his warmth without even touching you. “It’s okay. I got it, alright? Let me help.”

You shook your head, words tumbling out too fast. “No, I can’t ask you–”

“You’re not asking,” he interrupted gently, already reaching for the watch on his wrist. “I’m offering. Let me handle it. Just…trust me with this one.” His thumb hovered over the screen, but his eyes kept locked on yours. Reluctantly, you finally nodded. Johnny exhaled, shoulders loosening just slightly, and gave you the faintest smile. “Good. I’ll make a call.”

He stepped back to speak to his watch like some secret spy. You snorted, you were so used to it back in New York, yet here it looked ridiculous. After a few minutes he hung up the call, walking back to you with a confident nod. “Tow’s on the way. They’ll handle the car tonight.”

You exhaled, rubbing your forehead thinking how on earth you were going to pay for a tow service and also a new battery. Still, you gave him a grateful nod. “Okay. Thank you, Johnny.”

He glanced toward Leo, passed out in the backseat, then back to you. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Johnny–you don’t even have a car seat in that ridiculous truck.”

“So? we’ll move yours, problem solved.” He shrugged, like it was obvious.

Your laugh cracked out, nervous and tired. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Johnny said, already circling to the back door. “It’s fine, I got him.”

You got out of your car, chewing the inside of your cheek, before whispering, “I’m sorry. I usually deal with this stuff on my own.”

Johnny froze for a second, his hand resting on the doorframe. The words hit him harder than they should have, a quiet knife sliding between his ribs. He looked back at you, and made another promise.

“You won’t have to anymore,” he said softly. His gaze flicked to Leo through the car window, then back to you. “Not anymore, you have me now.”

All you could do was nod, if you didn’t want to start crying in the middle of the street. You rounded the car, unlatching the car seat straps while Johnny got the booster out, with Leo sleeping soundly on it, and brought it to his truck. 

“Alright,” he said cheerfully, placing it on the backseat and tugging at one of the buckles with that characteristic Storm confidence. “How hard can this be?”

“Famous last words.” You shook your head amused. You climbed the backseat from the other side, hovering over Leo in the booster, while Johnny leaned in from the other side, with the car door open. 

And…you were right. It didn’t help that it was already dark outside, and the small dome light from the truck didn’t help much either. Johnny had never felt more useless, yet he refused to use his flames as a light source, he was not taking the risk of the truck catching fire and sending his son to the hospital. It didn’t take long before he grunted, twisting the latch the wrong way for the fourth time.

“Oh come on,” he whined. “It just…doesn’t fit right.” 

“Because you’re doing it wrong!” You shot back, reaching across to fix it. Your fingers brushed his, both of you fumbling in the cramped space, bumping shoulders while trying to avoid bothering Leo as he snored softly through the chaos. “Move over,” you hissed.

“I am over!” he hissed back, his head knocking yours as he leaned closer. Your hands grazed again on the buckle, cold against warm, before you yanked yours back, face heating between frustration and nerves from being so close to him. 

“It’s this stupid truck, I had no problem putting this on my car–also, Franklin literally had one of these, Johnny. You should know how these work.”

“Yeah sure, it’s the truck.” He huffed at your annoyance on his extravagant vehicle choice. “And by the way, Franklin’s seat had a green light, alright? Reed made sure you knew when it clicked right. This thing’s–” He tugged at the strap again, scowling. “...old school. No lights.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Baxter Building, not all of us get high tech seats that practically latch themselves!”

Johnny looked up, mock offended, grinning like the little shit he was just to piss you off more. “Hey! It didn’t latch on its own–we still struggled to put it on the car.”

“See? It had a stupid green light and you still struggled.” You teased, but your amusement was cut short when you bumped heads again, hard, and Leo stirred under you.

The two of you stared at each other across the half installed seat, exasperated, Leo already on cloud nine while you acted like bickering newlyweds. Before this kept getting ridiculous, Johnny huffed, stepping back. 

“Okay, listen–clearly this isn’t working.” He announced, like it wasn't obvious already. “How about this, you set it up, and I’ll…” His gaze flicked to Leo slumped in the straps, and his voice went soft. “…I’ll hold him, so you can place it properly.”

“...Alright.” You unbuckled Leo from the seat. Johnny stepped close, arms out as he welcomed him into his arms. He cradled his small body against his chest, and for a moment, the world stilled. Leo heavy and warm in his arms, his little breaths puffing against Johnny’s shirt. 

He was holding his son for the second time, and he’d count every single one that came after this one too. Johnny could only give you a nervous smile as he whispered, “Okay, your turn.”

And with Leo safe in his hold, you crouched down to wrestle the stubborn seat into place. Your heart racing, hands fumbling, because every time you looked up, there he was…Johnny Storm, holding your son like he’d been waiting more than six years for the chance. You tugged the last strap into place, and wiped your palms on your jeans.

“There, we got it.” You sighed, but Johnny didn’t move. He stood there, dissociating  from reality, Leo tucked safe against his chest. He had one big hand spread across Leo’s back, the other carefully cupping his head of blonde hair. 

“Johnny?” you tried gently.

“Mm?” He barely looked at you, rocking Leo without realizing, his thumb brushing soothing circles over the fabric of his little pullover.

“The car seat’s been ready for a few minutes.”

His head snapped up. “Right–yeah, yeah…of course.” He chuckled, blushing, but still didn’t move to set Leo down.

“Are you planning on taking him home like that?” you teased softly, biting back a smile.

For a second he looked like he might argue. Because he’s Johnny Storm and he could fly him home if he wanted to, but then again, he wasn’t going to risk a burn. So then he sighed, lowering Leo reluctantly into the seat, as if every inch of distance physically hurt. He buckled him in with careful hands, lingering just a second too long to brush back his hair before stepping away.

“Sorry, I just…didn’t want to let go yet.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from thinking too much about it. Johnny walked away as you climbed out the backseat, already holding the passenger seat’s door open for you. 

“Thank you, Johnny.” You smiled. He nodded, smiling back as he closed the door once you were inside.

From the corner of your eye you could see the tow finally arriving, and let out a relieved sigh as they took care of your car. Once Johnny saw it was being handled properly, he finally moved his. Closing shops and trees in shades of orange blurred past as the truck rolled through the calm streets of your town. Johnny drove with the window down, the evening wind making a mess of his hair. His left elbow was propped casually on the door, right hand steady on the wheel, only letting it go to turn on the radio. A rock country song came on. It was just supposed to be background noise really, something chill that filled the silence. Yet you couldn’t help but pick on the lyrics. 

Someone told me long ago, there's a calm before the storm 

I know, it's been comin' for some time

You had your calm before the storm. Before the Storm. But you always knew he would eventually find you, it was only a matter of time. As his profile was lit faintly by the street lamps, you couldn't help your eyes from wandering. At least he seemed lost enough in his own head to not notice you were staring. Time had treated him well. He was still Johnny, of course, his outfit looking far ahead of his time like always. Pants too tight, cropped brown leather jacket, trendy Adidas. But you saw the weight of the years you’d missed as smile lines were starting to carve deeper into his skin, and his blonde hair surely hid baby grey hairs. But God help you, no matter how much time went by, he looked as handsome as ever. 

You turned to Leo to distract yourself from Johnny, and saw Leo slumped sideways in the car seat, mouth open, absolutely gone. A faint trace of drool smeared the collar of his little pullover.

“Kid’s out cold.” Johnny chuckled, his gaze flicking to the rearview mirror.

“Sugar crash…always gets him.” You laughed under your breath, crossing your arms around yourself.

Johnny bit his bottom lip, shaking his head a little. “He drools exactly like me.”

“That, I can’t argue with you.” You laughed once more, catching Johnny’s smile going sad as he looked in the mirror again. “Are you…okay?” You dared to ask. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how all of this was affecting him.

Johnny hesitated for a moment, his hand tapping the wheel absentmindedly before letting out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.” He said, his eyes locked on the road ahead. “You know, when Franklin was born, I thought he was the coolest kid on the planet. Smart as hell, funny, just…this little marvel.” He smiled, and you nodded because you remembered how wonderful he was. “I was so damn proud to be his uncle. I didn’t think there could ever be a kid like that again. But…then I met him.” His eyes flicked to the mirror once more, where Leo drooled away on his collar. Johnny’s smile grew wider, eyes softening.

“My son. The one you raised. And he’s…he’s more than everything. Brilliant, curious, polite. With his own little quirks. You made him into this amazing person, and I can’t even explain how proud I am. And I only met him properly, like what, two hours ago?” He chuckled. “You did a hell of a job, you know that? All on your own, and he’s…perfect. So, thank you. For keeping him safe. For protecting him from all the mess that comes with me.” Johnny glanced at you, still with crossed arms, then quickly back to the road before finally saying what had been haunting his mind since the yogurt shop. “I get it now, you know…why you kept him away. My world, it’s not meant for a kid with a normal life…” Johnny hesitated, before adding, “However,  you know he deserves better than this town. He’s too big for it already.”

Your fingers twisted in your lap, eyes fixed out the window as the trees rolled past. Finally, you exhaled, words spilling like you’d been holding them too long.

“You’re right,” you admitted quietly, eyes fixed out the window. “I know this town won’t hold him forever. He’s…too much. Too smart, too curious. I’ve had a plan in the back of my head for years. Move to a bigger city when I can. Somewhere with better schools, better programs, kids like him. People who challenge him everyday.”

Johnny nodded slowly, biting his cheek before daring. “Well, that’s what the First Steps program is for. And it doesn’t just apply to New York. You know that, right? You could’ve applied for him to be part of it without ever stepping foot in our world. Without ever having to deal with me, with us, with the name. Just…the opportunities.”

“Johnny, that’s literally how you found me. And I was very careful with her application, yet it still backfired on me.” Your disbelieving scoff came out sharper than you intended, as you finally turned toward him. “ I was never putting Leo’s photo on your desk.That’s the exact opposite of what I wanted.”

“Yes, but you still could have–”

“No, Johnny. I couldn’t put him in a world that once promised me all those things. Opportunities, belonging, a family, a home.” Your lip quivered, but you pushed the words out anyway. “Because I know how it ends. We all know how it ended.”

“Yeah…I know,” he exhaled. “I was the worst. And my family was the worst. We failed you. God, we failed you so bad. If I knew then what I know now…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “But I still think you could’ve at least told me. All these years, you could’ve called. Said, hey Johnny, you have a son. You really think I would’ve turned that down? You think I wouldn’t have–” he cut himself short, taking a deep breath. “God, I would’ve never ignored him. Never.”

“And what would’ve become of that, huh? Back then?” You snapped. “You thought I was a traitor. You looked at me like I’d stabbed you in the back. You and your family would’ve taken Leo from me in a heartbeat. And you would’ve shut me out all over again.”

“We wouldn’t have.” Was all he could say, but even he wasn’t sure if he believed that. 

“You don’t know that.” You shook your head. “Look–it shouldn't have been the way it was, we both know that. And I’m sorry my decisions cost Leo his father. I’m truly sorry that you missed everything. The first words. The first steps. The first everything. But I couldn’t let you just have him…and you said you understood why.”

“...Yeah,” he whispered. “I did.” 

He felt like there was more to be said, like you still had stuff to get out of your systems, but he was tired of fighting with you over things he couldn't change. So for now, he “understood why.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. You came to a stop in your driveway, your own car already parked there. A tow truck was nearby, the driver waiting with clipboard in hand. You slipped out of the car to meet him, still shaken from your conversation with Johnny. “Wow, that was fast,” you breathed, taking the clipboard.

“We’ll swap the battery out in the morning, first thing.” He smiled politely.

Great. The morning. When everything was already chaotic with Leo. 

You bit your lip, scanning the page to see how much of your month’s income was going to this whole mess. “Okay, how much do I–”

“Already covered,” he cut in with a shrug, handing you the receipt.

“Covered?”

Johnny’s voice came from behind. “Just sign it.” He said softly, biting back a smile.

You glanced over your shoulder. He was climbing out of the truck, Leo drooling against his shoulder, fast asleep in his arms. Johnny shifted him higher, one big hand bracing his back.

At this point you were too tired to bicker over a receipt, so you turned back to the driver, signing it. “Alright. Tomorrow morning, then, thank you.”

He tipped his hat and stepped back. By the time you reached the porch, Johnny was already waiting. He tilted his head toward the door, a nervous smile on his face said a silent plea. Let me.

“You can put him to bed,” you whispered, almost laughing at the absurdity of saying it twice in two nights.

Johnny celebrated, but kept it small, just a subtle little fist pump at his side, like he couldn’t risk being loud with Leo now drooling on his shoulder. And then he stepped inside, carrying his son down the hall like it was the most natural thing in the world. You followed quietly, lingering in the doorway as Johnny bent to tuck Leo under the same soft blanket, brushing his hair back with tenderness. He pressed a kiss to his forehead again, then straightened, giving the room one last look before slipping past you back to the living room. 

He paused at the door, once again unsure on how to say goodbye to you. You sighed, leaning forward just enough to hug him briefly. His arms hesitated, then wrapped around you, strong and warm. And God, you hadn’t felt that warmth in so long. 

“Thank you,” you whispered into his shirt. “For…everything.”

“Anytime.” He whispered into your hair. 

You pulled back, managing a small tired smile. “You can come tomorrow after homework. He’ll want to show you his books.”

“After homework? Yeah, yeah, I can be here after homework.” He nodded quickly, making you laugh. “Oh–give me your car keys, I’ll move Leo’s seat from my car to yours.” He added, looking far too enthusiastic about it for someone who didn’t even know how to do it. “I’ll figure it out, just…let me help. Pretty please.” He smiled sheepishly, making a grabby gesture with his hand held up. 

Something told you he was plotting something, but then again, you were too tired for this stuff. So you narrowed your eyes and nodded, taking the keys out of your pocket and placed them on his palm. “Okay. Just put them under the rug when you are done.” 

And that’s how Johnny Storm walked out of your house with a grin bigger than the cheshire cat, and your car keys dangling from his hand. He barely caught the tow driver before he drove away, jogging to catch up with him through the window of the tall truck.

“Hey! tomorrow morning?”

The man nodded. “I’ll be back around nine.”

“Make it earlier,” Johnny said, pulling a folded bill from his wallet and sliding it into the man’s hand. “I’ll be here around 7 to deal with it.”

The driver raised a brow, but only tipped his hat and agreed, before finally driving away. Johnny glanced back at the house, at the faint light still glowing through the curtains. Tomorrow, when you woke up, your car would already be good to go before you even had to think about it. One less burden on your shoulders. To him, being a hero always meant fire. It meant cameras, news headlines, cheering crowds. A suit that Reed designed and a symbol the whole world talked about. Well, except for this town you had meticulously picked. 

But this, for once, wasn’t about his flames or saving cities.

This was about making sure you didn’t wake up stressed about a dead battery. About making sure you got Leo ready for school without worrying about how you’d pay for it. About showing up when no one was watching, when no one would clap or write about it. He left with your car keys in his pocket; he would need them the next day to deal with the battery and move the booster back in actual daylight. 

And that’s when Johnny realized this was the kind of superhero he wanted to be. Not the Human Torch. But a man who showed up. A father.

As soon as Johnny pulled into his hotel room, he checked his phone. He’d silenced the thing since the night before, only using his watch to make that emergency tow call. Now, he couldn't ignore the notifications stacked in rows that flooded the screen.

Sue: Johnny, have you found her?

Sue: Why aren’t you answering? Please don’t shut us out.

Sue: Seriously Johnny? Radio silence isn’t like you. 

Ben: Come on, J. Say something. Sue is planning to come find you if you don’t talk to us.

Reed: Your sister is worried. Please report back.

Normally he would toss back some joke to ease the tension, or…Sue’s worry would crack his resolve. His thumb hovered over the screen, and for a second, he thought about typing out the truth. 

I found her. I found her, and I found him. I have a son. He’s perfect. You have to meet him.

God, he wanted it. Wanted Sue to squeal with joy, wanted Ben to laugh and clap his back, wanted Reed to be floored by how brilliant Leo was. Wanted Franklin to finally meet the cousin who could rival him. They’d all love him. They’d adore him. 

But Leo wasn’t theirs. He was Johnny’s.

And he wasn’t ready to let anyone else near him. Not until he’d earned it. Not until he’d had more than two nights of carrying his son to bed, more than a single ice cream run, more than a handful of hours with him. And you had just started to trust him. If he opened his mouth too soon, if he let this secret slip to the family before you were ready, it would be betrayal. And he had already done that to you once. As much as he hated to admit it, Johnny finally understood why you had hidden Leo away. Because if he could, if it meant keeping Leo safe and his for just a little longer…he’d hide him too. So he settled for that.

Johnny: I found her, I’m trying to fix it. Everything’s okay, I promise I’ll explain everything when I get home. 

The morning was chaos from the second you opened your eyes. You rushed through the kitchen in unbuttoned sleeves, barefoot, hair barely tamed, Leo bouncing at your heels in his uniform and his backpack half zipped. He always followed you around full of questions before you’d even had your first sip of coffee. Then came the knock on the door. 

“Battery guy,” you groaned, breathless. “Hang on, honey.”

You yanked the door open, ready to rush through instructions while keeping an eye on the five year old battling with fitting as many books as possible on his backpack. But the man outside simply gave you a smile, holding his clipboard and something else behind his back. 

