Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“BRUCE, I’M HERE… Can you hear me?” The girl says through her communication link—or as she likes to call it, her commlink. She tapped on her suit to let it transform to casual clothes before walking around the busy streets of New York.

“Loud and clear, Blue,” Bruce replied. “Tell me, what’s it look like over there?”

She eyed the phones and picked up on the ads plastered across Times Square. “It’s very similar to ours; the year looks to be 2007,” she said, noticing the date in the newspaper. “But the tech… It’s slightly outdated compared to ours… and it’s not just because of the year.”

She hears Bruce hum thoughtfully. “Do you think you can go somewhere familiar? Stark Tower, perhaps—if it exists.”

She shakes her head out of habit—forgetting that Bruce won't see the action. One of the articles on the magazine's front page catches her attention. “I don’t think so… but there is something that might help.”

“A FANTASTIC WEDDING: Fantastic Four’s Reed Richards and Susan Storm’s Fourth Wedding Attempt” 

“You know, you don’t have to do this, Blue,” Bruce started, concern edging his voice. Camille rolled her eyes, a small, sharp motion. Here we go again…

“This dimension… It’s not your responsibility to save it,” he added.

“I have to,” she said simply, her tone quiet but firm.

Bruce exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, Blue. How many close calls will it take for you to stop this? You’ve already saved your universe… and countless others. You don’t have to keep risking yourself.”

“And you don’t have to keep lecturing me,” she shot back, a little defensively. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, Blue,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m just worried. That’s all.”

She hesitated, letting the edge fade from her voice. “I know, Bruce. And I appreciate you helping me through this.”

She hears him sigh. “I promised Tony I would. He would’ve been so proud of you.”

Camille sucked in a breath, her chest tightening as she thought of the man they lost. The one who helped her stand on her feet during her first days as an Avenger. “I know…” she murmured, the words carrying a weight she couldn’t quite shake. Even as she focused on keeping worlds safe, part of her couldn’t escape the ache of all she had lost—and the distance she kept from the one person that continued to plague her thoughts.

SHE LOOKS UP at the tall building in front of her; Baxter Building. She double-checked with the newspaper in her hands to confirm that she was indeed in the right place. She walks up to a secluded alley, imagining the balcony of the building based on one of the paparazzi pictures in the paper she bought.

The blue portal bloomed beside her, light spilling over the balcony rail. Camille stepped through without hesitation, boots meeting concrete as the circle of light sealed shut behind her. She leaned against the edge, scanning the streets below, until the faint creak of a door pulled her around.

Her breath caught. For a moment, she thought she was staring at a ghost. Same build, same blue eyes, same playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Her heart lurches in her chest, as her emotions try to keep up with years worth of memories flashing before her. Early mornings in Brooklyn, long walks around the compound, gentle smiles and kisses. Her vision blurs, hands shaking as she clenched her fingers together.

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” the man drawled. His voice carried the same lazy confidence, and it hit her harder than she expected. She could almost imagine him back in their apartment, standing by their hallway as she just came home from work.

Her lips parted before she could stop herself. “Steve?” The name escaped in a soft whisper. Disbelief and confusion lacing her hopeful voice.

But the flash of confusion on his face snapped her back. She lets out a breath, jaw tightening while the illusion breaks. She straightened her posture as she forced her voice to steady. “Hi… Is this where the Fantastic Four live?”

“The one and only,” he answered, grin widening. Her heart skips a beat.

“Are they here?” she asked.

He cocked his head, teasing. “What, no introduction first? Seems rude.”

Heat flushed her cheeks, though she laughed it off. “Fair point.” She stepped closer, hand outstretched. “Camille Foster. Astrophysicist. I’m here to talk with the Fantastic Four about the cosmic anomalies.”

He slid his hand into hers, grip warm, lingering just a second too long. “Johnny Storm. Fantastic Four Incorporated,” he said with a wink. His flirting caught her off guard, and the way it came out so easily. No blush or bashful smile. The difference made her lips quirk up in a smile.

“You popped in out of nowhere,” Johnny added, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “How’d you do that?”

“Oh! Um… it’s something I can do,” she answered as she lifted her hand and curled her fingers—a small portal blooming in midair. She slid her arm through and tapped his shoulder from the portal behind him. Johnny jerked, then whipped around to gape at the trick.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, eyes lighting up like a kid at Christmas. He stuck his hand through, laughing out loud when it appeared on the other side. Pulling it back, he turned the hand over in amazement. Camille watches him with a smile, enjoying his reactions and the way his whole face lit up.

“That is—holy crap—that is cool.” His grin softened as his gaze landed on her again, an intrigued spark in his eyes. “How’d you get that? What are you, exactly?”

“I’ll tell you with the others. Like I said I’m an astrophysicist.” She folded her arms, smiling at his disbelief. 

Johnny huffed a laugh, regaining his swagger as he leaned against the doorframe. “Well, Reed and the other won’t be back for a few hours. Which means…” He gave her a grin that was equal parts trouble and charm. “You and me have some time to kill. How about we do something fun while we wait?”

She quirked her eyebrow, unamused, yet her blush remained. He wasn't him. She knew that. But the fact remains that he has his face. Yet his confident and flirty demeanor, which was starkly different from him, endears him to her. 

“Not interested,” she replied, once again dismissing the thoughts in her head before quickly opening a portal behind her, and stepping through it. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Without waiting for a reply, she closed the portal. Once he was out of sight, she breathed out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Bruce had already signed off for a bit to take a nap, so she had no one to vent to right now. She sighed, pressing her closed eyes on the heel of her palms in a sorry attempt to calm her nerves.

Johnny stood flabbergasted. Amazed at her powers and also in shock at her response to his charm. He breathed out a laugh, wondering if what just happened was real. He looked around, then down the ledge to try and find her, but she was gone. Like a ghost.

JOHNNY HAD SPRAWLED himself across the living room couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his stomach as some old comedy flick played on the screen. He laughed loudly at a ridiculous stunt before cutting himself off mid-chuckle—the familiar whoosh of a blue portal flickering open filled the room. Once again, he was in awe when Camille stepped through it.

“Still not here?” she asked, looking around at the empty living room.

“Nope,” said Johnny, popping out the ‘p’.

She settled herself down on the couch next to him. Surprising Johnny for a bit before offering her some popcorn. She takes some and pops them in her mouth. She makes a point of not looking at him as her eyes followed the screen, and before long, she was laughing softly at the same moment he was.

It took a few more minutes when the elevator opened, and the other three members of the Fantastic Four were finally home. Once they walked further into the living room, they saw Johnny and an unfamiliar girl.

“Johnny! I told you not on the couch!” Sue scolds, her voice ringing throughout the room. Camille arched an amused brow at Johnny, who only gave a helpless shrug like, See what I deal with?

She stood up, revealing that she was fully clothed as she turned to the three. “I assure you nothing of that sort happened,” she said as she walked closer to them. “You must be Susan Storm. Congrats on the upcoming wedding.”

Sue looked up at her, confused. “... Thank you.”

“And you must be Reed Richards and  Ben Grimm,” she said, turning to the other two, who looked just as confused. “My name is Camille Foster.”

“Wh-why are you here?”  Reed asked.

“She’s an astrophysicist!” Johnny called out lazily from the couch, earning an eye roll from Sue.

“I am here to talk to you about the anomalies happening around the Earth, Dr. Richards,” she replied, ignoring Johnny. 

“O-okay… Why me?” he furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Why not?” she retorted, tilting her head to the side. “You have one of the most brilliant minds in the whole multiverse."

Reed faltered at the praise, uncharacteristically silent. Sue glanced between them before interjecting, “Multiverse?”

Ben let out a dry laugh. “That’s a little much, even for Reed.”

Camille only shook her head. “It’s true. I’ve seen it.”

This seemed to take Reed back into the conversation as he asked, “What do you mean?”

At this point, everyone’s attention was on the girl, even Johnny, who had paused the movie to listen.

Camille sighed. “My name is Camille Foster, an astrophysicist from Earth-199999.”

Reed’s eyes widened. “What?”

“The multiverse,” she said evenly, her tone controlled but deliberate—like she was gauging the room’s willingness to accept it. Some universes were already aware of it, and even travelled through it, but others don’t which takes a few convincing. “Surely you’ve heard of it.”

“I have,” he answered. “I just… didn’t think it was possible.”

Camille smiled, hopeful. “Well, you’re in for a wild ride, Doc.”

Ben folded his arms, glaring. “C’mon, Reed, You don’t actually believe this, right? Kid, I don’t know how you got in here, but take your stories elsewhere.” He jerked his thumb toward the elevator.

“I understand why you’re so skeptical, Mr. Grimm, but I assure you, what I tell you is the truth,” she tried to reason with him.

“Oh! Show him your portal trick!” Johnny says, kneeling on the couch as he watches.

“Portal trick? What are you talking about, Johnny?” Sue asked.

“Right, almost forgot.” Camille muttered under her breath, conjuring a portal beside her before putting her hand through and taking the bowl of popcorn from across the room. The others gaped at her as she closed the portal and took a piece of popcorn.

“Cool, right?” Johnny said, looking far too delighted.

Ben shook his head, still stubborn. “Neat party trick. Doesn’t prove a damn thing.”

