Chapter Text
Johnny groaned as he returned slowly, arduously to consciousness. And soon wished he hadn't. His body ached, throbbing painfully nearly everywhere. Especially his head.
How had he gotten here? He lay still, eyes shut tight, and tried to focus his mind enough to remember, but it was a bit difficult, which was worrying. He remembered...something about a fight against a deranged scientist who called himself....the Inventor? Yes, the Inventor.
Some things were starting to come back to him, at least.
The guy had been, well, crazy, even for a bad guy. He was...dead set on world domination. Or maybe just conquering New York. Johnny decided he couldn't remember that last point, not because he was physically incapable of remembering, but because he hadn't actually paid much attention to the man's crazed ranting. It was just so...boring? Predictable? And ultimately irrelevant, since he was gonna kick the guy's ass anyhow.
Then...yeah! He'd chased the Inventor back to his...lab, which is where he was now, he assumed? And then...in the fight, he'd...done something. There was a blast of blue light! Because he'd accidentally engulfed one of the Inventor's machines in his flames.
Well, maybe not so accidentally. The guy had pissed him off. Destroying his precious inventions was just kinda fun after that. Having a scientist for a brother-in-law and another for a best friend meant that Johnny knew all too well precisely how important these inventions were to those who created them. They represented hours if not days of toil and thought and dreams. So destroying the Inventor's was, yeah, pretty sadistic of him. But the guy had pissed him off.
Not that he could really, at the moment, remember why. That was just one of the annoying blanks in his short-term memory.
And then, after the blue light...nothing. Knocked unconscious, apparently.
How long had he been unconscious, was the real question.
He forced himself to open his eyes, which took a great deal of willpower, blinking rapidly as the far-too-bright neon lights of the lab flooded his vision. He smelled smoke. He was definitely still kind of out of it, but he knew he needed to get up. Couldn't remember why, but...there was something important...something he needed to do. Something he was forgetting.
He decided to try to sit, at least, before attempting to rise to his feet. He sat up tentatively, glad that he'd not decided to rush it when he felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness as the blood rushed from his head. He felt a sharp pain in his hands, which he was using to hold himself up, and realized he was surrounded by shards of broken glass and twisted, blackened metal.
Parts of the lab were on fire, not that he found fire very worrying. But it'd made the very loud alarms begin ringing, which didn't exactly help his headache. He ran his hand gingerly against the back of his head. There was no blood, but he should have it checked. Sigh. He'd have to have that taken care of when he got back to the Baxter Building. And Sue would be mother-henning him for days. He just hoped he didn't have a concussion.
His eyes scanned the wreckage of what had once been a sleek and shining lab. Not that you'd know that now. The place was a mess. The inventions were mostly piles of metal and broken gadgetry.
Johnny turned to his left and spotted a red boot wedged beneath some chunks of metal. Oh god. That's what he'd forgotten, he realized, feeling an overwhelming surge of panic. Peter. Peter'd been fighting alongside him, he now recalled.
Jesus. How hard had he hit his head, if he couldn't even remember that?
God. He had to check to make sure Peter was okay. "Please be alive," he whispered under his breath as he rose slowly, his body protesting vehemently against every movement, and walked over to Peter as quickly as he could.
With a great deal of effort, he managed to move away all of the debris. He knelt awkwardly next to Peter, who was worryingly, uncharacteristically still. He checked Peter's wrist to make sure he had a pulse, and sure enough he did. Johnny let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in. Peter was alive, at least, but seemingly still unconscious.
"Peter," Johnny said, slapping his face lightly. "Time to wake up."
Peter groaned unhappily as he came to. "Johnny? What the hell happened?"
"Not sure. I accidentally"--he wasn't exactly going to admit to Peter that this was all the fault of his own stupid temper, now was he?--"hit something when we were fighting and it exploded. No clue what it was. It was over there." Johnny turned away from Peter and pointed vaguely over to a corner that still blazed with uncontained fires.