“All set,” he said. “Battery’s in, the car’s good to go.”

“What? How did you–I thought I had to–”

“Nope.” He cut you off softly. “The guy who hired me showed up early, made sure everything was in order…Oh–and he said to give you this, and this.”

He handed you the car keys, and a box of cereal. Lucky Charms, Leo’s favorite. A neon post-it with handwriting you recognized immediately was attached to it. 

Thought you might be running low. Good morning :) Tell Leo good morning too.

“Oh,” you blurted, clutching the box. “T-thanks…”

The man gave you a final nod and left. You stood in the doorway, cereal in your hands, your son’s voice echoing behind you. Johnny hadn’t crowded your morning. He’d respected your request to come after homework. But he’d been there, quiet but still present. You glanced down at the post-it again, warmth prickling your eyes. It was such a simple thing. Except it wasn't. 

You closed the door, walking to Leo who was already at the breakfast table and set the box down in front of him. “Johnny sent these for you, baby.”

“Lucky charms!” He exclaimed excitedly, but he paused mid reach, blinking up at you. His little smile spread wide, but there was a flicker of something else behind it when he noticed the sheen in your eyes.

“Mommy, where did you say Johnny was from again? Like…how do you know him?”

You met his sharp little eyes, and felt a knot in your stomach. He’d asked this before, so you gave him the same answer you always did. “He’s from somewhere far away, sweetheart. That’s all. Don’t think too much about it.”

Leo nodded, but his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. He tucked the information into his personal database once again, his little brain already putting pieces together. 

Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you

Johnny timed it all out in his head in the morning. If you picked Leo up from school at three, gave him a snack, and he did his homework for about an hour or two…then four thirty felt safe. Not too early, not too late. Right after homework. Right enough to show he respected your rhythm and your space.

He had spent the earlier part of the afternoon wandering the small town shops, trying to figure out what to bring. A toy store had caught his eye, but nothing felt right. Leo wasn’t that type of kid. Sure, he liked cars like any kid his age would, but the bookshelf in his room, the way he blurted facts like a mini Reed spoke louder to him. So Johnny had walked out with a puzzle instead. Something they could build together. Normally he’d rather set himself on fire than sit still for something like that, but the thought of sitting on the floor with Leo, fitting pieces until they made sense, suddenly seemed like the most fun he could have.

Then came the grocery store. He remembered seeing a book of recipes somewhere on your counter. So he filled a cart like it was his own kitchen, even if he’d never done it before. Different types of milk because he didn’t know which one you preferred, vegetables, more cereal, pasta, pantry staples. He snuck in some oreos and ice cream because why not. He walked out with enough bags to nearly overflow the truck. He almost grabbed flowers too, but stopped himself. Too much, Johnny. Get it together.

Which is how he found himself outside your door, arms stacked with too many paper bags that were dangerously balanced. He couldn’t even knock properly, so he leaned his weight on one foot and tapped the door gently with his sneaker. The door swung open and there was Leo, looking up at him, or more accurately, multiple paper bags and Johnny’s hidden face behind. 

“Hello?”

Johnny peeked over the side. “Hey, champ.”

“Mommy! Johnny’s here!” Leo yelled back into the house, before stepping aside with wide eyes to let him in.

You appeared from the kitchen, stopping dead at the sight. “What on earth is all of that?”

Johnny shuffled inside carefully, balancing the groceries stacked to his chin. “Uh…food?”

“For an entire football team?” 

Johnny tilted the bags a little higher since they were starting to slip from his hands. “I just…thought maybe your pantry could use some stuff.”

“Johnny. That’s–what, half a grocery store?” You chuckled, walking over to him to help with some bags and took them to the kitchen.

He laughed nervously, following you and finally setting the bags down on the counter with a loud exhale. “Yeah, well…figured milk and vegetables and, you know…stuff. There’s more in the car, I…might’ve gone overboard.”

Your first thought, naturally, was how you didn’t need him to sweep in and buy out half the town’s grocery store. But then you caught his face. There was no wink, no “look what I did.” He was actually sheepish…and incredibly happy to help. As if unloading those paper bags onto your counters was the highlight of his week. It tore down another one of your walls.

You leaned against the counter, and just watched. Watched him line up two more cereal boxes next to the three already crammed on your counter. Watched him set down a bag of broccoli he hated but your son probably didn’t. God, he hoped he didn't. Watched him hold up a mesh bag of potatoes, glancing at you asking for instructions.

“Where do these go?” he asked, brow furrowed, so earnestly lost in your tiny kitchen.

“Uh…the basket next to the stove,” you said. 

He nodded, putting them away, humming under his breath as he dug through the rest. “And…popcorn? Where in the pantry?” 

“Bottom shelf,” you answered automatically, biting back a smile and the damn tears at the same time.

Because it hit you then. Hard.

This was the life you once wanted. The one you pretended you didn’t care about. Someone who took care of your car problems. Someone in your kitchen, sleeves rolled, groceries spread across the counter. Not just anyone…Leo’s father. 

Johnny.

Present. Thoughtful. Doing the most significant insignificant things. Just him, you and your son. Every day. It was delusional, you knew that. But sometimes that was the solution. As you stood there, the picture was too vivid for you to ignore. You had to put away some stuff in the fridge so he wouldn’t see the hurt in your face.

Two days, and he was doing his best to undo part of the damage he’d caused so long ago. And it terrified you that it might've been working. Still, as you stole one more glance at him clumsily stacking pasta bags, knocking over some spices and barely catching them, you couldn’t help but think, I can almost pretend this is us.

Leo had managed to lure Johnny away from the boring paper bags and guided him to the bookshelf in his room when you got distracted, practically vibrating with excitement. Johnny folded himself down onto the puff in the corner, as Leo started grabbing his favorite books from the shelf and plopping them onto Johnny’s lap. He laughed under his breath, running a hand through his hair as the stack grew quickly, one by one.

“This one,” Leo started, tapping the first. “This one’s about animals from the rainforest. The illustrations are interesting. And this one, it’s about space, and the author is my favorite. Oh, and this one has the best drawings of dinosaurs, you’ll love it–look, look, you can see the scales on this one…”

Johnny’s eyes softened, glassy in the dim lamp light. He wasn’t looking at the books. He was looking at Leo. He’d never felt like he belonged anywhere more than he did now. Sinking into a beanbag, knees bent awkwardly, his son piling book after book onto him, talking so fast his words tripped over each other. You lingered in the doorway of Leo’s room, leaning against the frame, as Johnny’s lap became a bookshelf of its own, when he suddenly remembered. 

“Hey–uh, could you do me a favor?” he asked you, glancing toward the hallway. “There’s a blue bag by the others I brought in. Can you grab it? I’d stand up but…” He gestured helplessly at the leaning tower of books weighing him down that Leo kept piling stuff on.

Suspicion flickered across your face, but you went anyway, returning with the bag dangling from your fingers. You handed it over with curiosity. He mouthed a thanks, then grinned at Leo. 

“It’s for you, buddy,” he said, holding it out to him.

Leo’s eyes went wide, the books forgotten as he peeked inside, then gasped. “A puzzle?” He pulled out the box, turning it around to study the picture. A swirling nebula, galaxies spilling across the cardboard in oranges and blues. 

“It’s the Carina Nebula! Mom, the Carina Nebula! And a thousand pieces too, thank you Johnny!”

“Johnny…” You gasped at him in surprise, and he was just delighted to see so much emotion in Leo’s face from something Johnny considered less than ordinary a few days ago. 

But not anymore. From now on a thousand pieces puzzles were his favorite thing too. “Of course, bab–Leo.” 

Johnny almost slipped out a more personal nickname, but Leo was too busy tearing the box open and dropping the contents onto the carpet to notice. He scrambled his little fingers to start flipping the pieces over. He got up only to run and stand in front of Johnny, a huge grin on his face.

“You read this one, please.” Leo said breathlessly, shoving a book from the pile at Johnny “Read, read! I’ll sort the edges.”

Johnny chuckled, picking up the slim hardcover. “Yes, sir.” His voice softened as he opened the first page.

He looked up once, mid sentence, and caught your gaze. The way he smiled back made your chest ache in the best way possible.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“No, thank you,” he mouthed back.

You smiled, and walked out to put away the last of the stuff he brought while you finished up dinner. Johnny tilted the book closer to his face, squinting. The lamplight was weak, and his first instinct was the same one it had always been, just flare his hand and solve the problem without thinking. But then he froze. 

Because he couldn’t. Not in front of Leo, the kid didn’t even know yet. That’s when it hit him like a punch…he hadn’t used his powers since he got here. Not to save anyone, not to show off, not even to heat up a cup of coffee, and he hadn’t even realized it until now. So he just angled the book toward the light, cleared his throat, and kept reading, when Leo’s small voice cut through his storytelling.

“So…what exactly do you do for work?”

Johnny’s eyes went wide, lowering the book to see Leo looking at him with the same intensity Sue sometimes did. 

“Work?” He cleared his throat. “Well, I uh, do research on space stuff. You know…boring science things.”

“What kind of space stuff?” he pressed, the puzzle forgotten for a moment. 

Johnny forced a smile, leaning back against the beanbag. “Oh, you know trajectories, black holes…space.” He tried to brush it off, even when it was his favorite thing to talk about, just so the kid wouldn't pry further. 

Leo hummed, not convinced with the brief explanation. So he tilted his head, trying with a different question. “How long have you known mom?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive.” He said quietly. “Way longer.”

Leo gave another thoughtful little hum, pretending to be focused again on lining up puzzle edges. But Johnny caught it, that tiny, dramatic pause before he placed a piece down, the way his eyes narrowed and his lips twitched on the smallest smirk like he was silently declaring Gotcha. A Storm quirk if Johnny had ever seen one.

Johnny gulped. Because he had a feeling Leo wasn’t just curious…he was clocking him.

“Dinner’s ready!” Your yell from the kitchen cut right through the tension.

Johnny snapped the book shut like it had burned him. “Dinner’s ready!” he echoed, way too cheerfully, setting the books back on the low shelf as if nothing unusual had just happened. He ruffled Leo’s hair lightly. “We’ll get back to these over the next few days, buddy. No rush.”

Leo studied him, still with narrowed eyes that looked too much like Johnny’s own. Then, with a little nod, he got up and walked to the living room’s bathroom. Johnny exhaled, until Leo popped his head back around the doorframe and ordered. “Wash your hands.”

“…Right, of course.” He walked after him, chuckling under his breath. “Bossy, like his mom.”

Johnny had sat through hundreds of family dinners. You’d been part of them once, too. Ben in an apron, Herbert always helping while Johnny just tasted stuff and looked pretty. Everything was always polished, silver cutlery against fine white porcelain, shiny glass cups, not a single plate out of place.

And now here he was, at your small wood dining table. The plates didn’t match; yours had a painted baby blue rim, Leo’s was patterned with tiny colorful stars. And Johnny’s was something goofy, with cartoon astronauts smiling up at him. He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. He knew you picked it specifically for him. 

He loved it. 

Cups mismatched as well. Your mug was delicate with pretty spring flowers, Leo had a green plastic dinosaur cup, and Johnny had the orange plastic one with the built-in wavy straw. 

Yeah, that was targeted too. He loved it more. 

Leo dug in with his small plastic fork and occasionally his hands like a kid who knew he was loved enough not to be scolded for enjoying his meal. Johnny couldn’t stop staring at the little details. The cups, the plates, the way you smiled when Leo asked for seconds of broccoli. So he does like it, the thought, that’s my son. Here, there was no Herbert hovering nearby to meet their every need. Here, dinner wasn’t polished like back home, but it was perfect, because this was his new one. 

That’s how the rest of Johnny’s week went. Going after homework, bringing a new puzzle if Leo had finished the last one in record time, and dinner with you. Occasionally he would bring dinner too, some greasy takeout he definitely bribed you into by bringing fruit for Leo.

He was having the time of his life playing family with you. He felt like everyday he managed to tear down another row of bricks from the walls you’d built around yourself. But at the same time, the weight of the other family that waited for him back home kept breathing down his neck. Sue wasn’t happy at all, considering how uncharacteristically nonverbal Johnny was being to them, but he’d managed to keep her at bay with little white lies that weren’t actually white or little at all. 

Johnny just wasn’t ready to leave the only sense of normalcy he’d managed to build with you. 

I'd live and die for moments that we stole, on begged and borrowed time

Leo’s room was a mess of puzzle pieces, once again. Johnny sat cross legged, sleeves rolled up, sorting corners from edges. Leo took the sorted ones and tried to set up a start, but something seemed to rattle his little head, because he was having trouble matching the pieces together.

“Johnny,” Leo started casually, eyes fixed on the puzzle as he finally fitted two edge pieces correctly. “Have you ever wondered why we look so much alike?”

“Oh–uh…not really.” Lie. “Sometimes people just look similar. DNA can be weird, kid.” He shrugged, trying to sound casual. But he came off as too casual. “Random coincidences.” He laughed nervously.

“But you can only call it a coincidence if the DNA isn’t the same.” Leo said immediately, like he was waiting for a slip up like that to happen.

Johnny almost choked with his own spit. Shit. Why did he have to bring up DNA to his literal mini genius of a son?

“...The same?” Johnny panicked.

Leo looked up confidently. “Yeah. If the DNA is tied, you don’t call it a coincidence, you call it inheritance. That’s what makes people look alike. I learned about that today at school.” He stated, and Johnny’s stomach dropped. Leo leaned back on his little hands, squinting at him. “So is it a coincidence…or inheritance?”

“Leo…” He shook his head, trying to laugh it off. “Look, kiddo, I–”

“If it’s just coincidence, then just tell me we don’t have the same DNA.”

Johnny looked at his son, and every lie he could say to protect him from the truth died on his tongue. He wanted to bluff, to wave it away, to keep this little universe intact until you were ready. But as he stared into Leo’s bright, searching eyes, he couldn’t.

For God’s sake, he had to learn about that in school today. 

Leo just hummed at Johnny’s silence, like the puzzle pieces he’d been trying to put together in his own head had finally clicked. “Mommy lets you do things no one else does.” He added, still scrutinizing Johnny with his gaze. 

Johnny straightened in his cross legged position. “Like what, buddy?”

“She lets you be in my room and play with me. She lets you buy food for us. She lets you take us in your car. She thinks I don’t see it, but she never lets anyone do anything.” He shrugged. “It’s always just been mom and me...until you showed up.”

“Huh.” Johnny had to bite back a smile. “I guess…that just makes me pretty lucky, right?”

Leo shook his head. “Or important.”

Right now Johnny wished he had Sue’s powers to turn invisible. The gaze of the five year old on him was making him sweat. Again. And Leo wasn’t even done with his questioning. 

“Where are you really from? You never tell me.”

Johnny cleared his throat. “I told you buddy, somewhere far away.”

“You always say that. Mom always says that.” 

And that’s when it happened. Those bright, impossibly hopeful eyes narrowed, not suspicious anymore, more like he’d just solved the final clue in a mystery. Then, without hesitation, he dared to ask. 

“Are you…are you my dad?”

The world stopped. 

Johnny wanted to say yes a million times. He wanted to throw his arms around him and sob into his tiny shoulder and never let go. But he was terrified. This was not how he’d pictured the big reveal.

“Pizza’s here, you two!” From the living room, your oblivious voice broke the silence.

Neither of them moved. Leo tilted his head, curious at the silence he’d caused, but Johnny looked like he’d seen a ghost, his face pale, heart slamming like it was trying to escape out of his chest.

“Please don’t lie to me.” Leo’s voice came softer this time, too innocent, too vulnerable for Johnny to bear. “Are you?”

You appeared in the doorway, ready to scold them for not coming out when you called, but you caught the question Leo made. 

“Is he what?” You asked playfully.

But that’s when you saw Johnny's face, paper white as Leo stood in his spot, tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. Those sharp eyes darted from Johnny to you, then back to Johnny, and there was something about the way he was looking at him that made your stomach drop.

“Leo? What are you asking, baby?” 

“I’m asking Johnny if he’s my dad.”

Your wide eyes went to Johnny, but his gaze was fixed on the floor. “Why…why do you think that?”

“Because you always say my dad lives somewhere far away. And when I ask Johnny where he’s from, he says the same thing. And because we look alike.” He gestured between himself and Johnny, small hands waving in the air like Johnny did when he explained something. “Not just the hair, but the way I move, the way I talk. He looks like me, and I look like him, and that’s a fact. You can’t tell me that’s only a coincidence.”

You knew Johnny couldn't get a word out, he looked like he was about to pass out, and Leo wasn't letting it go either. So you sighed, walked to his little figure and dropped to your knees beside him, brushing a strand of hair back behind his ear, while your heart was trying to crawl out of your chest.

“Yes, baby.” You smiled through glassy eyes. “Johnny is your dad.”

Leo looked at you in silence, like he just found the final piece of the puzzle he’d been solving all this time inside his head. Then he turned to Johnny, eyes searching for a confirmation from the man itself. 

“Yeah, buddy.” Johnny’s voice came out shaky, holding back tears. “I’m dad.”

Leo studied him for what felt like eternity. He wasn’t angry, but he didn’t seem that surprised either. Then, he nodded once. “Okay.”