“Right,” Camille said, conjuring a portal again to return the bowl of popcorn. “Let me be clearer then.” She tapped her clothes, and they watched in amazement as her casual clothes transformed into her suit.

“Nanotechnology?” Reed asked in disbelief. 

Camille smirked and nodded. With a swipe of her hand, she conjured projections to fill the room—images of her universe. Mostly the Avengers, pictures of them standing amid the Battle of New York, against Ultron’s army, as well as Stark’s tower gleaming in the distance.

“This is my universe,” she began, “what we call Earth-199999. Yours is Earth-121698, at least according to the records from Earth-616. In my world, we have the Avengers—Earth’s Mightiest Heroes—our answer to your Fantastic Four. Years ago, we faced a cosmic threat named Thanos, a mad titan who succeeded in wiping out half the population of our universe.” With a flick of her wrist, the images shifted aside, replaced by a miniature projection of Thanos and his army. Even at a reduced scale, the overwhelming size and force of it were impossible to ignore.

“It took us five years to undo the damage. We managed to bring back everyone we lost, but not without a cost. Since then, we’ve made it our mission to keep watch for threats like these—and to lend a hand to any universe that might face them. So they don’t get to experience the loss we had.” Her gaze lingered on the image of the original six Avengers, pausing on Steve Rogers. The memory, which felt so distant before, became a forefront in her mind. With a faint breath, she let the projection fade, then turned back to the four.

“That’s why I’m here. To investigate the anomalies or cosmic influxes appearing in your world. I’m hoping they’re nothing more than natural disturbances… but we can’t afford to take chances.” The four remained quiet as Camille continued to speak. “I understand you may remain skeptical of my intentions, but I assure you I am only here to help.”

“Fascinating,” Reed said after a moment, “the multiverse… It’s real.”

“Indeed, Dr. Richards,” she replied.

“B-but how are you here? How are you able to withstand traveling from universe to universe?” He asked curiously.

“My powers,” she answered simply. “They originated from one of the Infinity Stones.”

Her eyes glowed as she summoned a new projection, six radiant gems appearing in the air before them.

“The Infinity Stones were born from a cosmic being that existed before the universe itself. Every universe has its own set, but their full power can only be wielded within their native reality. Each one embodies a fundamental force of existence.” As she spoke, each gem flared to life in turn: “The Power Stone. The Mind Stone. The Soul Stone. The Time Stone. The Space Stone. And the Reality Stone.”

The chamber shimmered with shifting colors as the stones illuminated one by one, their combined light casting an otherworldly glow across the room.

“A few years ago, my sister and I came into contact with the Reality Stone during an excursion in Norway. The stone bonded with us, and we were taken to Asgard to have it flushed out. But… traces of it remained in my DNA.” A projection of Asgard shimmered into view before fading at the wave of her hand. 

“Since then, I’ve been able to bend reality in small ways. Portals—” she opened one behind her, stepping through only to reappear by the television, “—illusions—” a flick of her finger transformed the living room into Tony’s lab in Avengers Tower before snapping back to normal, “—and even altering matter itself.”

She plucked a piece of popcorn from the bowl, holding it up for the four to see. With a subtle twist of her hand, the kernel reshaped into a gleaming red cherry. Turning to Johnny, who sat closest, she extended it toward him with a sly smile.

“Go on. Try it.”

Johnny cautiously takes it, maintaining eye contact with Camille, and pops it into his mouth despite Sue’s protests. The sweetness bursts, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes at the flavour.

“It’s sweet!” he exclaims, opening his eyes to look at the others. Sue glared at him while Reed and Ben watched with wide eyes. Camille shoots him a smile, and he smirks.

“Because of the stone, I can move between realities without any side effects. As for getting back, we have a portal in my dimension… and I have this.” She raised her wrist, unclasping the sleek bracelet to reveal a compact, glowing core. “An arc reactor. It gives me the energy I need to make the return trip and also serves as an anchor to keep me connected to my own universe. A sustainable power source, designed by one of the most brilliant minds in my world.”

Reed suddenly makes his way to her, holding on to her arm to get a close look at the arc reactor. “Interesting, it harnesses the thermonuclear coalescence of hydrogen isotopes, initiating a high-energy fusion sequence that transmutes them into helium nuclei while liberating immense quantities of exothermic energy.”

“Huh?” said Ben.

“It utilizes the fusion of hydrogen isotopes to produce helium and energy.” Sue simplifies.

“Kinda like how stars generate power?” Johnny chimed in.

“Exactly.” Camille’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise as she gave him a small smile. “Guess you’re more than just a pretty face, then.”

Johnny smirked. “I can show you what else I’m made of.”

She rolled her eyes, amused but unimpressed, brushing off his flirting with a playful shake of her head.

“The core… what’s it made of? To be able to support this and keep it running…” Reed murmured, eyes glued to the glowing arc reactor as if it were the only thing in the room.

“It’s a new element created by the man who built it,” Camille explained evenly. “He didn’t get the chance to name it, but we call it Stark .” She clasped her hands behind her back, then added pointedly, “So, now that we have that out of the way… are you willing to help me investigate?”

Reed reluctantly tore himself away from the device. His gaze flicked to Sue, then back. “This may be intriguing…So complex and elegant …”

“Reed,” Sue scolds lightly.

“B-but I would have to decline,” he answered, turning to Sue, who gave him a relieved smile. “I have my wedding this Saturday and I would like to focus on that.”

“Oh…” Camille sighed disappointedly. “Okay.”

“Just like that?” Reed replied, baffled.

“Yeah,” she says simply, giving him a reassuring smile. “Can I use your lab, though? I need to build something real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“You can do it alone?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve built a time machine once, Reed. I’m sure a compact cosmic energy monitoring device will be a piece of cake.”

“You’ve built a time machine?” Johnny asked incredulously.

“Besides, I get it. Even heroes need to take breaks. Especially when it's something as important as a wedding.” Camille says, nodding towards Sue, who smiles in appreciation. “I’ll contact you guys if I see anything serious.”

“Thank you, Camille,” Sue speaks up, walking towards her. “Come on, I’ll show you where the lab is.”

Chapter Text

SHE GRABS A small piece of scrap metal from the desk, allowing her powers to transform it into vibranium. 

“Blue? How’s it looking?” Bruce’s voice crackled through her commlink, grounding her.

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “I found the Fantastic Four. It’s just them here—no Avengers, no one else. They can’t exactly help with the investigation, but… they’ll be there if I need them. That’s enough.”

Bruce hummed thoughtfully. “That’s good. How’s the world itself? Still the same as ours?”

“Very,” Camille said quietly. “History’s almost identical… aside from the absence of Captain America and the Avengers.” Her voice faltered, the weight pressing down. She hesitated, then added in a whisper, “Speaking of Steve, there’s… someone here who looks so much like him.”

Bruce’s tone sharpened. “What do you mean? Another variant? Someone who never went into the ice?”

“No. Not another Steve Rogers.” Her throat tightened. “It’s Johnny Storm.”

‘The flame guy?” he asked, unconvinced.

“The resemblance—it’s uncanny, Bruce. Sometimes when I look at him, it feels like it’s Steve standing there.” Her heart hammered in her chest just saying his name.

“Breathe, Blue…” Bruce’s voice softened, slow breaths sounding through the line as he tried to guide her back. “In… and out. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Camille pressed her hand against her ribs, forcing air into her lungs. “Even the variant from Earth-616 didn’t look like him. I wasn’t ready for it. The second I saw Johnny, I… I couldn’t stop myself. For a moment, it was like he was here.”

“I know, kiddo.” His tone carried a fatherly ache. “But you need to remember—he isn’t Steve. No matter how much he looks like him, he’s not your Steve.”

She gave a hollow laugh, blinking against the sting in her eyes. “I don’t even know if I’m allowed to call him mine anymore.”

Bruce was silent for a long beat, clearly unsettled by the confession. “…That’s not true. Don’t do that to yourself. No matter what anyone else says, he was yours.”

Her jaw clenched. “If he was… he wouldn’t have left.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than any cosmic anomaly she’d faced. She scrubbed her tears away roughly, forcing her vision clear.

“He’s still here, Blue.” He said, making her roll her eyes.

“I just finished calibrating the tracker,” she said briskly, masking her voice in steel. “I’ll call you once I have results.”

“Camille—”

She cut the line before he could finish, her chest tight. He only ever used her real name when he was serious. And right now… she wasn’t having any of it.

She pushed herself and her chair off the table, allowing her whole body to stretch over it. She taps the screen on, and it depicts her first destination. Her eyes were getting droopy as she stared back at the map.

“Sleepy?” A voice behind her asked, making her jump up from her chair and spin around to her intruder.

There stood Johnny Storm, in all his shirtless glory, wearing his charming grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yup, thinking of taking a nap before I go.” She replied, already halfway to a dream.

“Here?” Johnny grimaces. “Here is no place for a pretty girl to sleep.” 

She chuckled airily. “I don't really have a choice, though?”

“Yes, you do. You can sleep in my room.” He suggests smoothly, raising his eyebrows expectantly. She eyed him for a moment.

“No funny business.” She agrees, almost too quickly, and she could see his smile widen, lightly fist-bumping the air as he celebrates his small victory. Maybe it was his eyes. Who was she kidding? Of course, it was the eyes! How could she ever say no to those blue eyes? It made her weak. Steve always had that effect on her—and now Johnny too. 

