Chapter Text
Part 21 - Baby Franklin
The Baxter Building was quiet this early morning. Sunlight slipped through the tall windows in pale stripes, dust motes floating slowly.
Johnny Storm was sitting on the floor of the living area, legs crossed, one sock half-off, a plush mobile planet wobbling gently in his hand, playing with his nephew Franklin, now 9 months old.
“Okay,” he whispered seriously, holding up a tiny stuffed Saturn. “This one? Totally overrated. Rings are doing all the work.”
Franklin Richards sat on a soft blanket, small fists waving with all the confidence of someone who newly learned how to sit on his own. His blue eyes tracked Johnny’s movements with intense concentration.
Johnny grinned, lowering himself closer. “You, on the other hand? Absolute prodigy. Only months old and already judging planetary aesthetics.”
Franklin responded by gurgling, and then, very faintly, the air shimmered.
Johnny froze.
“…Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “Let’s not bend reality before breakfast, yeah?”
The shimmer faded. Franklin yawned, one tiny hand stretching as if nothing at all unusual had happened.
Johnny let out a careful breath and laughed under his breath. “Uncle Johnny’s got you. Space god or not.”
Behind them, down the hallway, Reed Richards had woken earlier than usual. Not because Franklin had cried, Sue had that shift, but because his mind simply refused to shut off. Equations, concerns, wonders stacked endlessly behind his eyes.
He walked quietly toward the living area, barefoot, hair still rumpled from sleep.
He stopped in the doorway. Johnny hadn’t noticed him yet. He was fully focused on Franklin, voice low and warm in a way Reed rarely heard from anyone else.
Johnny rolled onto his side, propping his head on his arm so he was eye-level with the baby. “You know,” he said sofly, “your mom used to look at me like this. Like I was the most important thing in the room.”
Franklin blinked.
“Yeah,” Johnny smiled. “She’s good at that.”
He reached out with one finger, letting Franklin grab it.
Reed felt something tighten in his chest. Johnny, who had once been a scared fourteen-year-old with bruises he tried to hide. Johnny who pushed limits, burned bright, crashed hard. Johnny who Reed had helped patch up physically and emotionally more times than he could count. Johnny, holding his son like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Reed swallowed.
He took a step forward. The floor creaked faintly.
Johnny looked up, startled for half a second, then relaxed immediately. “Oh. Hey. Morning, Stretch.”
“Good morning.” Reed said softly.
He came closer, crouching down beside them. Franklin turned his head, eyes widening in clear recognition. Reed’s breath hitched despite himself.
“Hi,” he whispered, like Franklin might not hear him otherwise. “There you are.”
Franklin’s response was… enthusiastic. A small pulse of energy flickered, barely visible, like heat haze, and the toy planet began to spin gently without being touched.
Johnny raised his eyebrows. “See? Totally chill. Barely warping spacetime.”
Reed huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound surprised out of him. “I’ve been monitoring those fluctuations.”
“Of course you have,” Johnny said fondly. “You monitor everything.”
Reed didn’t argue. He reached out, carefully, letting Franklin’s tiny hand curl around his finger.
The contact grounded him instantly.
For weeks now, fear had sat just beneath everything, fear of messing this up, fear of failing Sue, fear of what it meant to raise a child whose potential was already… limitless.
But watching Johnny with Franklin, steady, gentle, present, something eased in him.
“You’re up unusually early.” Reed said
Johnny shrugged. “He woke up and looked bored. It was tragic, really."
Franklin gurgled again, eyes fixed on Johnny.
“You’re really good with him,” Reed said quietly.
Johnny glanced up, surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Johnny blinked, suddenly a little embarrassed. “I mean… I just don’t want him to ever feel alone. You know?”
Reed nodded. He knew.
There was a silence then, not awkward, just full. Sunlight warmed the floor. Somewhere above them, the baxter building hummed, alive and safe. Reed sat down fully now, legs folded awkwardly.
“Sue’s still asleep,” he said. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake.”
Johnny smiled. “Guess we’re on early baby-shift.”
They watched Franklin together.
After a moment, Reed spoke again, voice lower, more vulnerable than usual. “I’ve been… scared,” he admitted. “About being a father. About whether I’ll be enough.”
Johnny turned toward him, expression softening. “Reed.”
“I know,” Reed said quickly, almost apologetic. “Statistically speaking, parental anxiety is very normal. But..”
“Reed,” Johnny repeated, gently interrupting. “You’re doing great.”
Reed let out a shaky breath. “I keep thinking about all the ways I could fail him. About the uncertain future.. ”
Johnny considered that, then smiled, a small, knowing smile. “You know… you have alrealy done this. Kinda.”
Reed looked at him.
“You helped Sue raise me,” Johnny said. “You were always there. Even when I was a mess.”
Reed’s throat tightened. “I wasn’t perfect.” he said.
Johnny laughed softly. “No kidding. But you were there.” He glanced down at Franklin. “So yeah. I’m not that worried about you being a dad.”
Reed stared at him, emotion crashing through his carefully ordered thoughts. After a long moment, he said quietly, “I suppose… if I managed to do right by you…”
Johnny grinned. “You did.”
Reed reached out, pulling Johnny into a one-armed hug, careful not to jostle Franklin in between them. Johnny stiffened for half a second, then relaxed completely, leaning in.
“Hey,” he said. “You got this.”
Reed closed his eyes. "Thank you."
Ever since finding out about Franklin’s powers, he had been on edge, terrified. Now he allowed himself to relax his shoulders a bit.
Family, wasn’t something he was starting from scratch. It was something he had been building all along.
The end. 💫💫💫