It was such a simple reaction, that Johnny almost sobbed in relief. Almost. Because then Leo tilted his head, and asked the real question Johnny wasn't ready for.

“Then where have you been all this time? Why were you so far away?” It wasn't exactly sad, or angry. It was just a child trying to understand why his father didn’t go see him once in the five years of his little life.

“Leo, things…were complicated,” Johnny managed to say, coaxing. “Complicated in ways I don’t think you’d understand yet.”

“Try me, I am very intelligent. I understand many things.”

The innocent argument earned a breathless laugh from Johnny, because God, he knew it was true. This kid could probably teach him a thousand things already. But he shook his head. “You do, buddy, you do. Just…not this.” He said softly. “I know I’ve missed a lot, but I’m here now, Leo. That’s what matters, I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

Leo watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” For once, he didn't feel like questioning everything. “But don’t miss anything else.”

And for Johnny, that little “okay” and that plea felt like the universe just gave him a second chance. So he nodded, maybe too quickly, but he was already feeling that familiar burning sensation behind his eyes. 

“Can I…hug you?” Leo asked quietly.

“What?” Johnny whispered, like maybe he didn’t hear right.

Leo shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve never hugged my dad before.”

Johnny’s heart stopped again. At this point he was gonna need a crash cart next to him. He nodded quickly, his whole body tilting forward, arms welcoming Leo as he launched right into them. Johnny clutched him so tight, one hand cradling the whole back of his head, the other wrapped around his tiny back, and he buried his face in his son’s shoulder.

“You have no idea,” Johnny choked, voice muffled, “How long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You stood in the doorway, tears burning your eyes, because the image was seared into you. Your son, safe in his father’s arms, and Johnny, finally holding the piece of his life he thought he was never getting back. It took forever before Johnny even loosened his arms. Finally, slowly, he leaned back just enough to see his son’s face. His hands cupped Leo’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over the soft skin like he was memorizing every detail. Johnny was crying, shameless tears, but smiled through it, shaking his head like he couldn't believe this was real.

“Look at you,” Johnny sobbed,“You’re perfect.”

Leo hit him with that toothy five year old grin, and Johnny melted. He kissed his forehead, his hair, the crown of his head, over and over, until Leo squirmed and started giggling. It was the kind of laugh that bubbled right out of his chest, because he’d never been loved like this by anyone but you, and now suddenly he had his dad too, the one he’d wished for every time he blew his birthday candles. 

Leo leaned back a little, pushing Johnny’s chest with his tiny hands, still giggling as he looked from Johnny to you. “Mommy…what should I call Johnny now?”

It was a question you never thought you’d hear…at least not so soon. You stared at your son, then at Johnny, who looked like he was seconds from fainting again, waiting for your answer.

“Whatever you want to call him, baby.”

Leo hummed, thinking hard for a moment, his little brow furrowed. Johnny’s breath got stuck in his throat. This is it, this is the moment, he was about to hear that word “Dad”, and it would kill him in the best way possible–

“Johnny.” Leo announced firmly. “Still Johnny. For now, mommy.”

Yeah. That killed him in the worst way possible. Still, he forced a nod, and somehow found the strength to smile. “Johnny’s perfect, buddy. I’ll take that.” Leo would be “buddy” for now too. He’ll save the word “son” for when he is ready to call him Dad. 

“Baby, Johnny and I need to talk, okay? Just for a little bit.” You cut in softly, gesturing Johnny to the hall with your head.

“Is it because I figured it out? Am I in trouble mommy?”

“No, no, of course not, baby.” You reassured, giving his cheek a little squeeze as Johnny finally got up from the beanbag. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, champ. Promise.” Johnny said, ruffling Leo’s hair playfully. 

Leo nodded, focusing back on the puzzle he’d abandoned on the floor. You closed the door softly behind you, walking down the hallway, stopping when you reached the living room.

“He figured it out.” Johnny was the first to speak, still stunned. “He actually figured it out on his own.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, still in disbelief.

“First, he asked me why we looked so alike,” Johnny said, pacing half a step, hands flailing like he always did. “And I panicked, right? I said some crap about coincidences and DNA, you know, like how it works sometimes.” He chuckled. “And you know what he said? He said it’s only a coincidence if the DNA isn’t the same. If it’s tied, it’s an inheritance. Said he learned that today at school.”

“Inheritance. Five years old, and he’s out here lecturing me like Reed.” This time you both chuckled. Johnny kept pacing, still buzzing with disbelief and pride. “You know what? This is my karma. All those years giving Reed hell about his oversized brain, and my kid’s out here calling my bullshit and casually dropping terms like inheritance.” He made a funny “serious” voice in that last word, making you double in laughter. “And you know what? I’m proud as hell. Because he’s cooler than Reed, obviously, cooler than all of us…and he’s gonna have a blast with Franklin–God, can you imagine them together? Two geniuses, tearing up crosswords, building–”

“Johnny–wait. Just…wait.” You put a hand in the air to stop his pacing. “We haven’t talked about any of that yet. About the tower, about…your family.” You said. “He just found out you’re his father. Just now. Can we please backtrack before you start planning his whole future?”

You didn’t mean to sound angry, but the defensiveness came out like a reflex. The grin faltered right off Johnny’s face, and looked at you with wide eyes like he was afraid he’d just ruined everything. 

“Right–yeah. You’re right,” he blurted. “I just got a little carried away. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay. We just...” You sighed deeply, and softened your tone. “We just…need to breathe, and have a conversation about it together. Step by step.”

Together. That’s all he wanted since he set foot in this town. Johnny nodded quickly, muttering, “Yeah, together.”

That was when he moved closer, not too much, just a cautious step that made the air around you grow warmer. He just let his hand lift until his knuckles skimmed yours in the faintest brush. Testing. It was so easy getting lost on Johnny’s blue eyes, and you almost forgot how to breathe when you felt his skin graze yours. But the bolter in you told you to keep protecting yourself, so you folded your arms back across your chest, forcing yourself to break that spark between your hands, then tucked your hair behind your ear. Anything to give yourself a sense of composure. You pretended not to see the defeat in Johnny’s eyes, clearing your throat. Maybe you couldn’t give him your touch yet, but your closeness was something you were willing to offer. 

“Listen uh–it’s getting late,” you said softly. “And today’s been…a lot. Let’s have some pizza, and if you want, you can crash on the couch. That way you’ll be here to put him to bed tonight and he can also see you in the morning.”

Johnny blinked, like he didn’t hear you right. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna intrude. I know your mornings are–”

“Crazy,” you finished for him with a tired smile. “Yeah. But he’ll be happy to have you here. And honestly…I don’t think you should drive back after a day like this.”

And I'll be happy to have you here too, you thought. The truth was, you didn't want him to leave after dinner. But a little white lie never hurt anyone.

“Okay,” he smiled softly, boyish. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

Time, mystical time, cutting me open, then healing me fine

The morning sun seeped through the curtains, and the first thing Johnny saw when he opened his eyes was his five year old staring him down in his cute rocketship pajamas. 

“Good morning,” Leo said, and a soft smile spread on Johnny’s face. It didn’t last long before the kid pointed out, “You snore louder than a dinosaur,” and then disappeared back into the hallway. 

Johnny blinked a few times and huffed. His back ached like hell, but if he ignored the accusation that he snores and just focused on the tender ‘good morning’ his son gave him, he couldn't care less about the pain. The next thing he saw was you walking out with your shirt untucked, hair barely tamed, and Leo trailing behind you, narrating every dinosaur fact he could remember. You stopped right before entering the kitchen, remembering you let Johnny sleep on your couch last night. 

“Morning, Johnny,” You smiled sheepishly.

“Morning.”  He propped himself up on his elbow to flash you a grin. 

Damn deep morning voice. Damn bed hair. Damn tight shirt. Honestly, just damn Johnny Sto–

“Mommy, are you even listening?” Leo tugged the fabric of your dress pants, and only resumed his description of the Brachiosaurus when you turned to him with an apologetic smile. 

Johnny chuckled when he realized your mornings were indeed chaotic with a walking encyclopedia following you around, so he sprung up from the couch to swiftly scoop Leo into his arms. “Alright, buddy, Operation ‘Let’s get dressed’ starts now.”

Leo giggled like it was a game, as Johnny hauled him toward his room making jet noises. Next thing you knew, Johnny was actually helping; getting Leo into his little uniform, somehow managing to fix the collar better than you expected, and even finding his missing shoe under the bed. You finally let yourself breathe. Johnny had Leo occupied so you could focus on breakfast. You told yourself you were just doing something nice because your son needed to eat something decent before school. That was it. Nothing to do with the fact that Johnny was there, suddenly making your morning a hundred times easier since he smiled at you. Nope. Totally not about him. So you pulled out the flour, eggs, and milk like it was the most casual thing in the world. But instead of Leo’s usual quick chopped fruits and cereal, you were whisking up pancake batter. Adding strawberries sliced on top, a drizzle of honey and even some whipped cream because why not.

“Pancakes? What’s the occasion?” Johnny appeared in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with crossed arms and a teasing smile.  

“No occasion. Just figured Leo deserved something nice.” You muttered, setting the plates on the table, just as Leo strolled in all dressed up. 

“She only makes pancakes on Sundays! Or birthdays…"

Your head whipped around. “Leo!” But he was already running to the bathroom to wash his hands, knowing exactly what he’d done. 

Johnny’s grin widened, he padded over, standing way too close as he looked at the plates you’d clearly put an effort on. “So what you’re saying is…”He teased behind you, “…I should feel really special, then.” He was so close you could feel his warmth all over your back. Your hand stilled over the table, as Johnny’s hovered over your waist, almost touching you, testing just like last night when–

The doorbell rang, making you both jolt. You took that as your chance to bolt the scene, muttering something about getting the door. You cleared your throat, and tucked a loose strand behind your ear before opening it. 

“Oh hi! How are you?” You beamed at your neighbor, and your sudden joy made Johnny snap his head to the handsome man greeting you with matching excitement. “I was going to call you, my car’s battery died the other day…” You said, voice fading away as you stepped outside to greet him and closed the door behind you, leaving Johnny without a sight of the interaction. 

Oh hell no. Johnny immediately rushed to the window, leaning his knee on the couch to peek through the curtain. He saw you standing next to your car, already giggling at whatever joke this guy said. His eyes went up and down the mysterious man, he had shoulder length wavy brown hair, and a stupid kind smile. He was wearing a deep blue coverall uniform, his name embroidered on it but too far away to read. As if on cue, Leo walked out the bathroom, wondering where his mom was. Perfect. 

“Hey, Leo, pst.” Johnny whispered, and the boy perked his head up in curiosity. “Come here buddy.” 

Leo obeyed, climbing over the couch to get a peek outside too, and saw you. “Why are we eavesdropping on mom?” He asked, a bit too loud, his little brow already judging Johnny. 

“Shhh. Buddy, we’re not eavesdropping, we’re…observing.” Johnny gaslighted, and Leo wasn’t fully convinced, but this seemed fun enough to entertain him. “Now Leo, who’s that man? He’s your neighbor?”

“Yes, that’s Mr. Barnes. His name is Bucky.” 

“Bucky? Who the hell is Bucky.” Johnny frowned, and Leo gasped. 

“Language!” The five year old scolded, and Johnny reluctantly muttered an apology. “He’s a mechanic, he was supposed to change our battery last week.” 

Yeah, but why is she giggling so much? He can’t be that funny. And why are those guy’s eyes so blue? Johnny leaned closer to hear the conversation. 

“Hey, next time something like that happens, call me alright?” Bucky said, and you nodded. 

“Thank you, Bucky. I will.” You smiled at him one last time, and finally turned to the porch to make your way back. 

“Shit–” Johnny scattered away from the window, ignoring Leo’s little scold for the curse, and snatched him off the couch just in time as you opened the door. 

You walked in with a sigh and a smile, only to find Johnny and Leo standing suspiciously close to the window, both trying–and failing–to act normal. “What?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

Johnny shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Nothing. Just…didn’t realize the pancakes included an early morning comedy hour with the neighbor.”

You snorted. “Oh my god, Johnny. He just wanted to ask about the tow he saw last week.” 

“Right! The tow, yeah that’s hilarious, isn't it…All that giggling and tossing your hair back, talking about a tow...”

You narrowed your eyes, and bit back a smile at his very evident jealousy. “Johnny, Bucky is like a hundred years old.” You said and his brows furrowed in more confusion. “Okay–not a hundred. But he’s way older, you don’t need to worry about him…”

“Me? Worried about that guy? Pft.” He shrugged. “No, I was just curious why Mister Mechanic thinks he can knock on your door before breakfast.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because some people actually wake up early to do their jobs, Johnny.” 

“Oh, so now you’re defending him? Wow. First pancakes, and now this. The morning just keeps getting better!” He said sarcastically, and Leo watched him amused. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you walked to the breakfast table. “You’re ridiculous.”

Leo trailed behind you. “Yeah, and foul-mouthed.” He giggled climbing into his chair.

Johnny groaned, dragging his feet to the table. Yeah, well…ridiculous or not, I just got my family back. Not really in the mood to share laughs with some guy named Bucky.”

Pancakes were a success, so much that Johnny was eager to offer himself to drive Leo to school and drop you at college after. The car ride was nice, at least to Leo, who chatted away with Johnny while you kept replaying in your head the way he looked when he just woke up, how warm his body felt behind you, right before the door ring, and his little jealousy fit after. It didn’t help that you still had a very important conversation pending haunting you as well. You couldn't do it in front of Leo, of course, but even after he jumped out of the truck, you still didn’t…talk. About what was important, at least. About what on earth was going to happen once you decided to step out of the little bubble you’d created, the one with pizza nights, pancake mornings, and light family banter in between. You told yourself you were just buying more time, but swearing by that six years ago might’ve been the start of this whole mess in the first place. The problem is, old habits die screaming, and you still had air in your lungs. 

And unfortunately, as beautiful as “playing house” sounded, all those afternoons Johnny spent at your place for a whole week, had led you to be incredibly behind with your faculty responsibilities. You hadn’t even noticed it was way past lunch time already. You sat on your office desk, red ink staining the side of your hand as you went through the mountain of papers you needed to grade. Your growling stomach told you to stop an hour ago, but you couldn’t, not when you were this behind. It wasn’t something you were used to, but the new flame in town was the one to blame. You let out a sigh, setting the pen down only for a second to rub your temple, when a knock on your door made you jump.

“Come in,” you shouted without even looking up, expecting a student, or the nice janitor wanting to say hi. 

“Are you planning on eating the papers for lunch?” 

You snapped your head up, only to find Johnny leaning against the doorframe, holding a brown bag in his hand. His blue eyes flicked over the chaos on your desk, and behind that cocky smile was that quiet concern you’d learned to recognize in him. You sat up straighter, pretending you weren’t just about to scream in frustration before he knocked on your door. 

“Johnny…” You warned, as he strutted toward you waving the bag excitedly. “I’m busy, I told you I needed to get these done by today.”

“Relax, I know. I’m not here to distract you, Professor Spencer,” He said, setting the bag down next to your stack of ungraded exams. “I just grabbed some sandwiches from that corner deli I saw the other day, and I figured you might’ve forgotten.”

You looked at him, ready to put up a fight, but your stomach said just take the damn sandwich, girl. So you exhaled, relaxing your posture in defeat. “I…yeah. I did forget.”

Johnny pulled the chair from that side of the desk and placed it backward, then sat down with his chin resting on his folded arm on the top rail as he watched you with amusement. “Knew it,” he said, pushing the bag closer to you with his finger. “Come on, eat first, fail your students later.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for it, biting back a smile at the gesture. It caught you off guard how easily he kept working his way into different pieces of your day. Parts that had always been just yours. 

“My students don’t fail,” you argued playfully, pulling the sandwich out, realizing he’d gotten your order right once again. “There’s only one here, want to go halfsies?” You offered, the same way you did to Leo sometimes.

“Oh, yeah–I mean, no…I already ate mine on the way I was starving.” He snorted, blushing. “And I’m sure they don’t,” he chuckled, but there was no malice in it. 

You hummed pridefully. Johnny watched you nibble the edge of the sandwich, your free hand already picking up the pen and eyes darting back to the papers. He groaned dramatically and reached over, snatching a pile from the stack to slide it toward him.

“Alright, hand me the red pen, I’ll help you while you eat.”

You shook your head, trying to grab the pile back but he put his arm over it to keep it in place. “Johnny, you don’t even know the subject.”

“Nonsense,” he kept his arm there, flicking his fingers for the pen. “I’m an astronaut. I’ve been to space and learned alien languages, I can grade a few papers,” he said confidently, too smug for his own good, but it was enough for you to shrug and hand him the pen. Maybe this could be fun. 

“Let me give you a graded one so you can see–”

“I don’t need it,” he shook his head, already squinting at the page in deep concentration.

You held back a chuckle, and leaned back in your chair to enjoy your sandwich, curious on how long it’d be until he gave up. His brow furrowed at the first page covered in equations, mouthing the items under his breath. It took about four more seconds.

“Okay, so…you give credit if they write their name at the top, right?”

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. “Come on, Mr. I talk to naked sexy aliens, you got this.” You took another bite of your sandwich, smiling against it. It tasted better while humbling Johnny Storm. 