Peter only half heard him. His head felt so odd. Something was definitely off about it. He couldn't quite put his finger on what. He didn't really feel any pain, which was shocking, given that he'd been unconscious a few moments ago, but there was something different about it.
"There was blue light. You were pissed. He shot me with something. I was screaming. You tried to keep the metal from hitting me. Didn't work," he mumbled distractedly.
Oh yeah! Johnny thought. That's why I got so pissed and blew up that damn machine. The guy hurt Peter.
Big mistake.
Johnny was growing increasingly worried about Peter. He was talking in a way that was frighteningly disjointed and hazy. Like he wasn't doing too well. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than Johnny thought. Or maybe that ray he'd been hit with messed up his head but good. Either way? Johnny wasn't happy right now. In fact, he was far from it.
That was the thing about Johnny. He could be childish and immature, but when push came to shove, he never turned his back on the people he loved. On his family, or his friends. He was loyal to a fault.
And Peter? Well, Peter was his best friend. He adored the guy. So now that he could see Peter was...well, not being his normal annoying self, he reacted without thinking. He simply reached out and placed his hand gently on Peter's shoulder, not even bothering to hide his concern. He really didn't like it when Peter got hurt. It...scared him. Not that he'd ever admit that to Peter.
But now he could feel the same terror that he always felt when Peter was injured winding its way through his gut, and he just couldn't hide it. "You okay?" he asked gently. "You don't sound so good."
Peter put his finger, finally, on what was different. His eyes widened in alarm. Oh god. He could feel, at the edges of his consciousness, Johnny's mind brushing against his. He could feel his touching anxiety over Peter's health, and knew, because he could feel it, so very, very vividly, the exact degree of pain Johnny was in because of the small aches and pains he was valiantly striving to ignore for Peter's sake.
He could hear what Johnny was thinking and feeling.
This was so very far outside of the realm of okay that it wasn't even funny.
He didn't think he was generally telepathic, or he'd be hearing other people's thoughts right now too, and all he heard was Johnny. No, he somehow instinctually knew that it was Johnny's mind, and Johnny's only, that he had new and very unwanted access to.
What the hell was that machine?
Oh god. A terrible thought suddenly occurred to him. What if the link went both ways?
His head shot up as he glanced over at Johnny, who was still kneeling next to him, with a great deal of trepidation. Johnny was staring at him with an expression of mixed bewilderment and annoyance.
"Yeah," Johnny confirmed, clearly as profoundly unhappy with the whole situation as Peter was. "I can feel your brain ticking away in my head, Peter. This is so weird." He hid his face in his hands. "I don't--um--I don't think I like this. I mean, you're my friend and all, Peter, but I just..."
"Don't want unlimited 24/7 access to what goes on inside my head? Can't blame you there, Storm."
Johnny looked stricken at Peter's description of their predicament. "We need to fix this. Like now."
"We should talk to Reed. Scientific genius and all. Maybe he can figure out what happened to us."
"Genius plan. Knew there was a reason I kept you around, Spidey."
Peter could feel warmth, affection, and some relief radiating from Johnny. Huh. Turns out Johnny genuinely was fond of him, then. Sometimes Peter was afraid Johnny was just humoring him.
"Holy fuck, Peter! You did not seriously think that I was, what, faking my friendship with you! We've been best friends for years."
"I know that. I just sometimes am..." He trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence.
"A very insecure person? And frustrating as hell?"
"See why I don't have many friends?"
Johnny face-palmed out of exasperation. "You are--you just--you drive me crazy, you know that? Do you really not know how great you are?"
Holy shit. He really meant that.
"Yes, I really meant that! Oh my god, Peter, is this what it's always like inside your head? Because it's already driving me crazy, and I've only been listening for like five minutes. This explains so much," he said, muttering the last part under his breath as though he were saying it to himself.