Johnny’s room was surprisingly neater than she thought. His snowboards and other athletic gear were strewn on one corner of the room, but aside from that, everything was organized.

“Not what you were expecting?” Johnny asked from behind her. Camille turned to him with a smile.

“You’re full of surprises, Storm,” she remarks. Just as he was about to open his mouth for another flirty reply, she says, “Do you know where the bathroom is? I wanna shower before I sleep.”

He eyed her for a moment before he nodded his head, walking across the hall with Camille following close by, before stopping at a door. “Here it is.”

She nodded her head before going inside. The bathroom was very reminiscent of the ones she had in their apartment back on her dimension. Very simple. She turned to Johnny, who was leaning on the doorframe and already looking at her. She tilts her head to the side in question.

“Do you need any company while you’re in here?” he says. She should’ve seen that coming, honestly. A ghost of a smile on her lips. His confidence and humour worming its way to her good graces.

She paused, looking pensively for a moment before shaking her head. “Nope, I think I’m good,” she says before slamming the door in his face and locking it. And when she turned to the mirror, her smile broke free—soft, unguarded, and far too telling.

She taps her suit, watching it dissolve into the bracelet on her wrist. She takes it off and puts it down on the sink.

“FRIDAY, you there?’ she asked as she stepped into the shower.

“I’m here, Miss Foster,” the AI replied.

“Play ‘Shower Playlist’,” she says. On cue, ‘Not my Energy’ by IV of Spades blares around the bathroom. 

‘What song is this?” she hears Johnny ask from the other side of the door. She breathed out a quiet chuckle.

“Soundproof room, FRIDAY,” she says, and she could vaguely hear Johnny protest.

“As you wish, ma’am.” A ray of light scans the room and enforces the walls, and Camille continues with her shower. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess that she tried to untangle. Her conversation with Bruce did nothing to prevent her thoughts from spiralling. The heartbreak she felt all those months ago was coming back to her like a tidal wave.

Steve Rogers. Johnny Storm.

Two very different people who bear the same face. 

She knows they are different. Yet some broken part of her clings to the image of Steve like an oath. A promise broken by his very hand that a part of her adamantly holds on to. No matter how far away she runs from it, no matter how many universes she escapes to, she finds herself back to him. It had been so long since she’d let herself think of him. After countless jumps between countless worlds, she had become skilled at the art of distraction. But seeing Johnny’s face had unraveled all of it in an instant.

Her chest tightened. She tilted her head back, letting the water stream over her cheeks. It felt like rain, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself pretend it was. She always loved the rain—how it seemed to wash everything away. But now, it carried away more than soap: it carried the tears she hadn’t even realized had fallen. 

She turns the shower off before manipulating the drops of water on her skin to disappear. She takes the bracelet and puts it on.

“FRIDAY, end the soundproofing.”

The hum faded, the walls returning to normal.

Camille tapped the bracelet, and the sleek tech unfolded over her arms before reshaping into soft pajamas: loose pants and an oversized shirt. The shirt’s design wasn’t random—its cut, its feel—an echo of one of Steve’s. Something to remember my own world by.

She opens the door to see Johnny standing there with a pile of clothes in his hands. He sighed in relief once he saw her.

“Oh, thank god, I thought you were gone,” he says, his shoulders relaxing. He also wore a tank top now. He caught her staring and smirked. “Hey! No funny business, remember?

“You thought I left?” she asked in amusement, ignoring his teasing. A warm feeling blooming in her chest.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t turn the bathroom into a freakin’ soundproof vault, I’d know you were still in there,” he remarks sarcastically. “Plus, you can teleport, so you can’t really blame me for thinking that.”

Camille rolls her eyes. “What’s that you have there?’ she asked, gesturing to the clothes.

“Oh, these are some of my old clothes. I thought you might need them, but hey, looks like you’re all set after all,” he says, looking down at her outfit.

“Eyes up here, Storm,” she scolds.

“Sorry, sorry…” he apologized insincerely. 

She gives him a look. “Give me the clothes.”

Johnny raised his brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t want you wasting your oh-so-precious effort picking them out.” She took the stack from his hands, catching the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Be back in a minute.” With that, she shut the door again.

Her bracelet shimmered as the tech peeled the borrowed pajamas away, folding them back into itself. She pulled on Johnny’s clothes instead—nearly identical to what she had been wearing before, but… somehow different. Somehow louder. Somehow more Johnny. She looked at herself in the mirror, smiling softly at the clothes. His unexpected thoughtfulness was so sweet. She feels her heart quicken at the gesture.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he smirks once she gets out, obviously checking her out. Heat warms her cheeks as she turns to look away. “Man, I’ll never get used to seeing someone walk out of the bathroom looking completely dry. It’s kinda cheating.”

Camille rolled her eyes as she walked beside him. “It’s called efficiency. You should try it sometime.”

“Nah, I like my showers the old-fashioned way. Steam, music, taking up way too much time.” He glanced at her. “Bet you don’t even wrinkle.”

“Perks of manipulating reality,” she deadpanned. 

“Where are your clothes from before?” He asked.

She lifts her wrist with her bracelet and shakes it, “right here.”

“Nanotech, right?”

She nods her head as they begin to walk back to his room. Their arms touching slightly at each step. The two of them not making any effort to pull back.

“Does it clean itself?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Yup, FRIDAY does it while it's in its bracelet. It only takes a second.” she explained with pride. Thinking of the moments she spent with Tony in refining the tech.

“FRIDAY? You said that earlier, too. Is that some kinda secret AI sidekick?” he looked at her with furrowed brows. For a moment, a flash of the past ghosts over her eyes, but she shakes it off.

The ends of her lips quirk up to a smile at his words. “I wouldn’t really call her my sidekick, but yeah, it’s the AI embedded in my bracelet. It stands for Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth. Which is a mouthful, honestly.”

“Tell me about it—sounds like somebody really wanted to name their fancy toy FRIDAY.” he bumped his shoulder against hers, making her raise her hands in mock surrender.

“Don’t look at me, I wasn’t the one who named her,” she says defensively. “Right, FRIDAY?”

“Indeed, Miss Foster wasn’t the one who named me,” the suit replied from Camille’s bracelet.

“Is she always there?” he asked.

“Yeah, but you don’t really feel that she is. She only replies when spoken to.” she replied looking down fondly at the device. Johnny’s gaze softens.

“Interesting…” He trails off. 

They finally made it to his room. The queen-sized bed provided enough space for the two of them as they sat on each side. Now that she had a better look at his room, she could see a singular picture of him and the others on his nightstand, the four of them donning their signature blue suits. Next to his dresser was a long mirror with several posters stuck to the wall behind it.

“You thinking of making your own AI?” She asked, still looking around before settling back to Johnny.

He shook his head instantly. “That’s more Reed’s thing than mine. Pretty sure he’s already got one of those lying around anyway,” he states as he lies down on the mattress and stretches his legs out.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” she shoots back.

“So…” he starts, a teasing lilt in his voice as he eyes her, “you gonna lie down or do you sleep sitting up?”

She chuckles. “No funny business, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says in mock salute.

She eyes him suspiciously before lying down. Her hands rest on her abdomen as she looks up at the ceiling. Her body sinking in the soft mattress, the tension in her shoulders easing as she sighed.

He grinned, shifting his body to face her. “So tell me more about this world of yours. Earth-199999 or whatever. What’s a normal Tuesday like over there? Do you guys just wake up and say, ‘Hmm, wonder which alien is gonna invade today?’”

Camille laughed, shaking her had at him before turning her head to meet his gaze. “Not really but we have stopped a few of those”

“That’s insane.” He propped himself up on his elbow, staring at her. “And you were one of them? An Avenger?”

Her expression flickered at that word. “Yeah. For a while. I spent most of the time with my sister though but I helped on the big missions.”

Johnny’s brows shot up. “No kidding. So who’s your roster? Big names only, c’mon. Feed my ego. Was there a version of me in your team?”

She actually chuckled, reminiscing fondly. “No. But there is a guy who thinks he’s funnier than he really is.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest like she’d shot him. “You wound me!”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “You’ll live.”

“So… big missions… that’s gotta be difficult.” he lets out a breath. “But you guys always pull through, right?”

A shadow seemed to cast over her eyes as her gaze turned somber. “We did save the world. Several times.” Her voice softened without her meaning to. “But there were… costs.”

For a moment, Johnny studied her face, catching the shadow in her eyes. “…That’s why you came here, isn’t it? Chasing down those cosmic threats?”

She gave him a small nod. “It’s easier to focus on the work than think about what I left behind.”

Johnny tilted his head in question but doesn’t voice it, instead a gentle grin settles on his lips. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me. Best distraction money can’t buy.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. The shadow seemed to dissipate from her eyes and he couldn’t help but smile wider. “You really think that highly of yourself?”

“Sweetheart,” he said, lying back down with a smirk, “if I don’t, who will?” Johnny turned his head on the pillow, studying her profile. “So, in your world… was there someone who kept you in check? You know, made sure you didn’t bend reality a little too far?”

Camille smirked faintly. “There was always someone keeping an eye on me.” her tone then shifts into something softer, longing. “As well as someone who reminded me why we were fighting in the first place.”

He caught the shift in her tone but didn’t push. The question in his mind growing steadily. “Must’ve been some guy.”