He just smiled at you sarcastically, eyes squinting in fake enthusiasm. He turned to the second page, expecting to at least know one answer, but as he went through the items his jaw dropped dramatically. “Jeez, these are hard questions. What are you preparing them for, NASA?”

“Basically,” you deadpanned, “I’m trying to get them into programs, like your family’s.”

You said it so genuinely that it was enough to shut him up. For a moment he got caught between a sense of pride and guilt, tapping the pen on the page trying to mask it. “Guess I should, uh…leave this to you, then. I’m a little rusty anyways,” he tried to play it cool, setting the pile back onto the stack and resting his arms on the back of the chair again. You nodded, setting the half of the sandwich down to reach for the pen again. “You know,” he said softly, “all this work you’re doing–what you did with Kate and try to do with others…you’re changing the course of their lives. That’s one hell of a mark you’re leaving here.”

You shook your head, eyes locked on the numbers. “I just thought everyone deserved a chance at a better life, that’s all. Someone gave me that chance once. It didn’t work out for me but maybe it will for them.”

Johnny tilted his head and felt that familiar pang in his chest, the one that told him he didn’t protect that chance when it mattered, didn't protect you. He didn’t speak for a while after that. You tried to ignore it, the weight of what was unsaid still hanging in the air, of what you were still running away from, but the insistent bounce in his leg made you glance over at him. He was absentmindedly tapping his fingers on his forearm, and he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. His eyes were stuck on the bulletin board behind you, but he wasn't really reading anything on it. You knew that tapping. You knew that look. Leo had the same little quirks when something bothered him. You could’ve just ignored him. It was easier to keep escaping and you still had it in you to keep running, but your legs were starting to hurt. So you sighed, setting the pen down again and moving the papers away. 

“Johnny,” you started softly, and he just hummed. “You didn’t just come here to have lunch with me and get humbled with my tests, did you?”

He stopped tapping his fingers, gaze finally meeting yours with a forced laugh. “Hey, I said I was a little rusty,” he joked, but it faltered quickly. “But, you’re right…I didn’t.”

You nodded with a sad smile. “We’ve been avoiding this since last night, haven’t we?”

“We have,” he exhaled, finally dropping some of the weight off. “I think I was hoping it would just…work itself out. That I’d keep waking up in your house and we’d all just be there together, sharing breakfast, answering Leo’s morning trivia,” he chuckled at that, and it made you smile too. “That one day he’d call me dad without hesitating, and you’d…you’d stop looking at me like you’re still halfway out the door.”

He didn't say it like an accusation, and maybe that made it worse. You looked away. It was hard to face the fact that those were just mere fantasies, ones you couldn't deny you had yourself. 

“But I know I can’t stay here forever. I have responsibilities back home, and they don’t just go away because I want them to. I’ve been pulling excuses for weeks, because I know I need to have a plan with you before I bring this to my family, but Sue is not happy at all…I’ll have to face them before they come snooping around.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But I don’t want to turn into a visitor in my son’s life, I want to be in it, so there’s gotta be a middle ground for us.”

“Johnny, you talk about it like it’s easy to decide what that middle ground is.” 

“Because it should be,” he shot back instantly, refusing to let you keep brushing it off. “I’m not asking for everything at once, I just want us to start, to get somewhere.” 

“You say somewhere but we both know what you mean by that. That’s not a middle ground.” You snapped, burying your face in your hands. 

Johnny kept himself from groaning, sighing instead. “That’s not what I meant.” He was coming off wrong, yet the fire inside him told him to keep pushing. “I’m just saying, you told me you believe everyone deserves a shot. So why not you? Why not Leo?” The way your shoulders tensed didn’t go unnoticed by him. “You’re busting yourself in this office, running on no sleep, all to give strangers a shot at a better life. But your son–our son, and you? You deserve it too, maybe more than anyone.”

You finally looked at him. “I know he deserves the best in the world, and once I believed that for myself too,” you said, fighting the burn in the back of your throat. “But I don’t know if I can ever go back there, Johnny. I know you were scared but I lost everything that day. I’ve been living in the shadow of what you did to me for so long, that it’s easier to believe it's safer to stay small.”

The guilt was so heavy in Johnny’s chest that it stung. Saying sorry was never going to be enough to repair the damage he’d done. You sat in silence for a moment, and even if the words that came out hurt, they needed to be said. It was the only way to get somewhere. 

“I know you have your life in New York, your family, the team. But Leo and I…we’ve built something here, something safe. He knows you’re his father now, but that still doesn’t change that our life is here,” you said firmly.

“I understand that.” Johnny nodded softly. “I’m not asking you to give that up–”

“But you’re not going to give up yours either.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. And you hated how accusatory it sounded, because he had every right as much as you did. 

“I’m not,” he admitted, smiling sadly. “The city, my team…it’s not just duty, it’s a part of me. But I’m not saying you need the Baxter Tower either, you don’t ever have to forgive them…or me, if you don’t wish to.”

“I didn’t say I’ll never forgive them,” you shook your head, finally easing down. “But I don’t trust them, not yet. And I can’t just pretend like those years didn’t happen.” 

“I’m not asking you to pretend,” he said softly, “I know I should’ve stood by you. I should’ve trusted you. And me being scared doesn't change the fact that I was a coward that day.”

You’re not wrong. 

“I’m not asking you to trust them right now, I can only ask you to trust me. To trust that I’ll never let you be alone, and that I’ll stand between you and anyone who tries to treat you like that ever again…even if it’s them.”

You let the words sink in. Promises you’d prayed for so many times in the dark. “You know when you talk like that, I want to believe again. I hate it, but I do,” you admitted.

“Then don’t fight it.”

Your breath hitched when Johnny suddenly got up from his chair, rounding the desk to walk to your side. He crouched down, swiveling your chair slowly to face him. He put one hand on the armrest as the other reached hesitantly, hovering over yours for a few seconds. He waited for that rejection, for that almost touch, but you didn’t pull back this time. You just sat there, eyes wide, staring at his hand finally wrapped around yours. All you could focus on was the little mole on the back of his hand you always wanted to press a kiss on. 

“Let’s try this again,” he smiled softly, his thumb brushing your skin. “I don’t want you to think I’m saying pack it up and leave your life overnight. I just want to find a way to make this work, I want us to find a way.”

“But…what if we don’t figure it out?” you whispered. 

“Then we keep trying until we do,” he shrugged. “I’ll fly here every week if I have to. We’ll do weekends, we’ll FaceTime. We’ll write letters if that’s what it takes. But I’m not giving up on you.”

You nodded, but didn't say anything else. Johnny didn’t mind it, the fact that you let him take your hand was enough for him. He watched you for a moment longer, then slowly, gently, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, right over your knuckles. He lingered there, eyes never leaving yours, and it was the gentleness that undid you, more than the promises. That, and the impossible longing behind his gaze. 

“You look even more beautiful than I remembered,” he whispered against your skin, making your heart race and heat creep up your neck.

“Johnny…”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been dying to say it since I arrived here,” he flashed you one of his dashing smiles, finally lowering your hand to your lap but never letting go.

The way he managed to turn everything around so easily with just a couple words and that maddening grin drove you insane. Still, your fingers tightened around his, and you couldn't help the smile on your face. There goes another one of your walls.

“You know, I don’t think our middle ground is Manhattan, but maybe we could consider something…closer.” You drawled, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I just don’t know where–“

“We’ll figure it out,” he cut in, desperate. “Any city, as close as you wish. We’ll find the best school for Leo and I’ll buy you a house there, as big as you want it, I’ll paint it your favorite color…we can even have a cute garden and a mailbox and a driveway with a basketball hoop–”

“Johnny…” You chuckled at his little suburban fantasy, shoving his shoulder playfully with your free hand. 

“I mean it! We can do anything, I swear.” He laughed too, clutching your hand tighter. “All I know right now is that I want you, and I want him closer. I want him to know who I am. Just–just don’t worry about anything, and leave it to me. I’ll protect the family. Our family.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your heart ringing in your ears and his hopeful eyes locked on yours. He looked like he was in the middle of a battlefield instead of an office, because yes, this was the goddamn fight of his life and he’d started it all those years back. But now he was ready to burn himself down if it meant proving to you that this time, he would fight. And you chose to believe it. 

“Okay…” you whispered, “I trust you, Johnny…don’t make me regret it.” 

“You won’t.” He shook his head, pressing another kiss to your hand, smiling against your skin. 

He lowered your hand, eyes inevitably going to your lips, looking too inviting for his own good. He leaned without even thinking, breath almost mingling with yours, his thumb tracing circles that sent shivers up your arms. His lips were so close you could feel his heat wrapping all over your body, so you closed your eyes instinctively when–

Two knocks on the door startled you both. He almost bumped your chin when he leaned back, but before any of you had time to think about it, the door swung open. 

“Professor, I–uh…”

You looked over to find none other than Captain Walker standing there. Six-foot-two of pure southern muscle wrapped in his neat navy blue uniform. He held a red paper plate in one hand, with a very generous piece of cake on it. His smile faltered just a second when he clocked Johnny crouching, hand still on yours, both of you snapping back like guilty teenagers caught making out behind the bleachers.

“…I see I’m interrupting something,” he drawled, his amused voice sweet as honey. 

You cleared your throat, heat creeping up your face as you tugged your hand back, pretending to shuffle the papers on your desk. “Not at all, John, come in.”

Johnny immediately stood up, without leaving your side, hands on his hips, and if looks could kill…Great. First, Mr. Mechanic in the morning, and now Mr. Cowboy boots. Stealing his moments with you. 

“You always just burst into places like that?” Johnny snapped, but it only made John grin wider. 

I’ll be damned, looks like Ken is mad at me. “My bad, she usually has no problem with me walking in like this.” John shrugged, unbothered, strolling toward your desk. Johnny’s eye twitched. 

You scrambled to diffuse the awkwardness, gesturing between them. “Uh–Johnny, this is Captain John Walker, we’re campus neighbors. John, this is Johnny…Lowell, a friend.”

Lowell? A Friend? Seriously? 

He remembered this guy all too well. The same one you brushed off that time with that laugh you do when you’re trying to be polite. And now he’s back again. With “cake”.

Still, he extended his arm over the desk when you tilted your head at him. John’s handshake was firm, maybe a little too firm, and Johnny didn’t even bother hiding how reluctant he was to take it. While their eyes locked in a silent testosterone showdown, you were sitting there wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“It’s always nice to see you around, John. What do you have for me?” You smiled, more out of habit than anything, but it was enough to make Johnny’s head whip to you like Excuse me!? 

John ignored him, and placed the cake on your desk, right next to the crumpled brown bag, dusting some crumbs off the edge. “The chief wanted me to bring you this, thought we’d share the wealth.” He smiled, wide and bright, knowing exactly what he was doing. 

Johnny scoffed. “Right, the chief sent you all the way here from the station.” Johnny said, crossing his arms. “Oh and I bet he’s also like what, 6’4? Probably built like Superman too, huh?”

You glanced over at him, amused. Oh, he was digging his own grave. But he was too busy with the gears already smoking in his head. What the hell is in the water in this town? Why is every man hot and trying to flirt with you?

“No, actually, she’s about this tall.” John corrected, lifting his hand flat in the air, showing where someone about a foot shorter than him would reach. “Maybe 5’4 at best. She could kill you with her eyes closed, though.” 

You covered your mouth to hide your laugh with a cough, because oh my god, Johnny’s face.

He turned to you, offended, red as a tomato. “Did you just laugh? You’re definitely laughing.”

“I’m not.” You cleared your throat, then turned back to John with a casual ease that only made it worse. “That’s so sweet, John. Tell Yelena I said thank you and happy birthday.”

“Will do,” he nodded. Then he crossed his arms, hands touching his elbows, as he eyed Johnny up and down. He stared at the XS outfit, the silver bracelet peeking under the sleeve of his designer jacket, and the flawless little haircut. “Nice pants, by the way. You a lawyer or something?”

Johnny was flabbergasted, to say the least. “Do I look like a lawyer?”

John shrugged, “Do I look like a cop?” 

Do I look like a cop?. Johnny mimicked in his head. I’m going to burn this man down and have Reed cover it up. See how much of a cop you look like after that. 

“Actually, I’ll have you know I’m the human–ah.” He grimaced when you pressed your hand harshly to his stomach, holding a couple of papers tightly against it. 

“What Johnny means is he’s from Human Resources.” You gritted, glaring at him. “He was just helping me with some paperwork.” 

Johnny exhaled in defeat, taking the papers from your hands, rolling his eyes dramatically but still nodding. 

“Yeah, he seems pretty…resourceful.” John said. But instead of feeling intimidated against this man evidently staking his claim, especially after whatever the hell he walked on, he just chuckled and shrugged. “Now I see why you never said yes to me.”

Damn right, Johnny thought. 

You just buried your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”

John was about to tip his head and make himself scarce before he had to arrest a pretty boy assaulting an officer, when he felt that uncharacteristic warmth he’d only felt in your office before. “I know I’ve mentioned it before, but are you sure you’re not messing with the heating? It’s so warm here.” 

“The heating? Not really, I–“ Your eyes went to Johnny, who looked way too red and too suspicious at the comment. You narrowed your eyes. “Huh. Yeah, it’s actually getting very hot in here…” 

Johnny avoided your gaze as he circled the desk. “Well, this was lovely, captain! Aye aye, time to go!” He placed his abnormally warm hands on John’s biceps, and turned him around, pretending not to struggle as he nudged him toward the door. 

“Enjoy your cake professor, I know it’s your favorite.” John half turned, planting his boots on the floor and towering over Johnny for him to stop –attempting– to drag him away. It worked. “Pleasure meeting you, Lowell.” Not.

And after one more smile at you and a glare at Johnny, he finally walked out the door. Johnny stood there for a few seconds, just glaring daggers at the closed door. “Okay–what the hell was that? Cake? Really? He brings you cake and suddenly you’re giggling like he’s the funniest man alive?”

You rolled your eyes, scooping the plate closer, and tasted some of the frosting with your finger. “Oh, please Johnny, he was just being nice.”

He snapped his gaze back to you, utterly scandalized. “That wasn’t nice, that was–look, he walked aaall the way here from the station. You don’t just show up with cake in the middle of the day unless you’re trying to make a move on someone.” He wouldn't even be surprised if this “Yelena” was trying to get her foot in your door too. 

“I park by the station when the campus is full, Johnny, I see them very often. They're just my friends.”

“Friends,” he muttered under his breath, pacing in his spot. Last time he was your “friend” he procreated a secret baby with you. “He knows your favorite cake too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Johnny, you’ve been in my life again for like four minutes. Of course people know stuff about me.” 

“Wow wow wow–four minutes? Now that's cold.” He stopped pacing, pointing accusingly at you. 

Jesus Christ. Was this really the same man that promised you a big house with a stupid basketball hoop while kissing your hand just moments ago? 

“Says the guy who warmed up the room with pure jealousy,” you shrugged, unbothered, playing with the little spoon without looking at him.

“I’m not jealous. I just…run hot,” he shrugged, then smiled devilishly when that idea popped back in his head. “However, in case I need it–I’m not saying I will, but if I ever do, Reed can cover up a murder you know…” 

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you gasped, then both bursted in laughter. “Well, until you get caught, do you want some cake or not?” You said, pointing at the cake with the spoon. 

He sighed in annoyance, but still dragged his feet back to the chair. “I do…but I’m still angry.”

“I know,” you smiled, holding out the spoon with a piece toward him. “And I still have to grade these papers.”

He took the bite, smiling against the spoon. “I know that too,” he said, voice muffled. “Give me another pen.”

So there you were, hearts on your sleeves, cake frosting on your lips, and a very jealous Johnny Storm finally accepting a graded test reference so he could actually be helpful. 

“But another Jonathan, really?”

“Ugh, Johnny!”

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Johnny hadn’t exactly planned on sleeping on your couch twice in a row. Somehow it happened, after Leo wouldn’t let him go until he read all four of his favorite books to him. 

Leo didn’t like short books. 

Not that Johnny minded though, he’d stay up all night reading and entertaining his son if it meant making up for lost time even in the slightest bit. He couldn’t stop thinking about Leo’s bubbly laughter when he made a witty joke, or his seriousness when he corrected something Johnny misread trying to make a funny voice. Leo’s fire was brighter than his in all aspects, and he’d never been prouder to be outshined by someone barely over forty four inches. You invaded his memories too. You sat next to him on the little bed while he put on a show, laughing at his jokes, smiling until your cheeks hurt, and ignoring the fact that it was way past Leo’s bedtime by book three. It was a Friday anyways, so who cares.

So here he was, 2 am, padding toward your kitchen, for an “I can’t sleep snack”. It was ridiculous, really, sneaking in the dark to raid his five year old’s cereal stash. He found the last box on the counter, frowning at how light it was. Almost gone. Gotta remember to buy him more. Then he went to the fridge, juggling a milk carton, the cereal, and a ceramic bowl at the same time, cursing under his breath when he almost dropped the bowl. That’s when he heard the soft steps behind him.

“Johnny?”

He froze, caught red handed with a spoon dangling awkwardly out of his mouth. He turned slowly, to find you next to the breakfast counter, arms folded, squinting in the dark. 