"Kind of, yeah, I guess," Peter answered sheepishly. "I have the king of all inferiority complexes. Self-loathing coming out of my ears. My mind is a dark and unhappy place. So really, you should try to listen as little as possible."
"I would if I knew how," Johnny grumbled, "but you think so loudly, Peter. Can't you...mentally whisper, or something?"
"How the hell do you mentally whisper?"
"I don't know!" Johnny protested, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You're the genius, you figure it out!"
Peter rolled his eyes at Johnny behind his mask. Which Johnny couldn't see, but could sense he was doing.
Johnny stared at him. "I don't believe you. I knew it! I knew it! You do roll your eyes at me when you're wearing your mask."
"I roll my eyes at you when I'm not wearing a mask. Everyone who's spent more than five minutes around you rolls their eyes at you. You just have that sort of personality."
Johnny's mouth dropped open in mock outrage. "Traitor! And what exactly do you mean by "that sort of personality"? Is there something wrong with my personality?" he asked indignantly.
"Oh, so much, Johnny. I could write you a list, but you'd have to give me a few weeks. It'd probably be about the length of War and Peace," Peter replied teasingly.
Off Johnny's confused look, Peter amended the last part to, "Um, a really, really long book?"
"I'm not that bad, Parker, and you know it. If I was, why would you put up with me?"
"You play video games with me."
"Ooo. Didn't think you were so shallow, Webhead."
The corner of Johnny's mouth ticked upwards slightly. He could tell, after years of practice and observation, that Peter was grinning under his mask. He really didn't mind letting Peter mock him if it meant it jolted Peter out of the worrying funk he'd been in the last few weeks. Besides, he liked bantering with Peter.
"Thanks. I appreciate you cheering me up with your terrible personality." He frowned. "...do you always do nice things like that for me without telling me?"
Johnny winced. Busted. "Oh. Um, sometimes, come to think of it."
Lie. He did it all the time. He just felt weirdly overprotective of Peter. And liked seeing him happy.
"Oh my god. You do it like all the time. You feel like you need to protect me? Why the hell do you feel that? I'm a superhero, Johnny. I can take care of myself."
Peter wasn't quite sure whether to feel indignant or very, very flattered by Johnny's secret overprotectiveness.
"Not always," Johnny said, remembering in painful detail all of the times that had not been true, with the accompanying stab of pain and sadness he got whenever he thought about Peter being injured. Peter might seem like an invulnerable superhero to everyone else, but Johnny had seen the physical and mental toll it took on him firsthand. He'd held him in his arms as he cried over a child he'd failed to save, he'd watched, distraught, as Peter whimpered because of nightmares Johnny couldn't keep at bay, he'd shut his eyes in a futile attempt to keep at bay the nausea he always felt at seeing Peter nursing the wounds he invariably accumulated as Spider-Man.
Peter was more fragile than anyone knew, and Johnny would do whatever it took to keep him safe and happy.
"You get really worried when I get hurt, don't you? Why didn't you ever tell me?" Okay, now Peter's heart was melting. Just a little.
"Would it have made you stop," Johnny asked, with a slightly mournful look on his face, "or even be more careful?"
"No."
"Well, there's your answer."
Peter stared at him silently. He was seeing a whole new, very...interesting side of Johnny thanks to their psychic link.
"Well, I'm seeing a whole new side of you too, and it is not as flattering, believe me."
"Okay, it's just weird to have you interrupting my chain of thought like that."
"Yeah, I know. We should go find Reed."
Johnny rose swiftly and offered Peter his hand.
"Yes," Peter said, grabbing Johnny's hand and standing up with his help. "We should."
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They found Reed sitting in his lab, working on one of his very important, top secret projects. But he dropped what he was doing the moment he saw the looks on their faces, the state of Johnny's slightly bloody hands, Peter twisting his mask agitatedly in his hands.
"What's going on, you two?" he asked, concern evident on his face. "Something wrong? Johnny, you should have your hands looked at," he added in his most authoritative voice.