Her lips curved, but there was no humor in them. “He was… steady. Stubborn. Always believed in doing the right thing, even when it hurt.” She exhaled, turning her head back up as her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “He made everyone around him better just by being there.”

He pursed his lips. “Sounds like a real saint. I don’t know if I’d get along with him.”

“You wouldn’t have.” She finally glanced at him, the faintest smile tugging at her mouth. “He’d have lectured you every five minutes.”

“Hey, I can handle a lecture. I’ve had Sue as my sister my whole life.” Johnny grinned, then paused, noticing the way her gaze drifted away again. “But… you miss him.”

Camille’s throat tightened. She rolled onto her side, turning her back to him. “I don’t have the luxury of missing people, Johnny. Not when there are universes out there who need help.”

For once, he didn’t crack a joke. He just lay there, watching the curve of her shoulders tense. “…Still sounds like he was lucky to have you.”

Camille let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Lucky? No. I don’t think he thought that.” Her eyes hardened, fixed on some distant point on the ceiling. 

Silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken. Johnny studied her quietly, his usual smirk gone. Then, without a word, he shifted a little closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Close enough that she could feel his warmth at her side.

“What are you doing?” she asked, lifting an accusing brow.

“Relax, Camille. No funny business, remember? I’m only here to give you a hug. You look like you need it.” His smirk curved as he turned onto his side to face her. “Unless…” he arched a brow suggestively, “…you’re saying you actually want to?”

She let out a soft chuckle, her shoulders easing as she moved toward him and let him wrap an arm around her as she leaned her forehead to his chest. The sound of his calm heartbeat easing the tension and she tilts her head to look up at him. There was a gentleness in her eyes now, layered with something deeper. “You just… remind me of someone.”

Johnny blinked. “Not your brother, right? ‘Cause that’d be awkward.”

Camille grinned despite herself, shaking her head as they break away from each other. “No, don’t worry.” Her smile faded into something softer as her gaze lingered on him. The flecks of green in his deep blue eyes pulled her in—so painfully close to Steve’s.

Her stare unsettled him, not because it was cold but because it was full of something he couldn’t name. Something warm and undecipherable. The dark chocolate hues of her eyes, pulling him in. A part of him desperately wanting to uncover what lay beneath them. What was causing the pain and the longing in her stare? The fondness, mixed with bitter coldness etched in her tone.

“Camille…” he whispered, leaning in ever so slightly. His heart thudded in his chest when she didn’t pull away, when her gaze stayed locked on his.

For a breathless second, it felt like she might close the gap between them.

“You’re dangerous, Storm,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her gaze lingered on his, too steady, too telling.

Johnny’s smirk curved, softer this time. “Danger’s my middle name,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath brushing against her cheek.

For a heartbeat, the pull between them was undeniable. His warmth, her pulse, the charged silence.

But then the haze in her eyes cracked. She blinked hard, retreating back into herself, and turned her head toward the ceiling.

The shift hit him like cold water. Johnny froze, retreating just enough for the air to cool between them. The moment dissolved, leaving only the faint hum of tension, sharp and unspoken.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, forcing a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess I got carried away.”

Camille turned back, offering a small, tight smile. Conflicted. Guarded. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. The words landed like a door shutting in his face.

She cleared her throat, voice low. “We should probably sleep.”

He let out a slow breath, settling back against the mattress. “Goodnight, Camille.”

“Goodnight, Johnny.” She shifted away, her back to him now, while Johnny stared up at the ceiling — the ghost of her gaze still burning in his mind.

It’s fine.

No, it wasn’t. He could tell. She’d said it like someone putting up a wall and daring him to try to climb it.

He dragged a hand through his hair with a sigh. He wasn’t exactly subtle—never had been—but he knew when a door was slammed in his face. And yet… it wasn’t rejection that stung the most. It was the look in her eyes before she shut down. The softness. The way she had stared at him like he was both someone she wanted close and someone she couldn’t bear to touch.

Johnny wasn’t dumb. He’d seen that look before… in people who had lost something they couldn’t get back. She wasn’t pushing him away because of him. She was haunted by something else. Someone else.

He rolled onto his side, watching the back of her head. She breathed evenly, like she was already halfway to sleep, but he doubted it. Not with that storm she carried behind her eyes. He shifted onto his back again, letting the silence settle. Sleep didn’t come easily. His chest was too tight, his thoughts too restless but he kept them to himself. Letting it swallow him as sleep came.

Chapter Text

THE NEXT DAY, Johnny woke up to an empty bed. His arm sprawled to the side where she had been the night before. Her warmth still radiated from the sheets under his skin, indicating that she had just left. The clothes he had given her were folded neatly on his nightstand, along with a note and, surprisingly, a small bowl of cherries.

He opens the note first. Her cursive handwriting swam against the paper elegantly.

Good morning Johnny,

Sorry for leaving without saying anything. You looked so peaceful, and I

didn’t want to wake you. Hopefully, the cherries will be enough of an

apology. Don’t worry, I made them from the leftover popcorn in the fridge. 

Thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon. 

In the meantime, take care of yourself. :)

Sincerely, Camille

PS: did you know you snore in your sleep? Don't worry it was kinda cute.

The more he read the note, the more his grin softened into something else. Something quieter. She didn’t owe him a thank you. She didn’t owe him anything. Yet here she was, leaving cherries and apologies like they were close. Maybe they were.

Then his eyes hit the P.S. and his head jerked back.

“Snore? I don’t snore!” he said indignantly to the empty room, but even as he said it, he caught himself smiling again. For all her walls, Camille was letting little pieces of herself slip through the cracks. Notes. Jokes. Food that may or may not be safe to eat. And the worst part?

He liked it.

He smiled to himself, twirling the note in his fingertips before tucking it safely inside his drawer. A keepsake, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. He grabbed one of the cherries, tossing it into his mouth as the sweetness burst across his tongue.

“Damn,” he muttered, grabbing the bowl and carrying it with him down the hall. Another cherry, then another, until the bowl was already half-gone by the time he reached the dining room. He fished out a Post-it, scribbled in bold letters “Johnny’s. DON’T TOUCH”, and slapped it onto the side before stashing the bowl in the fridge.

The ring of the phone cut through the silence, and Johnny snagged it up.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Storm, good morning. This is Ernie from the desk. I’ve got a package here addressed to the Fantastic Four.”

Johnny perked up immediately. “Ernie, my guy. I’ll be right down.”

The package turned out to be their new suits—sleek, durable, branded up with the logos of half the companies in New York City. Johnny thought they looked awesome. Sue, on the other hand… not so much.

She barely glanced at hers before groaning and walking out. “Absolutely not.”

“What do you have against capitalism?” Johnny had shouted after her, earning himself a very unimpressed glare.

He still thought they looked cool. And hey, they were getting paid for saving lives—nothing wrong with that. But it did make him wonder about Camille. Did the Avengers back in her world have sponsors? She didn’t have any logos on her suit, but the tech she carried around was state-of-the-art, nothing like what they had here. Someone had to be footing the bill. 

The days that followed blurred together—wedding errands, Reed vanishing into his lab only to resurface for food, Sue juggling florists and caterers, Ben getting dragged into tux fittings, and Johnny trying (and failing) to plan a bachelor party that didn’t get vetoed. Somewhere in there, the military showed up.

Johnny didn’t care. For once, he was content to ride the wave. Because finally, after all the chaos, the day of the wedding arrived.

The day of the wedding came like the eye of a hurricane—eerily calm after weeks of chaos.

The Baxter Building’s rooftop had been transformed into a perfect bridal postcard: rows of white chairs, floral arches, and a sweeping skyline that seemed to smile on the occasion. For once, no reporters were swarming the venue, and no military brass were demanding meetings.

Reed was in a tailored suit, and Sue, radiant in her gown, was ready to glide down the aisle to the sound of soft strings and the hushed awe of the guests. Johnny, for once, was on his best behavior—though Ben swore he saw him slip a wink to one of the guests.

Halfway around the world, under the relentless Egyptian sun, Camille crouched among the hot sands of the desert. Her mind was a bit hazy from the long-distance travel she had just done, and it might take a while for her to teleport again. The compact monitoring device was going haywire as she neared the site of the snowy fields. The air, which once shimmered in the heat, now felt shockingly cold, but the sensation running up her spine wasn’t from the temperature.

She adjusted the visor clipped over her eyes, scanning the screen. Energy readings spiked, jagged and unstable—identical to the influxes she had detected in Japan and several other places. The map on the corner blinked sporadically in alert. Once she clicked on it, the image of a globe spun at the center of the device before stopping at the newest coordinates of the anomaly.

“Too many hotspots,” she muttered to herself. “Egypt, Los Angeles, the Pacific… something’s moving fast, and it’s not random.”

The familiar location made her eyes widen, and her hands instantly went to call the communication device she had left for Reed. 

“Reed? Can you hear me? It’s Camille. Please answer. The thing that’s causing the anomalies is heading right towards you. Hello? Is anyone there?”

Static answered her. She frowned. Her energy was still too low for another portal of that distance. For now, the Fantastic Four is on their own.

Back in New York, before the ceremony could actually kick off, a loud beeping noise suddenly roared from inside Reed’s suit. The man fumbled for it, his eyes growing in alarm as Ben shoved his shoulder lightly.