“I–uh,” he whispered, lowering to the opposite counter to drop the spoon from his mouth, half laughing. “I couldn’t sleep.” He gestured lazily at the box in his hand. “Chose to battle my insomnia with…cereal.”

“Right,” you smiled. “I couldn't sleep either.”

Johnny put the milk into the fridge, set the bowl back in the cabinet with exaggerated care, and grabbed the cereal box with a flourish, pouring a handful straight into his palm. He munched quietly, looking at you like he was waiting for judgment. Instead, you just leaned against the counter in your oversized shirt, watching him with amusement.

“I’ll bring more tomorrow,” he justified.

You shook your head softly. “I don’t mind, Johnny. You brought it here. You can eat anything you want from this house.”

He grinned, and held out a few pieces to you in truce. You smiled and took them, brushing his fingers faintly. And now it was just the two of you, parents to a brilliant five year old, sharing stolen cereal under the moonlight at two in the morning.

“There’s something we haven’t talked about yet, and I’ve been dying to ask you about it.” Johnny broke the silence.

You frowned, but still nodded. “Sure, what is it?” 

He gathered courage, and asked. “Why Spencer?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I get why not Storm, but…why the other?”

“Well…I wasn’t really thinking clearly when I first chose it.” You said, chucking nervously. “But I think in the end, it was because I didn’t want you completely out of his life,” you confessed, sighing. “It wasn’t safe to name him Storm, of course, but I couldn’t erase you, either. So…Spencer. At least some part of you would always be with him.”

And with me, you thought. But you weren’t ready to say that out loud yet. 

He stood in silence for a moment, taking it all in. Then, he smiled, genuinely. “You don’t know what that means to me,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

You just nodded, biting your lip. “Now I have a question for you.”

He popped a few flakes into his mouth, grinning smugly. “Shoot, professor.”

“Why aren't you using your flames?” You asked. “Why are you brooding in my kitchen in the dark?”

That almost made him choke on the cereal, he barked out a laugh, louder than he meant to, and clapped a hand over his mouth before he woke Leo up. “Okay, yeah. I know it’s ridiculous. I don’t even remember the last time I brooded in complete darkness like this. Definitely before the accident, like, eleven, twelve years ago?” He shook his head at himself.

You looked at him amused, but still waited for his answer. He sighed and leaned on the counter behind him, one hand still holding the cereal box as the other rested on the countertop. 

“Truth? I haven’t used my powers since I got here. It just…didn’t feel appropriate. Your house isn’t exactly fireproof and I wasn’t gonna risk burning down my kid’s home.”

That made you laugh, muffling the little snort into your hand. He beamed at the sound.

“I understand that, but…” You looked at him curiously, uncrossing your arms. “...I was wondering, if maybe I could see it?”

“See…it?”

You nodded, and stepped closer to him. “Your flames…it’s been a while. But I remember they were beautiful.”

Johnny set the cereal box in the counter behind him, his eyes searching yours for hesitation. “You’re not scared?”

You shook your head. “Just…step away from the curtains.”

A breathless laugh slipped from him in a mix of disbelief and nerves, but he’d do anything for you. He took one step forward, into the middle of the kitchen, and lifted his hand. A warm light washed your features when his entire hand lit up, fire curling up his fingers. The heat filled the room instantly, the warmth close enough to kiss your skin but never to hurt. And in that glow, all you saw was him. Johnny in the firelight. His blue eyes caught the dancing flames, orange and gold, but he was staring at you as if you held the fire he’d spent his whole life chasing. He stepped forward, flexing his fingers, so the flame flickered a little lower in delicate patterns. 

“Yeah…” you whispered. “…still beautiful.”

You smiled at him, so softly, so honest, that Johnny almost fell to his knees for you on his spot. This was it. This was his moment. No more interruptions. No more mechanics or policemen. No more ‘almost’. 

“So are you.” He stepped closer one more time. “I meant it before and I will mean it my entire life,” he mumbled, like it slipped out before he could stop it. 

“Johnny…” your breath hitched, but you didn’t step back. 

The flame softened even more, until it was just a quiet glow, just enough to light your faces in gold. He closed the last of the distance between you, his other hand rose slowly, and fit like a puzzle piece on your waist. His touch was warm, just as you remembered it, as his hand brought you toward him with the gentlest pull.

“Is this okay?” he said breathlessly, his voice betraying him on how badly he needed the answer.

You barely nodded, because you were too mesmerized by the fire dancing in his eyes, and the way his hand on your waist made your heart race. So he dared to close the space until your chests finally collided, until your breath mingled with his, until the world came to nothing but the warmth of his hand sliding to your back and the firelight dancing between your mouths.

“I can’t keep pretending I don’t think about the taste of your lips all the time.” His lips hovered over yours, just a breath apart. “I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered the words that have been caged in his chest for six years and could finally break free. 

Your heart screamed me too. The ache, the longing, the waiting for him to come save you from the melancholy you’d drowned yourself in…it all flooded back to you as if no time had passed. So you decided it was time to finally let him in. You slipped your arms over his shoulders, hands placed firmly on the back of his neck, and pleaded.

“Just kiss me, Johnny.”

He didn’t waste another second. 

Your lips touched first like a question, but the instant his mouth found yours, the flame in his hand died down, just as the one between your lips ignited. Suddenly both his hands were on you, palms running across your back, tugging you closer as if that would erase the years spent apart. His kiss was wild, desperate like he’d been starving and was finally allowed to taste what he'd been craving.

Your fingers were on his hair before you could think, pulling, anchoring you to reality as the kiss deepened. Johnny breathed against you between kisses, broken little groans that showed the hunger burning inside him. It wasn't gentle, it wasn't careful. He wanted to feel every part of you pressed against him, to make sure you were real, that this was happening, that no one was interrupting this time. It was everything unsaid, every letter you never sent, every apology he made that never reached your ears.

The kiss broke not because either of you wanted it to, but because salt hit your mouths, tears you didn't even realize had been spilling. His and yours, both mixing together until you pulled back to see the glimmer on his cheeks, and he saw the same on yours.

His thumbs wiped your tears, as he smiled through his. “I never had the courage to make you mine for more than just one night and I hate myself for it. It was my fault that we were never anything, when we should’ve had it all.” He paused, only to wipe his face. “We were just…two idiots who pretended love didn’t exist…but it did. It existed to me. It always did.”

You took a shaky breath, partly because you were still recovering from the kiss, and because his words cut too close. “It did to me too, Johnny. I’m sorry that we were never anything. I’m sorry I let myself believe we couldn’t be.”

“I don’t want us to be like that anymore. I don’t care how messy, how complicated it’ll be to find a middle ground–it just…doesn’t matter. I lost six years with you that I’ll never get back. And I swear to you, I’m not wasting another second.” He promised, still holding you. “I want it all. God, I want everything. You, Leo and me. Forever.”

You were tired of words, so you leaned in instead, your lips meeting in the middle. Soft at first, then hungrier, almost laughing against his mouth when he exhaled in relief into it. 

“Yes. You…” you said between kisses, “Leo…”

Another kiss.

“And me.”

One more. 

“Forever.”

Johnny groaned into your mouth, relief and joy tangling into one sound, as he guided your bodies with a few steps forward. Your lower back pressed against the counter as he leaned you against it, still kissing you. Your giggles bubbled up, breaking through the kiss, and he chased it with his lips wanting to taste your laughter. He joined you, and soon you were both giggling, kissing, pulling apart only to fall right back in. Your hands twisted in his hair, his thumb brushed the side of your jaw.

For the first time in years, the ache lifted, leaving two idiots in love, finally letting themselves be just that. 

The next thing you knew, your hand slipped into his and you were guiding him to your room. He just followed, cereal and everything else forgotten, heart beating so fast in his chest he swore you could hear it. He couldn’t take his eyes off your back, the way that shirt barely covered past your ass, the way your hips shifted with every step, the way your hand dragged him to a place he thought was forbidden. When you pushed open your bedroom door, even in the dark, he could see how warm the space felt. Soft floral bedding, a few books stacked at the nightstand, pictures of your life, races of you everywhere. He wanted to soak it all in, but you didn’t give him time. You pulled him in, and he stumbled a little before he kissed you back, but then he pulled away just enough to whisper against your mouth. 

“Are you sure? About this? About…me?”

Your fingers clutched his shirt, walking backwards toward your bed . “Yes. But we have to be quiet, our son is asleep.”

That made him huff out the quietest laugh just as just stopped by the bed’s edge. “You, quiet? With me? Oh, sweetheart…” He grinned mischievously. “You don’t really have the best record with that.”  

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you. He stole another kiss, muffling his own chuckle against your lips, and then you were both tumbling onto the bed. Johnny shushed himself dramatically when the mattress squeaked, his neck stifling your laugh. 

Johnny’s hands roamed everywhere, greedy, making up for every touch he couldn't give you before. Six years ago it had been laughter muffled in champagne glasses, hurried kisses that dissolved into tangled limbs, both of you too drunk to notice much beyond the spark between you. But this…this was different. His lips moved down your jaw, to your throat, to the skin peaking under the shirt. You could feel the way he was holding back still, making the effort of not rushing, because he wanted this to last. Wanted you to last.

“God,” he mumbled against your collarbone, his breath hot on your skin. “I don’t even remember if I kissed you here last time.” So now he did, warm lips making you gasp.

You were already melting under him, every kiss undoing the last pieces of the wall you’d built around yourself. It was like your body remembered him even if your mind tried to forget. 

“I lied about that night.” He confessed against your lips. “It wasn’t just one night. It was everything. It's so unfair I only got to taste you once…but I’m gonna make up for that lost time.”

Clothes came off in a hurry, first your shirt, then your panties, tossed somewhere on the floor. Johnny took longer to get undressed, his shirt, his belt, his tight pants, he put a little show on for you while you did nothing but lie there naked, pretty, and wet for him. Once he was naked too, he pressed his warm body back on you, thumbs stroking your waist, while his mouth made his way from your neck, trailing kisses down to your breasts, your nipples, your stomach, until you could barely think straight. This time, Johnny wasn't laughing nervously or fumbling in a haze of alcohol. This time, he was memorizing every gasp you made, every arch of your back, every shiver as his mouth trailed lower and lower. Until a moan came out too loud, and his head snapped up right over your lower belly.  

“Shh–we have to be quiet.” He grinned like a devil, then leaned back again to place a teasing kiss just above the most sensitive part of your body. “You’re perfect.”

“Johnny, come on,” you whined, your hands reaching for his shoulders, trying to pull him back on top of you. “Please don’t tease me.” 

He wanted to be a little shit about it, but when he heard the need in your voice he let you pull him back, until he was hovering your body again. You ran your hands through his toned abs, his chest, until one landed on his bicep and the other cradled his face. 

“I want to feel you, Johnny.” You said breathlessly, running your thumb across his cheek as you lifted your knee to softly rub his hardened cock, making his eyes widen in disbelief. “Please.”

“Oh you’re vicious.” He shook his head, laughing under his breath. He grabbed himself in his hand, pushing your knee with his elbow to open your legs to him. You just bit your lip and pulled him closer. “Alright, alright. I got you sweetheart.” He chuckled. “I want to feel you too.”

He wasn’t even trying to hide how much he was enjoying having you under him, pleading and ready, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the feel of his leaking tip as he lined himself with your soaking folds. 

“Fuck–you’re soaking for me, baby.” He groaned, eyes fixed where your bodies met. He looked up to check your face, to make sure you were still saying yes, and he was met with dilated pupils and your mouth parted open as you nodded. That was all he needed. 

The moment he finally sank into you, his length stretching your walls the way only he could, both of you gasped at once. Your hands flew to his neck, clutching him close, and he buried his face against your neck to muffle the sounds he couldn't hold back.

“God–” he groaned, pushing himself as deep as he could. “–so much better than I remember.”

You held back your moans, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered breathless. “So good, Johnny.”

Soon you were gasping under his strong grip, clutching every inch of his body. His hair, his neck, his pecs, his back, ultimately slipping your arms around his biceps to ground yourself as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. And when a moan slipped a bit louder, he groaned into your skin, his forehead pressing to yours.

“Baby you gotta be quiet–or I’m gonna lose it too.” He chuckled under his breath, making you giggle too. He leaned to kiss your cheek, your temple, the corner of your lips, then a roll of his hips pulled another loud moan from you. “Fuck. I know, I know you like that…but he’s sleeping.” 

Still, he angled himself so he could push harder, the squeak of the bed now filling the room along with the headboard hitting the drywall. That was when Johnny stopped, eyes wide, looking at you like he’d done something he shouldn’t have. You both laughed quietly like teenagers trying to get it on with parents next door. Except, now you were the parents hiding from the children. 

“Jesus, wait–“ Johnny shook his head, still laughing. He pulled himself out just to grab a small pillow from your bed, and set it between the wall and the headboard. “Let me test it first.” He looked at you mischievously, placing himself between your legs again and pushing inside with no warning. You choked a gasp at the stretch, at the way you only felt full if he was inside you. The bed moved with Johnny’s thrust, still creaking, but the pillow had successfully soundproofed the headboard. “Bingo.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you ready?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh again, pulling him closer to you to whisper in his ear. “Just fuck me, Johnny.” 

He whistled low, then whined playfully when you swatted his bicep so he would shut up. That was when he just decided to do what you asked of him, and fucked you. He dragged his cock out and pushed back in a quick pace, making your body bounce with every thrust. The sound of your muffled whimpers, his broken gasps, the slap of skin and the faint creak of the bed, all blended into a desperate rhythm. 

“It feels so good, Johnny. I can’t–right there.” 

“Right there?,” he groaned, thrusting deeper until you choked on the sound. His hand cupped the back of your head to lift it, leaning just enough to place a kiss on your forehead, before pulling back. “Look at me…look at me when you tell me how I make you feel.” 

And you did. Breathless, clutching his arms tighter, drowning in those blue eyes as you told him exactly what he was doing to you, how he was wrecking you, how he stretched you just right, how every movement burned in the best way. That undid him. 

“I swear I’ll give you everything. Anything you need–fuck–I promise.” His lips crushed yours, and soon you felt the saltiness of your shared tears.

The heat of his skin was making you sweat, and you felt that familiar pressure building, so close to snapping. Your back arched and you cried out louder, too loud, and he placed his big warm hand over your mouth, groaning into your ear. “Shhh–baby, as much as I’d give anything to hear you scream…I can’t, we can’t–” 

You started moaning under his hand, eyes wet, but it only made him push harder, until your muffled moans broke into little sobs of pleasure. You bit down gently against his palm, and that was when he felt himself breaking too. 

“Come with me–please sweetheart. Come with me, I can’t–I won’t last for longer–“

You finally felt the pressure snap across your body, your walls clenching around him, pushing his hand away from your mouth so you could pray his name over and over in low pants. “JohnnyJohnnyJohnny.” Johnny’s name died on his lips when he muffled his own groan against your mouth. He kept driving into you, chasing his own edge, until he filled you with every last drop of his release. You both ended up panting, your nails still dug into his biceps, trying to steady yourself as your chest rose and fell against his toned one. Johnny’s head fell into your collarbone, damp hair sticking to your skin. 

“Shit,” he laughed, trying to catch his breath. “I–I didn’t even think. I finished inside…is that okay? I don’t wanna accidentally make another Leo. We can barely handle one.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, weak and breathless, and swatted his shoulder. “Johnny, I’m gonna hold your bicep when I say this. Stop talking about him when you’re still inside me. It’s alright…I got it covered.”

“Okay sorry, sorry. I just–my brain is fried. Couldn’t think straight even if I tried…pretty sure I saw God.”

“Johnny…” you giggled, warmth blooming in your chest as you played with his hair. 

“I’m just saying,” he laughed against your skin, looking up to meet your gaze. “You made a strong case for heaven just now.”

As you laughed, shaking your head and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world, aside from Leo of course, Johnny had never felt more complete. 

He finally pulled out, and let himself collapse beside you, both of you boneless and dazed, just breathing heavily in the dark. You turned to lay your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you tight against him. 

When he first drove into this quiet little town, he never thought he’d end up here. Not in your bed. Not with your head pillowed over his heart. And sure as hell not with a pillow between your wall and your headboard to sneak from your son next door. You couldn’t have imagined that in a million years either. But as you sighed softly against his chest, and he tightened his hold on your body, you had a warm feeling blooming in your chest. Something you hadn't felt in years.

You could love again. Because the truth was, you never really stopped. 

Now you hang from my lips, like the gardens of Babylon

With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con

Waking up to Johnny was still magical, just like last time. It was all in the way his head rested on your pillow, his golden hair falling into place like dominoes, the sunlight dancing over his perfect nose, his parted lips, his bare chest rising slowly. He looked so at peace, and you were so at peace. That little piece of quiet, tucked between Saturday and forever, felt like something that might last this time…until it didn’t. The magical moment broke when a tiny, determined fist banged on your locked door, complaining about the lack of cereal for breakfast. It didn’t take long before you sighed, barely brushing Johnny’s lips before getting up to meet your son’s demands, distracting him as Johnny groaned and sneaked out of your bedroom to pretend he’d been in the bathroom all along. 

Turns out, you really had no more backup boxes, so Leo had to settle just for fruit. Then, he basically forced you both to get dressed, and go grab cereal immediately. He even was the first to beeline toward Johnny’s truck, to supervise the grocery run, but when the little twin neighbors from just a few houses down appeared on your driveway, inviting him to play at their house like they’d done many times before, he suddenly forgot about the cereal. 