"Just some tiny cuts, Reed. It's not a big deal. Our heads, now that's a big deal."
Reed frowned, confused. "Your heads appear to be fine, Johnny. What's the matter with them?"
"Oh, nothing," Johnny remarked sarcastically. "I just seem to have a bad case of Spidey-on-the-brain."
Reed stared at them blankly, not understanding. "What?"
"What Johnny is trying to say," Peter clarified, shooting Johnny an exasperated look that was tinged, nonetheless, with a great deal of fondness, "in typical Johnny fashion, is that he and I seem to be...telepathically linked. I can hear what he's thinking, Reed. Make it stop."
Johnny nodded enthusiastically, arms folded, leaning casually back on one of Reed's lab tables. "Yes! I agree. You should make it stop."
"You're...telepathically linked?" Reed said, covering up his mouth to hide a smile and struggling not to laugh. "That's, um, terrible. How did--how exactly did this happen?"
From their irritated, high-speed responses, Reed was able to gather that there'd been a supervillain scientist, a lab, an explosion, and they'd just woken up like this and now wanted it to stop.
The urge to laugh was growing stronger. Only Johnny and Peter could get themselves into this sort of scrape. It was remarkable, really, how often these sorts of truly absurd accidents seemed to befall them.
"Have you told Sue and Ben about this? I feel that it's important for them to be aware of this. For purposes of team safety," Reed asserted, sense of amusement having dissipated not even slightly.
"Oh, shut up, Reed!" Johnny snarled, patience wearing thin. "You just think this is funny, for some bizarre reason, because it so isn't, and want to give them the chance to laugh at us too."
Peter gasped, and clapped his hands to his mouth, pretending to be shocked. "Why, Reed Richards, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd mysteriously developed a sense of humor. Maybe you're the one who needs to have his head examined. Either that or the real you has been abducted and replaced with a duplicate with a sense of humor. Which can happen, you know."
"No, I really think they need to hear about this," Reed replied, undeterred. "It could legitimately affect team performance."
Peter reached out and touched Johnny's mind. He's totally still messing with us, right? he asked Johnny telepathically.
Johnny shrugged. I don't know. Maybe like half messing, half serious.
Peter turned to Reed. "Could you maybe see if you can fix us first and then we can tell them if you can't?"
"I suppose, if I must." He squinted curiously at them. "Were you two communicating telepathically just now?"
"Well...yeah," Peter answered guiltily. "I mean we can have super secret mental conversations now. Seems a waste to not."
"You two with the ability to communicate telepathically. So no one else can hear." The thought seemed to make him feel slightly ill. "You know what? You two are absolutely correct. I should look into fixing this immediately."
"What brought this change of heart about, Reed? Afraid we'll use our newfound powers for evil?" Johnny joked.
"No," Reed answered grimly. "I'm afraid you'll use them for playing pranks."
Peter and Johnny burst into raucous laughter. "We so would do that!"
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Several hours and several tests later, Reed turned to them and said, gravely, "Boys. After looking at all of these test results...I'm just not sure what I can do. I'll consult with more experts, but I don't want to give you any false hope."
Peter and Johnny looked at each other, horror-struck. The idea that Reed Richards, one of the most brilliant people on the planet, couldn't help them hadn't really crossed their minds. They had both been certain that he'd find something and have them back to normal by the end of the day. "Um, what do--what do you mean, Reed?" Peter asked, sounding terrified.
"You have to fix us, Reed!" Johnny said plaintively. "I can't have Peter in my head all the time! I'll go insane! No offense, Peter."
"None taken, Johnny. I feel the same way about you. I love you, you're my best friend, but I don't want you in my head all the time."
"You love me?" Johnny gasped in mock surprise, clapping his hands over his heart melodramatically. "Did you just say you loved me? Reed, did you just hear what I heard? Why, Peter, I had no idea you felt that way about me!"