“Reed, would you shut that cellphone off!” he exclaimed, glaring at the man as Sue and Johnny walked down the aisle. The beeping continued, softly this time, as Reed tried to muffle the noise, but his mind kept thinking about it even when Sue finally reached him.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to—” the priest was cut off by the loud sound of helicopter propellers that emerged from the side of the building. Everyone looked to the side to see a news chopper filming the wedding live.

“Congratulations on the wedding!” one of the men inside said, the loudspeaker magnifying his voice, causing a few of the guests to wince. The couple only laughed it off as the priest tried again. 

He didn’t even make it to the next sentence as another disturbance interrupts him again. This time, with the incessant beeping of the device inside Reed’s suit, which was evidently louder and faster in urgency.

“I can’t believe you brought that to our wedding!” Sue says in disbelief, watching Reed tinkering with the device.

“I know,” Reed replies apologetically. “But there’s a good reason,” he looked down at the device, a notification glaring at the top of the screen, and he accidentally clicked on it.

“Storm? Richards? Can anyone hear me?” 

“Camille?” Johnny whispered under his breath, leaning forward a bit toward the device.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Whatever is causing the anomalies is heading to Baxter Building right now.”

As if on cue, the propellers of the helicopter flying overhead began to lose control, and the people inside it began yelling in panic as the helicopter began to fall towards the rooftop and the guests. Screams cut through the air. The once peaceful and beautiful wedding venue was now torn in utter chaos. Chairs were being torn to shreds by the propellers, with parts of them flying off in different directions. The air is tense with panic and hysteria.

Sue quickly held her hands up to conjure a huge shield against the falling helicopter while the guests evacuated from the place. Reed stretched his arms out to save a few guests from the raging propellers, while Ben saved Alicia from the tail of the copter. 

A streak of silver zooms past the building.

“Johnny,” Reed says instantly.

“But this is Dolce,” he whined. Reed only gave him a pointed look as he sighed. He ran off to the side of the building, his body already heating up before he jumped. “FLAME ON!” His body lit on fire, and his weight became lighter than air as he gave chase to the silver figure.  

Meanwhile, Sue looks around her devastated wedding venue as tears form in her eyes. Another wedding foiled. She sits by the altar in despair, unable to hide her emotions as soft sniffles and sobs escape her lips.

CAMILLE KEPT TRYING to make contact with the Four while she rested. Her energy levels, although still low, were steadily increasing when an orange beam flickered in the distance—towards the still normal part of the desert. Her eyes narrow, calculating the distance before opening up a portal to it.

A tent burned nearby, smoke curling into the sky as she jogged toward it. Coughing echoed from behind the flames, and she spotted two figures hunched over someone on the ground.

She raised a hand to shade her eyes from the harsh sunlight. “Johnny?” she called, her voice cutting through the noise.

The figure on the ground groaned, lifting his head at the sound of his name. The two men stepped aside as she rushed in, dropping to her knees beside him.

“You okay?” she asked.

Johnny pushed himself up with a grunt, sand clinging to his face. His usual grin was there, but faint—more a reflex than genuine. “Been better,” he said, voice hoarse. “But hey… still breathing.”

She frowned. “You just fell out of the sky, Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, glancing past her at the smoke and wreckage. “Didn’t exactly stick the landing this time.”

She held out her hand, and after a second, he took it. His grip felt weak, and he leaned on her more than he probably realized.

“I’m guessing you just met our extraterrestrial visitor,” she said.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “Not exactly a people person. Or a Johnny person.”

“Obviously,” she shot back. 

Johnny exhaled slowly, like he was trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. “Guess this means we’re working together,” he says, stretching until the tension in his muscles eased and his usual laidback demeanor slowly returning, “need a ride?”

“Sure,” she replied without hesitation.

He blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I just portaled here from China—I’m not doing another long-distance jump anytime soon.”

He managed a lopsided grin. “Your nanotech fireproof?”

“The guy who made it said it could handle the heat of the sun,” she replied, tapping her wrist. A helmet folded smoothly over her head.

Johnny gave a low whistle. “Good… ‘cause I’m not exactly in top form right now. So, little disclaimer, I might drop you.”

“Thanks fo the heads up.” she quipped, “or would it be better if I just walk?”

“Nah. You’d miss me too much.” Before she could respond, he swept her up in his arms—careful with his movements. “Hold on tight,” he said, his tone light but his grip firm.

“Need me to portal us up high for momentum?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck to steady both of them.

“That… yeah, that’d help,” he admitted after a beat. “You sure you’re good for it?”

“It’s just a few feet up. No biggie.” She shrugged, already opening a portal beneath them.

Johnny glanced at it, hesitating for half a second before stepping in. The rush of air hit them immediately as they fell from the sky. His shoulders tensed, and she felt the faint tremor in his arms as he leaned forward to angle their descent. Then, just before impact, he gritted out, “FLAME ON!”

Fire erupted around them, and they were now off the ground and flying through the sky. Yet his eyes kept darting down to her mid-flight. “You good? No melting? No crisping? I’m not accidentally… y’know…”

She smirked under the helmet. “You’re barely warm.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing in exaggeration. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

“Focus on the flying, Storm.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, the tension from his close encounter with the silver being dissipating as they cut across the sky toward the Baxter Building. But an inexplicable anxiety thrummed at the back of his mind. He shook his head, his hand holding on to her tighter as he focused on flying.

Chapter Text

“IT LOOKED LIKE a man, but completely covered in silver, and it flew this, like… surfboard-type thing. I know that sounds crazy.” Johnny explained, still a bit shaken, his hands moving in wide arcs as though sketching the figure out of thin air.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Ben deadpanned. “Did you follow the shiny man to Lollipop Land or the Rainbow Junction?”

“I know what I saw,” Johnny shot back defensively, sitting up straighter. His gaze slid toward Camille, who was now wearing a lab coat over her plain blue shirt tucked into her black trousers. “You believe me, right?”

Her pensive expression softened. She gave a small, deliberate nod.

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “Really?”

Johnny let out a quiet breath, some of the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Thank you. It's all right, Johnny,” Reed interjected, “Whatever this thing’s physical appearance is, it has the ability to convert matter and energy.”

“So it caused the anomalies?” the general asked, his voice carrying the weight of command. Camille’s jaw tensed at the sound—no matter what universe, she had never liked the government.

“Yes,” she answered calmly, and instantly all heads in the room turned toward her.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” General Hager squinted, suspicion etched across his face.

Years of spy work with Natasha had trained her well—Camille let her features relax into an effortless smile as she stepped forward. “Camille Foster, Mister General,” she said smoothly, extending her hand, “I work as an assistant for Mr. Richards. He assigned me to observe the places where the anomalies have happened.”

The general clasped her hand reluctantly, still scrutinizing her. “I believed I had asked Mr. Richards to help, but he had declined,” he said, his tone stiff with doubt.

“This is an issue that concerns the whole world, general,” she countered, her eyes narrowing just slightly.“No matter what he may have said, you didn’t think Reed Richards was someone who’d look away from a crisis, did you?”

The sarcasm in her tone drew a sharp snort from Ben, who quickly tried to cover it with a cough.

The general stiffened, but before the standoff could spark further, Reed’s calm voice cut in. “It seems to radiate cosmic energy when it exerts itself, randomly affecting matter.”

Camille’s voice picked up where his left off, steady and confident. “Japan, China, Siberia, Giza…” She trailed off. “Each of these locations was found with craters carrying similar cosmic radiation. According to my observations, its depths go as far as the center of the earth.”

“Evidently, this entity, this… Silver Surfer didn't want to be detected. It destroyed the sensor.” Reed gestured toward the melted device smoldering faintly in the corner of the room.

Camille let out a low whistle, hands on her hips. “Hell of a warning shot.”

“It knew it was being monitored?” Sue asked, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

“And traced it back here.” Reed’s brows knit together. “We're dealing with something highly resourceful.”

Johnny, who had been sitting hunched with his hands pressed against his knees, suddenly pushed himself up. His movements were shaky, his expression pale.

“Are you feeling okay?” Camille asked, immediately crossing the room to him. She steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice strained but his eyes flicking gratefully to hers before looking away. “I just... I gotta walk this off.”

He brushed past her, heading for the door. Camille lingered for a moment, then exchanged a glance with Sue before slipping out after him.

“We must destroy it before it attacks again,” Hager declared, already turning back to Reed. “Richards, find me another way to track it.”

Camille found Johnny on the roof, surrounded by chaos. Pieces of the chairs and decorations were scattered across the floor; the archway had been reduced to splintered wood, and the once-vibrant flowers were now crushed into the cement. The wreckage of a helicopter lay twisted beside the ruined gazebo, a grim reminder of how quickly celebration had turned into disaster.

“I’m guessing it was one crazy wedding,” she said softly, her voice cutting through his thoughts.

Johnny let out a bitter scoff, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. “If you could even call it that.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, stepping closer until her shoulder brushed his. She hesitated only a second before resting a hand on his arm. The heat of him seeped through her palm, steadying her more than she’d expected. “Are you really okay? You looked pretty shaken after your run-in with the Silver Surfer.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Is that really what we’re calling him now?”

“Johnny…” she chided gently, her tone carrying more warmth than warning. “You don’t always have to play it cool, you know?”