So now here you were, in the middle of the town’s grocery store, with Johnny pushing the cart beside you like this was an usual Saturday activity. 

“If we want Leo to get into a good program, we need to do it at least a year ahead.” You said, placing a few cartons of milk on the shopping cart. “He’s almost out of school for this year, but he’ll have to do another one here while we figure everything out.” 

“A whole year?” Johnny protested next to you, pushing the cart slowly. 

“It might be even more, these programs have very limited timelines.” You didn’t budge at his groan, focusing on reading the back of a pancake mix box. 

“But his family basically invented science! We’re astronauts, I can have Reed call any school and he’d be accepted in a heartbeat–“ 

“Don’t you think Reed would have to know about his existence first?” You cut him off, setting the box on the cart. 

He stopped moving. “Yeah…yeah I guess.” His shoulders sagged as he leaned on the top of the cart, lowering his gaze to the box you just put in. “I mean I could call…offer a few of the calendars I give to the fire department every year and boom! Accepted.” He shrugged playfully, but his joke didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Johnny, we said we weren’t going to rush it. We have time, we can look for schools together, and find the best place for…us.” 

Us. 

“Yeah I know…no rushing it,” he assured, straightening up to place his hands on your waist, bringing you closer. “I just…I can’t wait to be close to you all the time. For our toothbrushes to be next to each other and all that stuff, you know.” 

You laughed, but your heart still lurched at his warm hands on you. He hadn’t stopped being touchy since last night. “We’ll get there, Johnny,” you said softly, “without bribing people with calendars.” 

“Oh come on, you’re no fun!” He whined, but he was grinning anyway. “I’ll get you a few, the fireman get all the shirtless pictures.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh again in the middle of the aisle. 

He laughed with you, never letting go of your waist, but his smile faltered enough for you to notice. “Hey, what is it?” You asked, searching for his eyes. 

“I, um…” He cleared his throat, eyes flicking to the shelves of items around you. “There’s something else we could do to start though, like I said I’m not trying to rush this but I’ve been thinking about it all morning and I–“

“Johnny, just say it.” 

“I want Leo to know who I really am.” He blurted. “I mean–not just like the dad he doesn’t call dad yet, that sleeps on his couch and buys him cereal to bribe him–which, I do, but…I mean all of me. My flames, my job…I want him to know that part too.”

When you didn’t answer instantly, he added quickly, “I don’t want to scare him or overwhelm him, so I would need your help with that, but…I’d rather it come from me, from us, before he manages to figure it out on his own, given his record.”

You pressed your lips together, thinking. But just as he was about to spiral again, you nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” His eyes widened, like he was expecting more of a fight. 

“Yes, okay,” you laughed at his surprise. “We could tell him tonight over dinner, but I’m going to warn you Johnny, this isn’t just flames and smiles and comic book moments. You need to prepare yourself for the million questions he’s gonna ask.”  

He nodded frantically, finally letting go of your waist to celebrate with air punches. “I want him to. I’m ready, I’m so ready.” He smiled from ear to ear, and you couldn’t help but smile too. 

“Alright, hotshot. Think about how you’re gonna make your grand reveal, I’m going to find some dino nuggets to lessen the blow.” You said, patting his chest softly before turning around. “And pick some cereal in the meantime!” You yelled, walking away. 

Johnny could only do what he’d been doing after last night. Smile like an idiot…and fix the crotch of his jeans, as you turned around the corner. 

He was on fire. His son was finally going to know he was The Human Torch. 

He pushed the cart as he strolled into the cereal aisle almost absentmindedly, already knowing where to find what he needed, when an orange box he’d never seen before caught his eye. 

“Wheatie’s Thunderbolts edition,” he read, eyes judging the comic illustrations of some mystery superheroes he had never heard of. “What the hell? They sell these and not mine?” He muttered under his breath, squinting at the names on the box. “Who even are these guys…U.S Agent? Pft. What’s next, a Homelander?” He shook his head, and with a theatrical sigh, he shoved the stupid box back onto the shelf. 

This is what I get for saving the world. Nothing more than irrelevant in a small town. Unbelievable. 

But just as his shoulders slumped in defeat, something shiny blue caught his eye. He faced it slowly, and his pupils dilated like he just found the gates to heaven, or a whole mid aisle ‘Fantastic Four’ display. There, dozens of Lucky Charms: Human Torch Edition, were stacked in perfect rows. 

Just arrived! Get your free Johnny Storm figure inside 🔥 read the banner across the display. 

“Oh my God…” Johnny gasped. “No way!” He stood frozen for a second, eyes wide, mouth still open. Then he left the cart abandoned and jogged over like a kid on Christmas morning. “They have it. They actually have it now!” Johnny laughed under his breath, picking up the box with excitement. He could only imagine Leo’s little face when he found the little toy inside. 

Flame on! Flame on! Flame on! 

We have to tell him as soon as possible, I need to show him this after we–wait, should I get it now? Maybe just one…

“Okay, I’ll just get one for later,” he nodded to himself. “We will tell him and then bam! My name on his favorite cereal.” But then he saw the bottom shelf, with the family size ones, so he grabbed two more. “Actually...maybe just another one for good measure. I’m getting four. Yeah–that’s reasonable, I always get him two so the others are a bonus.”

I can’t wait to tell him. He’s gonna love it and I’m gonna be the best dad ever–

“God, I should’ve known this is where I’d find you.” 

Johnny almost dropped the boxes when the familiar voice came from behind him. He shut his eyes, real tight with a grimace. Maybe he imagined it, there was no way she was behind him right now. 

“Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm.” 

Fuck. 

That voice, that tone. He hadn’t heard it in weeks because he’d been avoiding it. He sighed deeply, and turned around slowly. He only opened one eye, to find none other than Sue with crossed arms in the middle of the aisle. He scattered to put the boxes back in a hurry, then turned to her again with wide eyes. 

“Sue? No no no no, what are you doing here?” He panicked, looking frantically to both sides making sure you weren’t there yet. “You shouldn’t have come!” 

“Excuse me?” She looked at him perplexed. She took a step forward as Johnny instinctively took one back. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through?” She snapped. “You’ve been dodging every call, sending vague messages instead. You went radio silent for weeks, when you were supposed to be–oh, I don’t know, fixing this, Johnny! Instead, I find you hiding in a cereal aisle, buying your own figures.”

“It’s not what it looks like!” He hissed defensively. “And lower your voice, she’s gonna hear you!” He whisper-yelled, eyes still darting toward the ends of the aisle. 

“Johnny–"

"I’m serious!" he snapped. "You have no idea how complicated this actually is. If she sees you now she’s gonna run the other way.” He kept glancing down the aisle like you were going to round the corner at any second, catch him mid encounter, and forget everything he’d done the past weeks. 

Sue narrowed her eyes at him in silence, but his pleading puppy eyes were enough for her to break her stance after a few seconds. 

"Oh, for God’s sake,” she sighed, and stepped forward. She reached out, wrapped her hands around his wrists, and in a blink, they both vanished out of sight. "Better?" she said, and Johnny exhaled in relief. "She can’t see me now. So why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?"

Johnny groaned. "You shouldn’t be here."

"And you shouldn’t be ignoring your family."

"I’m not ignoring you."

"Then what have you been doing? You stopped responding, and when you did reply, it was vague answers. You wouldn’t even take my calls. Do you know what I thought, Johnny? I thought she was dead." Her angry voice finally cracked. "I thought something happened and you couldn’t tell me…and turns out you’re just buying cereal, while we’ve been worried sick–while everything is falling apart back home.”

That rubbed him the wrong way. "Oh, so now you care."

Sue frowned, caught off guard by the defensiveness in his tone. 

"You want to talk about falling apart?" He took a step forward, lowering his voice even if no one around could hear them. "What about when I was falling apart back then? You took Reed’s side, told me to move on when I was still processing everything, took every last thing I had from her and locked it away. How do you think that made me feel, Sue?”

“Johnny–“ she whispered, eyes brimming with tears. 

“No, I'm not done yet. You don’t get to tell me about sadness.” He hissed. “And I’m not even the one you hurt the most. She lost everything. Her name, her home, her future. I said you can’t be here because she doesn’t trust you, or them, and I don’t blame her–God, she shouldn’t even trust me. But I’ve earned it, and it hasn’t been easy. I won’t let one surprise visit tear all that down." He regretted saying it the second it was out. The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but it was the truth.

Sue didn’t fight back, instead she wiped her tears and nodded. "You’re right, Johnny," she said, sniffing. "We didn't listen–I didn't listen. I let fear win, and I’ve been living with that every day since you found out she was telling the truth."

Johnny hadn’t noticed he’d been crying too, until he saw her through misty eyes. And she wasn’t angry anymore, she just looked wrecked.

"It’s been awful at the tower since then," she admitted, looking up to try to stop the tears. "Ben doesn’t really talk to us anymore. Reed hasn’t slept, he spends hours pulling old data files, thinking that if he just tries enough, he can rewind time and make it make sense. But it doesn’t, because nothing we do now will make up for what we did to her." She paused, only to swallow the lump in her throat. ”Franklin keeps asking where you are. He thinks it’s his fault you’re gone, and he’s scared you won’t come back like her…and me? I’ve been trying to keep it together for them. But it’s been eating me alive, Johnny. All I think about is that we broke her for nothing. We ruined her life, and I let it happen."

All that heaviness settled into an excruciating silence between them. Johnny could hear the faint noises of the store outside of Sue’s bubble, wheels of shopping carts, beeps of cash registers, the casual laughter of a kid running down the aisles. That’s the one that stung. She didn’t even know the worst part. 

God, perfect timing. You’d finally started talking about schools, about programs, about a future. With him. You were planning on telling him tonight about his powers for God’s sake. But that doesn’t change the fact that you haven't faced the hardest part yet. His family. 

"Let me help you,” she pleaded, breaking the silence. “I can–“

"No." He shook his head. "She’s not ready to see you, and you’re not about to make that decision for her. That’s only hers to give.”

Sue looked away, her lips pressed together in disappointment, but she still nodded. "I won’t let her see me, not unless she wants to," she promised. "But at least I need to know how…how is she?” She asked, hesitantly, expecting another wall from her brother. 

Johnny exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "She’s okay, but it’s taken a lot to get here. I swear I’ve aged more in these past few weeks than in the last six years."

“I understand, Johnny. It is very complicated, but…I just wanted to apologize, that’s it. I need to say it to her face. I can’t sleep knowing she thinks I still hate her."

Johnny groaned, he loved his sister, but she was getting on his nerves. 

"Sue, I’m fixing it, okay? Me. If you show up now, even just to say ‘sorry,’ we might go back to where we started. I can’t risk that, I can’t lose them again–“

Sue frowned. "Them…?" Who’s them?”

Johnny cursed under his breath, looking away. "Nothing–doesn’t matter."

But her eyes narrowed with suspicion, tightening her grip on him. "Johnny, what are you not telling me–"

"You need to go."

"Johnny!"

"Don’t–just…don’t, please.”

Sue hesitated, but Johnny looked at her again with the eyes she could never resist. She hated that look. It took her straight back to the times when he was just a kid who couldn’t sleep without her tucking him in.

Finally, she sighed. "Okay–but you better pick up my calls now.” She pointed at him. “And…when she's ready, she deserves to hear I’m sorry. From me."

He barely nodded. She couldn’t help it and grabbed him by the shoulders to hug him. Johnny stood frozen, arms stuck in the air for a moment. “Don’t shut us out, it’s already been hard enough.” She pleaded into his hair. 

“I won’t,” he whispered, finally letting himself fall into his sister's arms. He didn’t know how much he needed it until now. 

They hugged in silence, until Johnny cleared his throat and finally stepped back. “You said you wouldn’t let her see you, so let’s just…stick to that, alright? Just…stay invisible until you leave.” 

She sighed, then nodded. Sue let go of him, and with a shift of a rainbow glare around them, Johnny became visible again.

That was exactly when you turned the corner into the aisle. 

"What the fuck?" You froze in your step, eyes wide, clutching the frozen dino nuggets bag in your hands. 

No, no, no, please, no. His eyes widened as he pointed at the cereal display in a mix of guilt, panic, and a very badly disguised attempt at pretending he didn’t just come out of thin air.

"I–uh–these just arrived! Can you believe it?" He grinned, too wide, too excited. “I say we take four, it’d be irresponsible not to–"

"Johnny.” You took a step closer, dropping the bag on the cart before looking around . "She’s here, isn’t she?"

“She? Who’s she? No one’s here–”

“As far as I know, you don’t turn invisible, Johnny. That doesn’t just happen." You snapped. “Don’t lie to me, did you call her?”

“No, no, no, I didn’t,” he panicked, rushing to get in front of you, but you took a step back. “I’m telling the truth. I didn’t even know–”

“Where is she?” You insisted.

"I’m here." A voice came from behind Johnny. “He didn’t call me, I tracked him.”

The blood drained from your face when you heard it. You stepped aside from him, and Sue Storm flickered into view like a ghost dragged out of your memory. Suddenly you forgot all about the schools, and the houses, and the nuggets, as you got thrown into the past. At a simple glance she looked just as put together as you remembered her, perfect wavy hair, long burgundy leather coat on a cashmere turtleneck dress, and a fancy pair of brown boots to match. But her face, her bloodshot eyes, the dark circles on her fair complexion, and the slight shake of her hands didn’t lie. 

The two of you just stood there. None of you said anything, but it was all there. The invisible bruise between you both, the memory of that day, the betrayal, and the years that followed. You stared between them, and the shiny brand new cereal display with their number on it. It was just a matter of time before their world crashed into yours. 

"I’m sorry." She blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes flicked to Johnny, it hurt too much to look at her. He hadn’t moved either, just stood between you both, helpless, and even though every fiber of you screamed don’t break, don’t let her see, your body acted faster. You shifted, ever so slightly, getting back behind him. Not entirely, but enough to feel safer. 

And enough for Sue to notice. Enough for it to sting.

"I know I don’t deserve to just show up like this.” She hugged herself. “But I need you to know…I know we were wrong–I was wrong. I should’ve listened and I’m so sorry I didn't." She stepped a little closer, but Johnny angled himself better in front of you. "I know it doesn't justify it, but I was scared. And Reed…he thought he was right. But now that we know the truth, I haven’t slept, I haven’t breathed right in weeks. Franklin still asks about you, and now he keeps asking why Uncle Johnny doesn’t call anymore. Reed hasn’t left the lab and Ben…he’s just not the same–we are not the same."

Good.

"I don’t care if you never want to see me again after this, but I needed to look you in the eye and say it…I’m sorry. I am so sorry for what we did to you, for making you carry the weight of something that wasn’t your fault."

"That’s a lot easier to say now…now that you have the evidence." You said, eyes lowering to the floor. 

Johnny shifted slightly beside you, just a gentle step forward. He didn’t say anything, but he searched your face, wishing he could just reach out, wrap his arms around you and never let anyone close enough to hurt you again.

“I’m still gonna say it,” she shrugged, wiping the tears away. "I’m not asking you to forgive me. You don’t owe us anything…but I feel like we owe you everything.”

We owe you everything. Were they here too?

Your head shot up. "Are you here alone? Or did you bring someone else?" 

Sue shook her head."It’s just me, why?"

You didn’t have to answer for Johnny to know what you were thinking. What if Reed was here? What if Ben was parked outside? What if they found your house? What if they followed him? What if they knew?

Your hand brushed over your pocket, instinctively reaching for your phone, and right on cue it vibrated, your neighbor’s name bright on the screen. You turned around, walking a few steps away to answer with your heart racing.

Behind you, Sue narrowed her eyes. "Johnny," she whispered. "What the hell is going on? She looks terrified."

"God, Sue, I told you this was complicated–"

"Complicated doesn't make her scared of me."

A few steps away, you were able to breathe again when your neighbor just told you she’d be going out with the twins later, and Leo needed to be picked up soon. “I’ll be there in 20, Wanda, thank you.” 

“Sure, they’ve been having so much fun!” She chirped on the line, quickly being distracted by the boys in her charge. “No you can’t throw that out of the window, Billy–Hey! boys, I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to leave you–“ 

The line cut before you could laugh onto the phone, hoping Leo wasn’t partaking too much in the chaos. You finally sighed in relief, trying to ignore that voice in your head that told you he wasn’t safe. You made your way back to them, and cleared your throat to stop their hushed bickering. 

"Johnny we–uh, we have to go," you said, while Sue tried to figure out what your call was about. "Let’s check out and head back."

He stepped toward you, worry in his face. "Wait–can I talk to you for a second?" 

You nodded, and he gently took your hand and led you a few steps down where you took the call, while Sue stayed behind, pacing in her spot as she fiddled her necklace. 

“Is he okay? Something wrong?” 

“He’s okay, don’t worry. We just need to pick him up soon,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “But how do we…deal with this?” you asked, eyes flicking back toward Sue. 

"God–yeah, I’m sorry," he sighed. "I told her you weren’t ready to see her. I swear I had no idea she was even in town until she showed up in front of the damn cereal display. I was having a moment and she showed up out of nowhere…”

You laughed softly, more out of nerves than anything. "It’s just…It’s like seeing a ghost. It’s the same way I felt when I saw you on my doorstep. Like I blinked and got thrown six years into the past."