"I mean, in a totally straight, you're-my-friend kind of way," Peter corrected, perhaps a bit too quickly, a bit too nervously. Johnny, as always, didn't notice.
"Really?" Johnny teased, expecting Peter to join in. "'Cause I think it's in a totally gay, marry-me-and-have-my-babies kind of way."
And then things got awkward. Peter, uncharacteristically, had no answering retort. He whirled around quickly and nervously began examining one of Reed's inventions. Although his back was turned, Johnny could see that his shoulders were tense. There was a slight sense of panic emanating from him, and Johnny could feel an odd flicker of something else from Peter, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It felt almost...wistful? Sad? Longing?
What the hell? Strange. He'd be sure to quiz Peter about it later, the second he got him alone.
"...right," he said, deciding that, at the moment, it was best to change the subject as quickly as possible. "Well, Reed, why can't you do anything?"
Reed had been watching them with a knowing smirk on his face, one that he quickly tried to hide when Johnny turned his attention back to him.
"I'm afraid that this machine, whatever it was, seems to have fundamentally altered the way your brains work. I don't know if I can return them to what they were. The link is now an integral part of your brain's basic mental processes. And the brain is an infinitely complex, delicate instrument. I would hesitate to tamper with it. I think the best we can do is contact Xavier and hope he can teach you both to control your powers."
"But we don't want to control it. We want it gone."
"And I'm telling you I'm not sure I can make that happen."
"Can you at least try?"
"I suppose. But I believe that it would, ultimately, prove futile."
Johnny groaned and covered his face with his hands. "This is maybe the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
"Gee, Storm, I'm flattered," Peter deadpanned, having turned to face Reed during his explanation, listening with his lips pursed and a bitter, disappointed look on his face.
Johnny looked at Peter through the fingers that were splayed over his face. "Oh, come on. You know you feel the same way. Do you really want me knowing everything you think about everything all the time? Listening in on your dreams? And oh god, what if one of us--and let's get real, it'll probably be me--starts dating someone? That could get really awkward really fast."
Johnny could feel Peter grow suddenly tense again and perhaps even a bit panicked. OH. MY. GOD, he could hear Peter thinking, What am I going to do if he finds out about...
He cut himself off when he realized that Johnny had taken his hands away from his face and was staring at him with a curious expression on his face. "You just heard everything I was thinking, didn't you?"
Johnny nodded silently.
"And you are now plotting how to make me tell you whatever it is I don't want to tell you."
"See, this is why I like you," Johnny said, throwing an arm over Peter's shoulders and squeezing them roughly. "You're smart, and you know me so well."
Determined to finish up their business as rapidly as he could and get Peter alone somewhere so he could begin interrogating him, he turned to Reed and said, "Reed, will you at least spend some time looking into how to cure us?"
Reed sighed. "Of course, Johnny. I just don't want you--either of you--to get your hopes up. This likely will not be something I can fix."
"That's--that's fine, Reed," Johnny answered, rubbing his eyes wearily. "As long as we know we did everything we could."
"Yeah, and seriously, Reed, thank you so much," Peter added, glaring at Johnny pointedly.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks for everything." Johnny shot Peter a look. There. I thanked him. Satisfied?
Maybe when you learn some manners, Storm.
You love me the way I am and you know it.
Peter, for some reason, instantly began reciting pi in his head. Johnny stared at him, baffled. What the actual hell? Peter was being so weird. Johnny didn't know what it meant, but he was certain that he didn't like it.
They left the lab in uncomfortable silence, nodding at Reed as they left. The moment the door shut, Johnny turned to Peter and said, "You and I have to talk."
Peter sighed in frustration. "I figured this was coming."
"Yeah, I know you did. Come on. Let's go talk in my room. No one will bother us there."
Peter nodded wordlessly. He knew Johnny was going to ask him about the secret he was keeping. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to, mostly because he had no intention of telling Johnny unless it proved absolutely necessary. And he really hoped that didn't happen.
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