He sighed in defeat, dragging a hand through his hair. The usual fire in his expression was dimmed, and something about that tugged at her chest. “I don’t know what the hell happened out there. One second I’m chasing him, the next—he touches me and suddenly I feel like I’m gonna come apart at the seams.”

Camille’s brows furrowed. She shifted closer, fingers curling against his arm as though to anchor him. “That would shake anyone. You went toe-to-toe with something beyond anything you’ve faced before. You’re still standing. That counts for something.”

He huffed a laugh without humor. “Standing, sure. But what if I can’t fight him next time? What if I screw up and someone gets hurt? My sister… Reed… hell, even you.”

Her lips parted, caught off guard by the way he’d included her. Heat crept into her cheeks, and her pulse stumbled. “Johnny… You went after him when no one else could. That wasn’t nothing. That was brave.”

For a fleeting moment, her gaze lingered too long on the curve of his jaw, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. She tightened her grip on his arm, a subtle plea for him to believe her.

“You’re more than the screw-up you think you are,” she whispered. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

His eyes searched hers, and the intensity of it sent a jolt through her chest. She had to look away first, though the warmth of his presence lingered stubbornly.

The sharp beep of her watch broke the moment. Camille’s hand slipped reluctantly from his arm as she glanced down at the screen. “Reed is calling me.” She hesitated, her mouth opening like she wanted to say more. Instead, she faltered, her wit abandoning her. “I’ll… I’ll see you inside.”

But as she stepped away, she risked one last look at him — longer, softer than she meant to — before forcing herself back through the door.

Johnny stayed on the roof long after Camille had gone, staring out over the wreckage of what should have been his sister’s perfect day. The laughter of guests had faded into the low hum of the city below, but he barely heard it. His mind kept circling back to the way Camille looked at him—steady, unflinching, like she wasn’t afraid to see through the act he kept up for everyone else.

Then their conversation from her last stay here, all those nights ago, flashed in his mind. The way she looked at him then. As if she didn’t see him, but someone else. He couldn’t help but think that her words of encouragement weren’t actually aimed at him. The thought gnawed at him. He replayed the way her eyes softened, the faint curve of her smile, and how it didn’t quite reach him. 

He shook the thought from his head with a dry laugh. It was easier to believe she hadn’t really seen him at all. Easier than admitting he wanted her to.

Besides, he had bigger matters to focus on now. Ever since his encounter with the Surfer, his powers hadn’t felt the same. It lingered at the back of his mind, gnawing at him, especially during the flight back to the Baxter Building with Camille in his arms. He remembered how tightly he held onto her, how he forced himself to focus harder than usual just to keep steady. Normally, flying was second nature—effortless, like stretching a muscle he’d used a thousand times before. But now? Every movement felt shaky, uncertain, as though the fire inside him wasn’t entirely his anymore.

For the first time since the accident that gave him his powers, he didn’t feel invincible. He felt… off. Like something had changed in him.

He needed to test his theory. His gaze drifted over the edge of the rooftop, the city stretching endlessly below. The height made his stomach knot, but it also gave him the perfect chance. His hand flexed at his side, heat prickling beneath his skin, begging to be let out. He inhaled slowly, the sound shaky in his throat.

“THIS IS WHY you should always cloak your devices. Especially sensors.” Camille huffs out, helping Reed dismantle the melted sensor.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we need to track extraterrestrials,” he replied tiredly.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You okay over there, doc?”

“Just tired,” he admitted with a faint, tired smile.

“Well, you did just have your wedding crashed. Not to mention the government,” she says, grumbling the last part. 

“Not a fan, I take it?” he asked lightly, though his hands stayed busy working through another panel.

Camille let out a dry laugh. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.”

“Then enlighten me.” He glanced her way briefly before returning to the mess of wires.

And so, she tells him about the Sokovia Accords. A story from her universe that shook the Avengers and tore them apart. How and why it happened.

“Sounds… constraining,” he replied.

“It was!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t there for the whole thing since I was with my sister in Asia investigating a cosmic event. Long story short, it tore the Avengers apart. To one side, it made sense; after Sokovia, which was a disaster, they felt the world needed a leash on people with our kind of power. But the other side? They saw it differently. The leader of the opposition has been through wars, governments, leaders—he knows they change, and not always for the better. To him, the Accords weren’t about accountability; they were shackles. If the government said ‘don’t go,’ even when lives were at stake, he’d have to stand down.”

She wrestled the last piece free, holding it up with a grin of victory. They both stood, heading for the kitchen.

“I can tell which side you were on,” Reed said as he opened the door for her.

“Yeah, well the other guy was very convincing,” she replied, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Did you sign it?” he asked curiously.

She gave him a sad smile, “had to. Would’ve been a fugitive if I didn’t, and I can’t really leave my sister behind. We only had each other. But I helped the other guys out whenever I could. Mostly in their escapes.”

Reed’s expression softened, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “Family first,” he said quietly, as if the words carried more weight than he intended. He adjusted the small touch screen in his hands. “I can’t fault you for that. How is she? Your sister.”

“Dead,” she deadpans, causing Reed’s eyes to bulge out like saucers. “It's fine, after she was gone, I began to do this multiverse stuff full-time.”

He nodded his head, stumbling to change the subject. “S-so this whole multiverse stuff, I really appreciate you helping us, but it doesn’t sound easy. Must’ve put you in the crosshairs more than once.”

Before she could reply, a shrill shriek from outside caught their attention, and both their eyes widened when they saw Sue. Flying. And—most concerningly—on fire.

“Sue?” Reed’s voice cracked as he rushed to the glass. “Sue! What’s going on?”

“I’m on fire!” she shouted, panicked.

“You’re on fire!” he echoed in disbelief.

“You think?” she snapped back, earning a snort from Camille despite the chaos.

“Hold on!” Reed scrambled, looking around helplessly.

“Pull me in! Help!” Sue cried before losing altitude.

Camille and Reed looked at each other before she swiftly opened up a portal to the ground floor. 

“Come on!” She called out before stepping in. He didn’t have a moment to hesitate or marvel at the portal before going through it as well. Instantly, the two of them were in the building’s lobby and dashing to the door.

They could see a crowd forming on the side and instantly went to it, pushing past people as they made it to the front.

“Sue, how did this happen?” Reed yelled through the excited crowd.

“I touched Johnny, and then—this!” Sue flailed, flames licking off her body as the crowd gasped and applauded. Camille rolled her eyes at their excitement.

“Where is Johnny?” He asked.

“Here,” a voice next to her caused Camille to jump slightly, relieved that he was okay. Reed turned to the empty space next to her.

“Try it again,” he said. She could feel Johnny’s shoulder brush past her as he went to touch Sue.

The moment his hand touched Sue, Camille’s eyes widened—her flames blinked out, leaving her completely exposed. With no time to think, Camille conjured an illusion of a blanket, wrapping it around Sue before the paparazzi could get more than a glimpse. Cameras still flashed, capturing the Invisible Woman in an embarrassing situation..

“Hey, get outta here!” Reed yelled as he shoved the photographers to the side, Camille following beside him. “Sue, your clothes.” He tells her, and Sue looks down at her naked body beneath the illusion. On instinct, she turned invisible.

“Why does this always happen to me?” she says weakly as the three of them crouch down to her.

“I’ll open a portal straight to the lab,” Camille whispered quickly.

“Thank you, Camille,” Sue whispered gratefully. She smiled at her before summoning a portal, using the blanket to hide the portal’s edges, and she was gone.

“All right, everyone, show’s over!” Johnny yelled as he stood up, waving the crowd back.

“I need to check on her,” Reed muttered, already backing away. “Keep things under control out here.”

“Yeah, sure, leave the PR nightmare to me,” Johnny drawled. His smirk didn’t falter as he glanced at the restless crowd. Reed gave a distracted nod before hurrying inside.

That left Johnny and Camille shoulder to shoulder against a sea of people who didn’t know when to quit. Phones stayed raised, paparazzi shouting questions like vultures circling.

“All right, everybody, show’s over,” Johnny called again, louder this time, clapping his hands and forcing a grin. “You got your pictures, you got your gossip—now scram. Invisible Woman will not be taking interviews today!”

The crowd didn’t budge, and both of them sighed. Usually, Johnny would have thrived on the attention, but not now. Not with his powers off-balance. Camille, meanwhile, had always hated this kind of spotlight. Even as an Avenger, she’d slipped under the radar whenever she could, letting the others take center stage (Tony).

Having had enough, Johnny set his hands ablaze, the sudden glow lighting the air between them. The crowd cheered louder, and Camille turned toward him with a ‘really?’ look — but her annoyance faltered when the fire painted his features in gold. For a moment, he looked less like a showman and more like something untouchable, brilliant in a way that made her chest tighten.

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen—Johnny Storm in the flesh!” he announced grandly. “Human Torch, here to remind you this isn’t a circus. Everyone, go home before someone gets burned. And spoiler alert—it won’t be me.”

Finally, the stragglers began to scatter, though not without more flashes and shouts. Johnny lowered his flame with a flourish, waving his hand like a magician finishing a trick.

“Let’s go before someone else decides to catch fire,” Camille muttered, tugging at his sleeve. Her hand lingered a beat too long, the warmth of his presence calming her nerves.

“Relax, we handled it. Crowd control’s my specialty,” Johnny replied with a wink. He stepped forward, parting the crowd with more force than usual — but the feel of her hand still on his sleeve steadied him more than the cheering ever could.