"I know, I’ll talk to her," he reassured. "I’ll tell her to leave, and I won’t tell her anything else."

You nodded, but Johnny lingered just a second longer. He leaned to press a kiss to your cheek, meant to be casual, respectful in front of Sue, but it landed just at the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t help the little smile on your face as you turned to grab the shopping cart, head ducked low as you tucked a hair strand behind your ear. Sue, behind Johnny, saw it all. 

Past me, I want to tell you not to get lost on these petty things

Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

Sue hadn’t said a word since they sat down in the store’s cafeteria while you were at the cashier. Her tears had finally dried up, and she pulled her coat tighter, crossed her arms, and stared at a fidgety Johnny with narrowed eyes hoping for a confession instead of a ‘good riddance!’. 

“You’re hiding something,” she accused, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m not–“ He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, you already said your apologies and saw she’s okay. Still hurting, yes. But she’s rebuilding and I’m helping her, that’s all you need to know. Now you go back to the Tower and let me keep fixing it.” 

“You seem very eager to kick me out.” She narrowed her eyes more. “To keep hiding whatever it is you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He rolled his eyes, dropping his head back dramatically. “Sue–“

“No, no. Hear me out,” she cut him off, leaning forward, “The way she smiled after you kissed her, tells me you’ve done more than get your foot in the door.”

Johnny stilled in his seat. 

Sue raised an eyebrow. “Wait, did you two actually–already?”

“I’m not talking about this with you.” He looked away, avoiding her gaze. 

“So you did sleep with her.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “God, Johnny you really don’t waste time, do you?. ‘It’s been complicated’–sure it’s been!” She mocked, as Johnny groaned, turning more and more red. “Okay, okay, sorry, it’s just–you’re blushing like you’re fifteen again sneaking a girl into your room.”

Johnny groaned again, louder this time, and buried his face in his hands. “Sue, you really have no idea. This is not just some random fling in high school, this is serious.” 

“Why? I mean, it’s not the first time,” she teased, but that only made Johnny sink deeper into his seat. She noticed Johnny was a bit more flustered than usual, so she tilted her head analyzing him. She gasped after a few seconds, her amusement dying down as worry overtook her features. “Wait–Is she married? Johnny, please don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping with a married woman.” 

“What the hell–No! God, Sue!”

“I had to ask! You’re acting very weird right now.” She shrugged, “Tell me what it is then.” she pressed, but he didn’t answer. “Is she sick? Did something else happen to her? “ 

Sue went through many possibilities in a matter of seconds. But then she remembered…the nuggets. 

“Wait–does she…does she have a kid?”

That's when his breath hitched. Sue’s eyes widened. “Oh my god–she has a child?” 

All the blush on Johnny's face drained, his face went pale. Fuck it. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. 

“She has a son.” He said. “A bit over five years old.”

A strangled gasp escaped her mouth, her brain couldn’t string words together fast enough to meet the truth that had just hit her.

“My God, Johnny. You’re telling me she–please tell me he’s not yours.” She pleaded, tears already welling up before she could stop them. 

Johnny suddenly got déjà vu. He was about to break his sister’s heart the same way you broke his. 

“He’s mine, Sue.” He shrugged, because there was no sugarcoating the bittersweet truth. “He’s my son.” 

Sue forgot how to breathe. My brother has a son. I have a nephew. It wasn’t just shock that took over her, but grief. Raw and cold and devastating, because the pain wasn’t over. 

“You mean–she was pregnant when–when we–“ Sue’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her sobs. “We didn’t just destroy her, Johnny. We–” She shook her head, tears slipping freely now. “We destroyed a child.”

“Sue–”

“Your child.” Her breath hitched, voice rising before she could stop it. A couple turned from a nearby table. Johnny reached out across the table quickly to take her shaking hands on his. 

“Hey, hey–it’s alright.” His words came out panicked, a whisper of desperation. “You need to breathe, come on, people are looking.”

But Sue shook her head. “All this time,” she sobbed between breaths. “All these years, we’ve been sleeping soundly in that damn tower, and she–she was raising him alone.”

Her voice shattered completely on that last word. Johnny looked away, because he remembered the first time he realized that too, and how it had wrecked him.

“I wish it wasn’t that way, but I didn’t know. I swear to you, I didn’t know. I only found out when I came here…that I have a son, Sue, I have a son.” He chuckled through tears, but that only made Sue sob harder. 

“You have a son,” she choked. “A five year old, Johnny, that’s five years without you. We took that from your son. I took that.”

“You didn’t know,” he said quickly, “None of us did.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s a baby, Johnny–he’s your baby. And he grew up thinking that his father didn’t want him? That we–”

“Don’t. Don’t go there, come on.”

“But could’ve been there, he could’ve been growing up with us, safe. We could’ve loved him. And instead she raised him alone. She was alone. No wonder she looked at me like she was reliving the worst day of her life,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did to her, for what I did to you…for what I did to him.”

Johnny’s eyes softened, he squeezed her freezing hand. “I know,” he said softly. “Believe me, I know, I’ve been there. The day I found out, I thought I’d never be able to look at myself again.”

Sue looked at him through tears. He’d never sounded more mature to her. The cocky little brother she used to scold even at this age had turned into a man carrying the weight of two very different lives.

“What’s his name?” she asked finally, her voice barely audible. “What’s he like?”

“His name’s Leo. Leo Spencer.” Johnny smiled, Sue’s lip quivered. “He’s wonderful, Sue, he’s like all of my fire but a thousand times better. He’s smart, like Reed smart, talks a lot, thinks even faster, and for some reason he loves to wash his hands.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s too big for this town…for anywhere, really. 

Sue sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Does he know who you are?”

“He does…now he does–figured it all out on his own, too.” He chuckled. 

That undid her all over again. She let out a choked breath, pressing her palm to her throbbing chest, eyes filling once more.

“I want to see him,” she whispered. “I need to see him.”

“I don’t know if she–“

“Let me try, please. I can’t go back. Not after knowing all I know now.” She begged. “Please, Johnny.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes drifted toward the cafeteria’s window, where the golden sunlight spilled through the glass. That took him back to the ice cream shop. To his shock when he saw him for the first time in daylight, to Leo’s million questions, to the chocolate smudge on his little face, and he smiled without even realizing. Then he looked back at his crying sister…maybe she deserved the chance to see that for herself. Lord knows he’d been dying to brag about him anyways. 

But you held the final word. “Let me figure it out.”

You knew it the second he came back to you. Sue wasn’t around anymore, but it was all in his eyes, looking way too guilty as he took the cart with the paper bags from your hands. 

“You told her.”

“She got it out of me,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I swear I didn’t mean to–but she…she started making theories, okay? Even asked if I was sleeping with a married woman and I–”

“Wait, I meant about Leo. Johnny, did you tell her that we–?”

“Well, it’s not like she didn’t hear us the first time…” 

You nudged his arm. “Johnny!”

“I didn’t give her details!” he rushed out, “Look, she’s my sister, and she knows me. She started pressing and now she kinda knows stuff…about you and me, and…Leo.” He let out a sigh. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn't easy. She–God, she was wrecked. I haven’t seen her like that since our mom…well, that was a long time ago. But, she wasn’t even mad, just…devastated.”

You let out a long exhale and looked away. Of course she was. 

“She wants to meet him,” he tried softly. “But only if you’re okay with it. I’m not pushing you, I swear I’m not, but it’s out there now. We’re not hiding anymore.”

“Johnny, I don’t trust her…yet.”

“I know.”

“But I trust you. And I’m tired, Johnny, I’m so tired of hiding, of looking over my shoulder all the time, of lying to Leo,” you admitted. “I shouldn't be planning his future without including one of the biggest parts of it. Maybe I just need to stop waiting for the perfect timing, maybe I just need to allow myself to heal. So…she can meet him. But if she tries anything…”

“She won’t,” he said quickly, reaching for your hand. “Thank you, thank you for giving me this. I know you’re scared, and so am I, but we’ll do it together. Every step, always,” he promised.

You smiled and nodded. Always. 

I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans

That's my man

Johnny’s truck pulled up to the curb of your house, as Sue’s sleek white rental parked right behind it. The whole way there was quiet, your hands still fidgeting on your lap, freezing from the uneasiness on your chest. 

Until you felt his hand find yours. Always warm, always protective. You glanced down, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, and it was enough to keep you grounded. 

“You know you don’t have to go through with it, right?” he reassured, eyes locked on yours. “You can still say no, and I’ll tell her to head back to New York.”

“No, it’s time.” You shook your head slowly. “I’ll go get him, you go with her.” You squeezed his hand, before stepping out of the truck.

Sue sat nervously inside her rental, as she watched you walk a few houses down through her overpriced plastic sunglasses. She’d tried wiping the smudged makeup under her eyes in a red light, but she ended up looking worse. And her last attempt at hiding the fact she’d been crying the whole way there was unsuccessful, since the light shaded lenses didn’t really help much. 

Johnny made his way over to her side, the window rolling down smoothly revealing his sister clutching a wrinkled tissue paper for dear life. She immediately sat up straighter and cleared her throat. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“Sue, I haven’t been sure about anything since I arrived here,” he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling. “But uh–I guess it’s happening. She’s picking him up.” 

She turned to the house she saw you walk to, wanting to get a peek as you talked to a redhead on the porch. “Well, is she sure about this?” 

“Kinda…yes. Just–don’t crowd her,” he followed her gaze. “This isn’t easy for her, none of this has been.”

Sue bit her bottom lip and nodded. The moment she saw a little boy come out of the house,  tugging your hand as he bounded down the steps, everything else vanished.

He was Johnny, all over again. Same hair, same lashes no boy that age should have. He moved like her brother too, light on his feet, a bounce in his step, like the world was not ready for the storm coming. 

“He’s…” she whispered, her voice breaking again, “he’s you, Johnny.”

“Yeah, he is…” Johnny gave her a prideful smile. “Come on, come meet him,” Johnny said softly, opening the door for her.

“What do I even say?”

“You say hi,” he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you try not to scare him off with your ugly cry face.”

She let out an offended laugh, swatted his chest, and finally stepped out of the car. She adjusted her sunglasses again, and walked toward you. You were already crouching in front of Leo on the sidewalk trying to stay calm even though your palms were sweating cold and your heartbeat felt way too loud. 

“Hey,” you said softly. “I want you to meet someone else.”

He narrowed his eyes at you immediately. Déjà vu.

“Like a friend?” he asked cautiously. “Like Johnny?”

You let out a shaky laugh. Smart little monster. “Something like that,” you shrugged. 

He looked unconvinced, studying you with those impossibly intuitive eyes, but he didn’t argue. You tucked a small piece of lint from his shirt sleeve, and smoothed down his messy hair from terrorizing the neighbor's household. Johnny put one hand on Sue’s back as he guided her, smiling when he saw you preparing Leo to meet his aunt. You tensed when they finally stopped next to you, but Leo? Oh Leo. He eagerly turned to them, looked her up and down in that shameless way only a kid his age could look cute doing, and pointed out with a totally serious tone.

“You look like Johnny.”

Sue tilted her head, smiling immediately. You stood upright, walking behind him. 

“I…yeah. I guess I do.” She crouched in front of him, studying every part of his little face. 

He crossed his arms, and then, without hesitating, “Are you his mom?”

You suddenly had three adults with jaws on the floor. You covered your mouth to muffle a snort, Johnny’s eyes almost budged out his face, and Sue…she just blinked. 

“No, no, no, buddy,” Johnny finally blurted, crouching next to her. “This is my sister. Her name is Sue.”

You watched his whole face light up with the realization.

“I have an aunt!?” Leo exclaimed, with barely contained excitement.

You barely noticed that you’d stepped a little closer to him. Just enough to feel the warmth coming off his little body, your hand brushing his back instinctively when you realized he was no longer just yours. 

Sue let out a breathy, stunned laugh that almost turned into a sob. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, sweetheart. I guess that means I’m your aunt.”

“Cool!” Leo’s grin widened. 

Johnny exhaled in relief, staring up at you with the biggest smile ever mouthing a ‘thank you’. You smiled back at him, but you quickly cleared your throat, hand still on Leo’s back.

“Okay, let’s go inside. My neighbors have already seen too much this year.” You chuckled, guiding Leo toward the front steps, while Sue followed close behind. 

Johnny jogged back to the truck to get the groceries out, casting a quick glance up and down the street. He was sure he saw at least two curtains budging. Typical. 

You unlocked the door and walked inside, feeling instant relief to be in your safe place. Sue lingered a second before stepping in, letting her fingers trail lightly along the white doorframe. She smiled at the tiny pair of red boots next to the ‘Welcome!’ mat. 

The moment she stepped inside, she took it all in slowly. The soft light, the warmth, the history of the place. Her nephew’s home, his life. Your life. She took off her sunglasses, folding them in her hand, caught on the way Leo kicked his little shoes off by the door, and strolled to the kitchen to ask you for some water. Johnny gave her a gentle nudge as he walked in, paper bags balanced on his arms. 

Sue watched it all quietly. The way Leo looked up at you when you laughed at something he said about the neighbor’s house. The soft way your fingers caressed Leo’s cheek when you handed him the water. The way Johnny’s shoulders dropped the moment he saw you both just existing. 

“Mom, did you get my cereal?” Leo asked against his plastic blue cup.

Johnny froze for a second, then he placed the grocery bags on the counter. He scratched the back of his neck and muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse.

“About that…” He said, stepping over to Leo, “they were, uh…sold out, buddy.”

“Oh, really?” Leo couldn't hide his disappointment.

Johnny crouched next to him, ruffling his hair. “But I got strawberries for you, buddy.”

Leo perked up instantly. “And blueberries too?”

“Of course, champ.”

“I’m gonna wash my hands!” Leo grinned and strolled toward the bathroom. 

Johnny turned to you with a crooked smile, winking before fishing the plastic containers out the paper bags, and walked to the sink to rinse the fruit for Leo. He dried the berries with a paper towel and you handed him a small bowl, where he mixed two blueberries for every strawberry, just how Leo liked it, and handed them off with a smile that matched his son’s.

“Thank you, Johnny.” Leo said, happily skipping to the breakfast table, where Johnny helped him settle in.

You began putting stuff away, eyeing Sue, who never took her eyes off Leo. She suddenly understood why Johnny hadn’t answered her calls. He had found something sacred here, a home, something he wanted to protect with his life…even from her. She felt out of place for a moment, crashing a household she never knew existed. 

She’d always loved being a mother, it became the center of her world. Franklin’s first cry, first tooth, first steps across their living room, the never ending questions, even the tantrums. She’d seen Reed hold their son with awe and stumble through lullabies in the dead of night. She always had both of them. 

And her brother…Johnny hadn’t had any of it.

He didn’t have you or his boy. His copy. All this time, he’d been missing the firsts that had shaped Sue’s life as a mother, and her heart broke for him. But there was a bit of hope left, because she knew Johnny still had a first waiting. She’d noticed it instantly, the way Leo called him Johnny, not dad. He’d only just learned the truth, and the word hadn’t found its way past his lips, but one day it will. At least Johnny would get that moment, the first time Leo called him Dad. She knew her brother would hold on to that like oxygen, and maybe then, she could breathe right too. 

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Leo announced he was done with a satisfied “Thank you!”, then leaped from his seat to skip toward the couch where Sue sat. He stood in front of her with a tilted head, deciding if she was worth inviting to check his books. Sue just watched him with a smile and playful narrowed eyes. She’d only known his existence for barely an hour, but she’d already decided she’d love this mini Johnny as much as her own son. 

“Leo,” she said his name softly, and his head perked up. “Do you mind if I hug you?”

You watched the interaction with wide eyes from the kitchen, tensing next to Johnny. He placed his hand instinctively on your back, letting you know he was there if you just wanted to pick Leo up and lock yourself until you felt it was safe again. Maybe part of you wanted to do that, because you were still scared…but your Leo wasn't. 

“Okay, but not too tight, I just ate.” 

The answer made you laugh softly. You looked as Sue hugged Leo with so much intensity, probably even too tight, but the boy just giggled in her embrace. Johnny’s hand slid across your back and wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him. Maybe you were right. Maybe your path to healing was simply allowing yourself to, no matter how things happened from now on. 

Because the answer stood right in front of you. In Leo, in that bright mind and those curious eyes, because he was the bridge to this new world. 

You turned to Johnny, pulling back just enough so he could see the determination in your eyes. “Johnny, we have to tell him, now. He deserves to know who you are.” You whispered, while Sue and Leo chattered away. 

He panicked, his blue eyes darting from Sue and Leo to you. “Now? You mean now now? What about dinner or–nuggets! What about the nuggets to lessen the blow? He deserves that at least.”

“The nuggets were actually for you.” You smiled apologetically at his face of disbelief, then sighed. “Johhny…you said it yourself, we’re not hiding anymore. Secrets tear families apart. I’m not gonna make the same mistake again. It’s now or never.”

“Now or never, yeah that’s a great pep talk,” He almost groaned, but when his eyes found yours again, they softened. “Are you sure? Really sure?”

“I’m sure. He already knows you’re his dad, now he needs to know who his dad really is.” You gave him a soft pat on his chest, and he nodded. 