That was when the first voice rang out from behind the cameras.

“Johnny! Who’s the girl?”

Camille froze for half a second before ducking her head down, but the damage was already done. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she grumbled under her breath, wishing she’d gone back inside with Reed.

Another reporter shoved forward. “Is she your girlfriend? The Human Torch and his mystery date?”

The crowd rippled with laughter and shouts. Flashes popped again, this time aimed not at Sue’s incident but at Johnny and Camille’s closeness. Only then did she realize she was still gripping his sleeve, her knuckles white — and worse, to the cameras, she looked like a girl clinging to her boyfriend.

Johnny blinked, momentarily speechless. His eyes flicked to her panicked expression, and before she could step away, he straightened, grin snapping into place like armor. “Mystery date? I wish. She’s way outta my league.”

The crowd roared. “So you are together?” one paparazzo pressed, angling closer.

Camille groaned and forced herself to break the contact, shoving her hand between them in an exaggerated show of space. “Not together,” she snapped, glaring at the nearest camera. “Coworkers. That’s it.”

“Coworkers with chemistry!” another reporter teased.

Johnny leaned into it, his smirk bright as he slung an arm casually around her shoulders. Camille stiffened — then immediately betrayed herself with a flush of warmth racing across her face. His arm was solid, his nearness too distracting, and she cursed herself for noticing. Her pulse leapt, not from memory, but from the man next to her.

He bent closer, lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Well, you can’t blame them for having taste.”

Her glare wavered, the corner of her mouth twitching like it wanted to curve. She looked away quickly, heart hammering far too fast.

The crowd ate it up, headlines practically writing themselves. Johnny finally ushered her toward the Baxter Building doors, and Camille kept her eyes fixed forward. But her hand twitched once at her side, the phantom feel of his arm still lingering as much as the dread of tomorrow’s news.

Chapter Text

BACK IN THE lab, Reed had Camille take samples of both Johnny’s and Sue’s DNA to examine.

“Fascinating,” Reed whispered under his breath, peering through the microscope. “All of Sue’s results are normal, but Johnny’s…” He trailed off, pushing himself off his desk.

“Johnny’s are what?” Johnny asked, shifting restlessly on the stool.

“Your encounter with the Surfer put your molecules in a constant state of flux,” Reed said.

Johnny pressed his lips together. “Is that a bad thing?”

Camille’s eyes flicked up from the screen, where Johnny’s DNA spun in shifting patterns. He was leaning closer to get a look, one arm braced on the counter near her. The warmth of him at her shoulder made her throat go dry. She forced herself to shrug, tearing her gaze away. “So far, all we know is that it made you switch powers with Sue through physical contact. And possibly with the others too.”

Ben perked up at that, muttering something about how “that could be fun,” but Camille barely heard him. Johnny had leaned even closer now, squinting at the screen.

“Kind of freaky, huh?” he murmured under his breath, his voice for her alone. His sleeve brushed hers, and Camille’s fingers tightened on the tablet before she realized she hadn’t moved away.

“It doesn’t seem to affect Camille. Probably because of the origin of her powers,” Reed hypothesized.

Johnny glanced at her then, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Guess you’re the exception, huh?”

The way he said it—half-teasing, half-something else—made her pulse stumble. She quickly busied herself with the keyboard, hoping no one noticed the heat creeping into her face.

Just then, a faint buzz on her wrist caught everyone’s attention. She checked what it was, seeing Bruce trying to video call her. Camille sighed, more relieved than she should’ve been. “I need to take this.”

She walked past everyone without sparing them a glance, though she could feel the weight of a few worried eyes trailing after her. As she closed the door behind her, Ben’s booming laugh carried through, followed by Johnny’s exaggerated protests when he tried to poke at him.

Despite herself, Camille’s lips curved—Johnny’s voice seemed to spark something lighter in her, even now. The sound lingered a second too long in her chest before she smoothed her expression back into something serious for the call.

She sat in one of the rooms in the lab, and she took a piece of the nanotech and placed it on the table as she waited for the video to load. She leaned back against the chair, arms folded, the faint glow of the comm screen lighting her face. When the video link stabilized, Bruce’s kind, tired eyes appeared on the other side.

“Blue,” he said, voice soft with that steady calm she’d always associated with him, his green face breaking to a gentle smile that she couldn’t help but return. “You’re in one piece. That’s good news already.”

“Still breathing,” she muttered, brushing hair from her face with a tired sigh. “Bruce… It’s been… eventful,” she started, his expression scrunched into a frown. “We’ve had multiple cosmic anomalies across the globe—Japan, China, even Giza. Craters, strange energy readings… whatever’s causing them is powerful. And it’s mobile. Fast. Elusive.”

Bruce’s eyes sharpened. “Sounds like more than a natural phenomenon.”

“Exactly,” she continued. “We tracked it back to a single entity they’ve named, the Silver Surfer. One of them saw him up close. He moves on this… surfboard-like craft, manipulates matter, and generates massive energy bursts.”

Bruce leaned in, intrigued. “Dangerous, I assume?”

“Very.” She grimaced. “During all of this, the Fantastic Four got involved, and… things got messy. There was a brief, but intense, power fluctuation. Sue and Johnny’s abilities swapped unexpectedly. Media caught pictures of it… among other things,” she whispered the last part under her breath.

“I see…” Bruce murmured, rubbing his chin. “So not only do you have an unfamiliar, cosmic-level threat, but now you’re dealing with uncontrolled, fluctuating abilities. That’s a delicate situation.”

Camille nodded. “It’s… complicated. But I’m keeping an eye on it, as best I can. Reed and I are trying to figure out the technical side, while also handling the anomalies and tracking the Surfer. It’s a lot, but manageable.”

Bruce gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re handling it better than most would. But Blue…” His tone softened, shifting from professional to personal. He kept looking to the side when he spoke, “How are you?”

Camille hesitated. Her instinct was to shrug, to brush it off with a half-smile. “I’m fine. I mean, new team, new crisis, same story.”

He gave her that look. The one Tony used to give when she tried the same trick with him—the mix of amusement and disappointment that said you’re not fooling me.

“You’re carrying more than you’re saying,” Bruce said gently. “I can hear it in your voice. You don’t have to keep doing this, Camille. You can come home.”

She pressed her lips together, then exhaled slowly. “I can’t do that, Bruce. I need to help finish this.”

“Maybe. But it’s not healthy, what would Tony think?” Bruce replied, leaning his chin on his hand. His tone was patient, steady. The mention of Tony made her heart sink. “I promised him I would take care of you, kiddo. You can’t keep running away from this. From him. Have you ever thought about reaching out to Steve again?”

The name hit harder than she wanted. Her chest squeezed, and—against her will—her mind jumped not to Steve, but to Johnny’s grin flashing in the crowd earlier. Camille looked away, pretending to busy herself with a stray cable on the table. “…Not really.”

Bruce’s image flickered on the screen, his expression a mix of concern and quiet authority. “Camille… I need to be honest with you. This… dimension-hopping, universe-saving crusade you’re on. It’s not good for you; you’re stretching yourself too thin. You can’t keep running from one cosmic threat to another. You’re not invincible.”

Camille leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly. “I’m not running, Bruce. I’m doing what needs to be done. Someone has to keep an eye on these anomalies before they wipe out entire worlds. I can’t… I can’t have what happened in our universe to happen to others.”

Bruce shook his head, voice softening but firm. “I get it. I understand the drive. But you can’t shoulder the entire multiverse. You’re still grieving, Camille… Tony isn’t here to watch over you, and… and that weight—it’s not yours to carry.”

She swallowed hard, guilt twisting in her chest. “I know he isn’t here. That’s exactly why I have to do this. I can’t let his work, his legacy, go to waste. He believed in protecting people, in saving lives—even if it cost him everything.”

“And what about yourself?” Bruce pressed, leaning closer to the screen, his green eyes sharp. “What about your heart? Your mind? You can’t just bury yourself in crises to escape… everything else.”

Camille’s jaw tightened. She turned her gaze away, blinking back the sting of memory. “I… I can’t deal with that right now,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “Not when there’s so much else at stake. So many worlds that need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “Camille… I know Tony trusted you, and you want to honor him. But don’t let guilt drive you. And don’t let the past—Steve leaving—dictate your every move. You’re hurting yourself by running, no matter how noble it feels.”

She exhaled sharply, looking down at her hands. “I… I know you’re right. But staying put feels impossible. If I stop—even for a second…”

Bruce gave a long, measured nod. His eyes were looking at something off-screen before he sighed. “I get it. You’re carrying a lot, Camille. But promise me you’ll remember you don’t have to do this. And when you’re ready… You allow yourself to grieve and face everything. That includes Steve.”

Her throat tightened, a quiet shiver running through her. “…I’ll think about it,” she whispered.

“Camille.” His voice softened further, like he was carefully stepping over glass. “You don’t have to do it today. Or tomorrow. But I know you. And I know you’re still thinking about what happened. Hiding it won’t make it go away.”

She sighed. She stared at the table. The cool glass distracted her for a moment. “…After this mission. I’ll… think about it. I’ll try.” The words came out quieter than she intended, laced with doubt.

Bruce studied her a moment longer, then nodded. “That’s all I ask. Just… don’t lock the door completely, okay? You’re allowed to get some closure. Or even just to yell at him.”