You waited until Leo and Sue were done with their conversation, before stepping toward the living room. Johnny sat next to Sue, and you across from them, and Leo went instinctively to your side.

You smoothed his reckless hair back, taking a big breath. “Leo, sweetheart, there’s something important we need to tell you.”

His eyes narrowed, immediately alert. “You’re introducing me to someone else?”

“No, baby. Not now at least.” You said softly. “I know you’ve met Johnny, and now you’ve met Sue. They’re your family…and there’s still a few more you need to meet. I know I told you before that they live very far away, but we might be together more now, and we think you deserve to know the whole truth first. So Johnny wants to show you something.”

Leo’s brows furrowed, and he looked over at Johnny, sizing up his next victim for questioning. “Show me what?”

“Come here, buddy.” He gestured in front of him, and the kid skipped toward Johnny. “You’ve heard about the Fantastic Four, right?”

Leo nodded quickly, excited. “They told us about them once in school. They live in New York! They have Dr. Reed Richards, the smartest man alive, and the Thing, and the Invisible Woman, and The Human Torch...Why? Do you know about the Fantastic Four?”

You looked at him stunned. You knew he’d heard about them to some degree, everyone had, but it was weird hearing their names in his mouth. Sue was quiet next to Johnny, knowing she was witnessing her brother’s entire world, and Leo’s, fall into place. But Johnny only looked at you, and you nodded for him to continue. Now or never. 

“Well, I uh…I don’t just know about them. I’m kind of part of it.”

“Part of it?” Leo’s mouth dropped open. 

Johnny steadied himself. His hand twitched just a little as he extended his palm out in front of Leo, careful to keep enough distance. Then, with a soft glow, a flame bloomed in his hand, the golden light spilling across their faces. You all watched expectantly. 

His gasp was sharp, the fire crackled in waves, reflecting in Leo’s wide eyes.  “You–you’re the Human Torch!”

Johnny just nodded; he couldn't get words out. Leo stared at the flame, awe written all over his face as the reality settled. His father, the man he always dreamed about, was the same one who could hold fire in his hands. Johnny couldn’t help the tears prickling his eyes and the smile that spread across his face. But then, oh boy, Leo had a thousand questions. 

“How hot do your flames get? Is it plasma or actual fire? Does it change the temperature around you? It’s because of cosmic radiation, isn't it? Does it hurt? How fast can you fly? Why didn’t you tell me before–” He hardly paused for oxygen, his little hands waving around as his mouth moved quicker than his brain. 

“Hey, hey, slow down, buddy–”

But Leo just turned to Sue, his eyes went wide in realization. “So are you the Invisible Woman? You can bend light around your body? Do the force fields work the same way? Could you make a bubble around me right now?”

Sue let out the tiniest, nervous laugh, her glossy eyes darting to Johnny, because she saw that same fiery, dramatic curiosity, burning so hot it was about to fry his little brain. And it did. Leo’s chest rose and fell too quickly, his questions stumbling over themselves until they turned into incoherent words, it was too much for his little body to contain. His lip quivered, and his eyes welled up.  

You immediately stepped in, kneeling and pulling him close. “Hey, hey, baby…breathe. I know, I know, it’s a lot.” Your eyes welled up too, God, you should’ve listened to Johnny. This was just too much. You glanced up at them, both stunned as they watched you trying to calm him down. 

Leo clutched your shirt, peeking over your shoulder at Johnny with wide eyes. And then, without a warning, Leo turned away from you, and climbed straight into Johnny’s lap, his small hands now clutching his jacket. He buried his face against Johnny’s chest and just sobbed. All Johnny could do was wrap his arms around his son, rocked him gently, and pressed his lips against the crown of his blonde head. 

“Shh, hey, buddy… it's okay. You don’t have to understand right now, just let it out. I got you, I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured, and your heart broke with every hiccup coming out of your son’s mouth. Johnny looked at you with the same pain in his eyes. “I’ll take him to his room, just to calm him down?”

You nodded, and watched through misty eyes as Johnny stood, carrying Leo in his arms. Sue stayed behind with you in the living room as Johnny disappeared down the hall. And in Leo’s bedroom, it was quieter. Johnny sat on the edge of the bed with Leo curled into him, rubbing his back in slow circles, and kissing the side of his hair.

“I know it’s a lot, buddy, I didn't mean to scare you with my flames. I promise they will never hurt you, okay? Never.” 

Leo tipped his tear streaked face up. “But does it hurt you?” He sniffled. “When you…when you use your flames, do they hurt you?”

“Not even a little, buddy. Feels like…like standing in the sun. All warm and nice.”

“If you stood in the sun it would hurt a lot,” Leo argued, even through his tears. 

Johnny threw his head back in a shaky laughter. “Alright, bad analogy. It feels warm like…sunlight, do you feel it?” He asked, increasing his temperature just enough so his son could feel even cozier in his arms. 

Leo nodded. “I like it,” he let out a sniffly giggle. “And you save people?”

“That’s what I try to do, yeah.”

“…If you save people,” he whispered, “does that mean…you can keep me safe too?”

Johnny only pulled Leo closer. “Of course, baby, always. Your dad will always keep you safe. There’s nothing in this world or the next that could stop me from doing that.”

Back in the living room, you sat stiffly next to Sue, fighting the urge to go to Leo’s room, but not wanting to overwhelm him more. 

“You know,” you stared softly, without looking at her. “Now that he met you, that means he’s closer to meeting Reed and Ben…and he’ll step into your world sooner or later. And that terrifies me.” You confessed, shaking your head. “Because…what if he looks at me differently? Now that he knows there’s more out there in the world than what I can offer him. Now that he knows that his family are literal superheroes and I’m just…me.”

“Stop, don’t do that to yourself.” Sue said gently. “Look at what you’ve built here, all alone. You’ve done an incredible job with Leo. He’s happy, he’s brilliant, and he knows he’s loved. That’s everything. That’s not something Johnny gave him, that’s not something any of us did. That was all you. And as a mother, I understand why you kept him away. You were protecting him from what just happened, but this wasn't a mistake. He deserved the truth, and you gave it to him. And come on, you’re here talking to me instead of running to see him because you’d rather do that than risk making it worse for him. That’s a superpower alone.” She laughed under her breath, making you smile. You finally looked at her, and her hesitant hand found yours. “You’ve given him everything, really, and now Johnny gets to share that too. You’re not alone anymore. None of you are.” 

You could only give her hand a squeeze, and nod in silent gratitude. Because maybe you weren’t ready to grant forgiveness yet, but you were ready to let her try. You finally lifted from the couch, dropping her hand gently. You didn't have to say anything, just padded toward Leo’s room quietly, and peeked over the doorframe. 

Johnny was holding a sleeping Leo like he was holding the entire universe. Leo’s little face was buried in his chest, small body curled safely into his father’s arms, finally peaceful, finally complete. The thought of Reed and Ben, of the tower, of the bigger world…it didn’t feel so terrifying anymore. Not when the three of you already feel like home.

No more tug of war, now I just keep you warm 

And my waves meet your shore, ever and evermore

September, one year later.

New Jersey.

“Ugh–Johnny!” you called out, staring down at the box your foot just collided with. “Why are these in the middle of the hallway?”

No answer. You squinted at the label on the box. LEO’S ROOM – BOOKS 1. You shook your head, pushing the heavy box to the side, sighing when you realized there were more where those came from. BOOKS 2, BOOKS 3, BOOKS 4, BOOKS 7–God, it had only gotten worse since his family started getting books for him. You decided to forget about the boxes, and quickly caught yourself lost in the beauty of your new house for the millionth time.

The house was one story, just like your old one, but this one stretched wide in the corner of a fancy neighborhood street. A beautiful, pale blue welcomed you from the outside, with white trims and soft gabled lines. It looked straight out of a catalog, but this one had your name on it. It wasn’t even fully furnished yet, mostly filled with cardboard boxes scattered all over, but it was yours. 

Inside, the space was flooded with natural light pooling across the wood floors. The almost floor to ceiling windows wrapped around the white living room, framing the golden trees outside like moving paintings. Autumn poured in through every glass panel, and you could see the breeze rustling the branches from nearly every room. You loved the cozy nooks and built-in bookshelves lining the hallway, but your favorite was Leo’s room, just down the corridor. You made your way there, hearing the voices before you even reached the door. 

“Dad, you’re doing it wrong!”

“I know what I’m doing, buddy.”

“No you don’t!”

You finally arrived, leaning your shoulder on the doorframe, amused. Leo was standing in the middle of his bright new room, holding a manual, six and half years old and absolutely done with the man on the floor in front of him. Johnny was knee deep trying to figure out the pieces of a very nice, very large and very not put together white bookshelf.

“Okay, okay–don’t panic,” Johnny said, voice muffled by one screw clenched between his teeth, “This one just goes–uh, wait, where’d the instructions go?”

“I have them,” Leo said, waving the paper exasperated. “Dad, you skipped step four! That’s why the screws don’t fit, they go somewhere else."

Johnny took one look and then shook his head, pretending he wasn't completely lost. “Leo, it’s the same thing.”

“It’s not!”

You pressed your hand to your lips to keep from laughing. because Johnny Storm was being humbled by a kid with an eye for detail. His kid.

Johnny finally caught your presence and straightened up on the floor. “Hey, this is under control. Just so you know.” He grinned, too proud for his own good…and Leo’s.

“We’ve been stuck on step three for like…forever,” the kid complained, making Johnny roll his eyes. “It was better when Mommy did it,” Leo deadpaned, flipping the instructions toward you.

Johnny turned to you with wide eyes, betrayal all over his face. “You hear this? No respect in this house.”

“Well, in his defense, I did build all of our furniture back in Georgia.” You strolled into the room with a smile, but just as you reached for the manual, the doorbell rang. “Oh, they must be here! Hang on, baby, be nice. Don’t be so hard on your dad.” You said, ruffling Leo’s hair on your way out.

Behind you, Leo groaned like a tiny old man. Johnny muttered something under his breath, which was definitely not suitable for a six year old. You said something similar when you almost tripped over another rogue box in the hallway as you headed for the door. When you opened it, the familiar faces waiting for you made your heart squeeze. Ben Grimm stood front and center, holding a foil covered tray in his massive hands. The cheesy smell hit you before he even said hello. A very sheepish Reed stood next to him, with a mysterious translucent blue box on his hands.

“Figured you got your hands full with all the boxes,” Ben spoke first, with a soft smile. “And, well, Johnny still can’t cook to save his life. So, I thought I’d bring a little something to celebrate the new place.”

“You brought your lasagna?” you asked, already smiling at the tenderness in his voice.

“You know it.” he said, with a proud little nod.

“That’s very nice of you, Ben. Thank you.” You stepped aside and gestured him in. “Come on in, the oven was installed just yesterday.”

He nodded and made his way to the open kitchen, past the trail of half unpacked boxes, torn packing paper, and random Human Torch plushie on the floor. You followed him with your gaze until he settled the lasagna on the kitchen island, right next to Leo’s and Johnny’s lined up cereal stack. You turned your body back to the door, eyes settling on the second figure lingering on the porch. Reed stood just a little off to the side, unsure. You took a better look at the box he was holding, sleek and translucent in their signature blue, straight out of the Baxter Building. 

“Hi Reed,” you greeted politely. 

“I–uh…hi,” he greeted back, and cleared his throat. Even after a year, you could still see the guilt he carried in those deep brown eyes. Reed was never one to forgive himself easily, if ever, so your process with him had been a little different than with the others. “Apologies for Sue, she couldn’t come with us. Franklin had a dentist appointment, but they’ll come by later. She’s been really looking forward to seeing the new home.” 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you nodded softly. “And…the box?” You lifted an eyebrow.

“Ah, yes…I brought something for Leo. Learning material I used when Franklin was younger. They’re highly stimulating, and he showed excellent development with them at this age, so I thought they could be useful for my…for my nephew, too.”

My nephew. It still tasted strange, especially when he felt he didn’t even deserve to call him that, not even now. Yet here he was, on your doorstep, offering something thoughtful for him. 

“Thank you, Reed,” you smiled, taking the big box from his hands. It was lighter than it looked, even as it was filled with all types of puzzles and stuff you couldn't really make out, but Leo most likely would. “Come in, he’ll want to thank you himself,” you tilted your head toward the hallway, making your way back to Leo’s room as he shut the front door.

From the end of the hallway, a very loud, very frustrated voice echoed through the walls. “Dad, I told you, the flat screws go in the side!”

“Leo’s teaching Johnny how to read a manual,” you explained to Reed, who stopped midway when he heard it. “I think you’ll find it delightful.”

There was a twitch at the corner of Reed’s mouth, memories of his own son flashing his head. You didn’t even make it past the doorway of Leo’s room before Johnny stumbled upright when he saw you, while Leo was too focused on counting a pile of scattered screws like his life depended on it.

Johnny brushed the dust off his grey sweatpants and tight burgundy shirt, eyes flicking to the box in your hands. “Let me help you with that, sweetheart,” he said, already reaching to take it, and stealing a kiss on your cheek that made you smile. “I’m being bullied here,” he announced dramatically, shaking his head. “All those years complaining about Reed, and now my own kid is worse than him.”

“What was that, Johnny?”

Johnny’s eyes widened, he peeked over your shoulder and smiled exaggeratedly. “Reed! I didn’t see you there. Thanks for–” he leaned over to glance inside the box. “...whatever this is!”

Leo’s head snapped up from the screws. “Uncle Reed!” He exhaled in relief, as if a competent adult had finally arrived. “Finally! Someone who knows stuff.”

“Excuse me?” Johnny turned to him, but Leo was already marching toward Reed and shoving the instruction manual into his hands. 

“You’re smart enough to be able to build a bookshelf!”

“Smart enough, huh–you know what? This is your problem now,” Johnny shrugged to Reed, who held the paper hesitantly and looked panicked at you two. Johnny set the box down, and turned to you, lowering his voice. “Come on, before Leo unionizes.”

You stifled another laugh as he took your hand and hurried you out of the room, with Leo’s commanding voice fading behind. “No, Uncle Reed. That piece goes there, please read the manual.”

Down the hallway toward the front of the house, just out of sight from Leo’s room, you dodged the boxes, Johnny bumped into one and cursed under his breath before spinning around, hands now entirely free, and wiggling his eyebrows with mischief in his eyes. 

“Well, look at that. My hands are free now,” he teased, softly pressing you to the corridor wall. “Guess I can finally get them on you.”

You laughed, stumbling into his chest as your hip knocked into a stack of boxes that were labeled as FRAGILE - JOHNNY’S RECORDS. “His room is turning beautiful, Johnny. The whole house is…” You beamed, running your hands through his hair.

“Yeah?” He smiled, then kissed you, quick at first, but he was already chasing another before you could breathe. Between your giggles, he nuzzled closer, planting one slow kiss after another down your neck until he found that sweet spot that made your breath hitch.

“Johnny…”

“What? Can’t I kiss my dear fiancée that loves our new house?" He whispered against your skin. “We haven’t even christened it yet.”

You laughed harder now. “Yeah, but not with them in the house. And you still have to build our bed.”

“That’s what the floor is for, babe,” he smirked, still kissing along your collarbone. “We’ve gotten good at being quiet anyways, they won’t hear us…”

“I can hear you.” 

You both froze at the voice coming from the kitchen. Ben.

You peeked your heads around the corner and found Ben standing by the stove, casually stirring sauce like he wasn’t a victim of your hallway make out session. His eyes flicked up to you in an unimpressed and amused way.

“Sorry, Ben.” You smiled apologetically, trying to fix your hair, face heated up.

Johnny, unfazed and standing proudly behind you, still placed his hand down the curve of your ass, chuckling when you slapped it away. “Ohhh, is that lasagna I smell?” He made a beeline to dip his finger on the sauce Ben was stirring, but got his hand slapped again. 

“Don’t you dare, fire boy. Go wash your hands first.” Ben said without even looking up. Johnny rolled his eyes, reaching for the sink, while he muttered “Bullied, I’m telling you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning against the wall, listening to them bicker. You half turned around, hearing the faint voices of Reed fighting for his life under the supervision of your very serious son, and your smile grew. Then, your eyes landed on the calendar taped on the wall close to Leo’s door, low enough for him to reach. A red crayon circle marked next Saturday, “Debate with Franklin.” You shook your head, laughing under your breath. 

You then padded to the front of the house, the floorboards faintly creaking under your bare feet, as you stopped by the wide window. You opened it, letting the crisp autumn breeze sweep in and kiss your skin. Your eyes went to the golden leaves sprawled across the glistening grass of your garden, to the sun shining down Leo’s bike next to the porch, to the basketball hoop Johnny was hoping to install with Ben laying beside the garage. The voices of your home filled the background, and for a moment, you just stood there, breathing it all in.

Some nights your past still caught you off guard, but you trusted the arms that held you, because you didn’t have to face it alone now. Your fiancé became the voice that soothed you every night, and the love that chose you, every single day. Your hand went instinctively to your belly, to a secret you found out just that morning, but one you wouldn't have to keep hidden like you did last time. You’d share it that same night.

That’s when deep inside you, beneath every scar and ache, beneath the small heartbeat you carried inside, bloomed a quiet certainty. 

That the pain wouldn’t be for evermore.

Little extras.