That last bit earned a faint laugh from her. “I think he already got a lot of yelling from me.”

“What’s a few more?” Bruce smiled, warm and tired, but reassuring. “Keep me posted, all right? And Blue—be careful out there.”

“Always am,” she said, though they both knew it wasn’t true.

The call ended, the screen fading to black.

Camille stood still in the empty lab, staring at her reflection in the dark glass as she set the piece of tech back down. For a moment, her walls cracked.

Steve.

She could still remember the day he left—how his words had tangled in her chest, how she thought there would be a future to build together once the fight was finally over. But instead, he’d chosen to live out his life in the past, with Peggy, someone she could never compete with. She hadn’t even been given a choice.

Her chest ached, like it always did when she thought about it too long. She clenched her fists, forcing the sting of tears back.

“After this mission,” she whispered to herself. But even as she said it, doubt curled around her heart. Because some wounds didn’t heal with time. Some just kept bleeding.

And yet—unbidden—another image slipped in. Johnny’s grin, cocky and unashamed. The warmth of his sleeve brushing hers in the lab. The ridiculous way he’d made the paparazzi cheer even as she wanted to disappear. Too alive. Too present. Too different from a ghost.

Her throat tightened. She pressed her palm flat to the cold glass, shutting her eyes. Don’t think about him, she told herself. But the echo of his voice—loud, brash, alive—lingered all the same, refusing to be buried with the rest.

She swiveled in her chair, turning just in time to catch a glimpse of Johnny storming out of the lab, his expression tight. Through the glass wall their eyes met. Something in his gaze softened when she offered a faint smile, a silent invitation. After a beat, he gave in and walked toward her room, slipping inside to sink into the chair beside her.

“I’m guessing the whole thing about your powers didn’t sit well with you,” she said gently after a pause.

Johnny sighed, shaking his head. “No, not really.” He dragged a hand over his face before glancing at her again. Her eyes were rimmed red, her smile strained. “I’m guessing your call didn’t go well, either?”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “Oh, it went swimmingly. So swimmingly that my emotional stability officially hit rock bottom.”

“Yikes.” He winced, lips quirking in sympathy. “That bad, huh?”

She leaned her head into her palm, tilting toward him just slightly, enough to catch the faint smell of smoke and cologne clinging to him. “And you? How’s your day holding up?”

Johnny mustered a crooked grin, dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently, if I so much as breathe on my team, we swap powers. No clue if it’s permanent, temporary… or if I’m about to turn everyone into radioactive spaghetti. But hey—living the dream.”

Camille snorted softly, the sound easing the tension between them. “Looks like we’re both having a shitty day. Yours just happens to be a touch shittier.”

His laugh came quieter this time, less armor, more real. For a moment, the lab’s hum faded, and he just looked at her — really looked. Exhausted, sharp-edged, but still here. And Camille, against her better judgment, found herself meeting his gaze longer than she meant to, the corner of her mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile she couldn’t quite hide.

“What a way to beat the competition,” Johnny murmured, shaking his head, but the grin that followed was softer than usual, meant for her alone.

Chapter Text

“MY INSIDE SOURCES are telling me that the unlucky bride-to-be, Sue Storm, turned invisible, and it seems she’s staying that way after yesterday’s fiasco.”

Camille clicked her tongue, slumping back on the couch beside Alicia in the entertainment room. Ben was a few paces away, lifting weights, but clearly listening in.

“Next up—The Human Torch’s New Flame? That’s right, folks. After Sue Storm’s sudden combustion yesterday, cameras caught Johnny and a striking brunette clinging close in the middle of the chaos. The internet is ablaze as speculation about a possible romance takes over the headlines.”

Camille groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Can you believe this?” she muttered, peeking at Alicia, who only chuckled.

Ben rumbled a laugh, lowering his weights. “What’s there not to believe, kid? Johnny finally found someone who could keep up with him. And you’re even making E! News.”

Her head snapped toward him. “It’s not like that,” she blurted, too quickly, heat creeping into her cheeks.

“Sure, sure,” Ben drawled, smirking. “Just coworkers. With chemistry.”

Alicia giggled, covering her mouth, and Camille groaned louder, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at Ben’s rocky shoulder.

He caught it without flinching. “Careful, sweetheart, or the next headline’s gonna be: ‘Human Torch’s Mystery Girl Attacks The Thing.’”

She opened her mouth to fire back at Ben, but the sharp sound of the doors slamming open cut her off. Johnny stormed in, jaw tight, expression thunderous. He dropped heavily onto the couch beside her, close enough that his arm brushed hers. Camille stiffened at the sudden contact, heart lurching even as she tried to angle away.

The news anchor’s voice still echoed faintly from the screen: The Human Torch’s New Flame?

Neither of them looked at the television, but Camille caught the flicker of his glance her way and the way her pulse refused to settle under it.

“They’re breaking up the team,” Johnny announced flatly.

“Huh?” Ben grunted, pushing himself to his feet.

“Reed and Sue—I just overheard them. They want a nice, normal, boring-ass life. No more Fantastic Four,” Johnny clarified, anger sharp in his tone. Camille frowned at the bite in his voice before glancing at Ben, whose face mirrored the same frustration.

“Well… what do we do? Keep going, just the two of us?” Ben asked.

“And call ourselves what? The Dynamic Duo?” Johnny shot back, dripping sarcasm.

“When were they gonna tell us?” Ben demanded.

“They’ll tell you when they’re ready. It’s their decision, not yours,” Alicia cut in sternly.

Camille nodded, even though Alicia couldn’t see it. “You can’t be mad at them for doing what makes them happy.” Her voice softened slightly at the end, her thoughts flicking to Tony and Pepper — to their quiet wedding, their cabin, the rare peace they’d carved for themselves after the Snap.

Alicia’s hand brushed her shoulder in approval, her lips curving into a faint smile. Johnny scoffed, leaning back with a frustrated huff, his jaw tight as though even hearing the words was unbearable. His gaze darted briefly toward Camille then, catching on her calm expression. For a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased—not much, but enough to notice.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, his voice lower, “guess normal’s not in the cards for people like us.”

Camille turned her head toward him, their eyes locking just long enough—a flicker of understanding, maybe even recognition. Her chest tightened, but she didn’t look away until Reed came barreling in, breaking the moment.

“Guys. We've got a serious problem,” he says. Camille instantly shot up from her seat, following him to the lab. The heat of the moment, lighting up her cheeks and neck.

“I cross-referenced the Surfer’s radiation using Camille’s observations, with every astronomical database I could access,” Reed began, his voice clipped and urgent. “Altair 7, Rigel 3, Vega 6…”

The screen shifted to a sequence of planetary images, each one more horrifying than the last: cracked surfaces, lifeless wastelands, some shattered into fragments.

Camille’s hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. “He’s been to all these planets?”

Reed nods grimly. “And now they're lifeless. Barren. Some even shattered. Everywhere the Surfer goes, eight days later, the planet dies.” A heavy silence passed through the group. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Camille’s chest tightened, her heartbeat quickening with the all-too-familiar dread she’d felt on countless worlds before. No matter how many times she tried to prepare herself, the reality of extinction never dulled.

“How are we supposed to stop him?” Ben finally muttered, breaking the suffocating silence. “We don’t even know where he is.”

“The craters,” Camille said under her breath. Reed’s head snapped toward her, already following her train of thought. His fingers flew across the console, pulling up the coordinates of each crater reported on Earth.

“They appear in a numerical sequence.” He said.

“The last crater was formed in Greenland,” she notes, eyes narrowing at the screen.

“So the next in the sequence should be…” Reed trailed off, muttering coordinates under his breath after the computer finished calculating it.

“London,” she finished. The five of them exchanged a tense look

Reed straightened. “I’ll contact General Hager. The rest of you, get ready.”

Dismissed, the group dispersed, the weight of what was coming pressing on each step they took. As Camille turned from the screen, Johnny fell into step beside her without a word. Their shoulders brushed, a brief spark in the dark. She glanced at him, his worry mirroring her own. Their mind still stuck on the images Reed had pulled up—dead planets, broken shells of what once were. Her fists clenched at her sides, but she forced herself to keep pace.

Johnny pushed open the door to his room and went straight for his suit. He pulled the top half off its hanger and slipped one arm through after yanking his shirt off, his movements sharp, unfocused. The sudden glimpse of bare skin made Camille’s throat go tight; she quickly looked away, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed a little too tightly.

“Well,” he muttered with a halfhearted grin, “guess it’s the end of the world. You’re probably used to that, huh?”

“Not really,” she answered, her tone sharper than she meant. Instead of suiting up, she tugged on a lab coat.

Johnny’s smirk faltered before continuing to zip up his suit. “Sorry. Just… you’ve seen this before, right? Thanos, aliens, all that cosmic end-of-the-world crap. Meanwhile, this is my first intergalactic apocalypse. Lucky me.”

She forced a dry chuckle, though it sounded strained. “Hopefully the last.”

“Hopefully,” he repeats. He glanced at her, his hands slowing as he adjusted the collar of his suit. “So… why are you here, really? I mean, this isn’t even your world or universe. Nobody would’ve blamed you if you stayed out of it.”

Her arms tightened across her chest. “Because it’s still a world,” she said, her voice low, trembling at the edges. “Because I’ve seen what happens when you can’t stop it. And I can’t—” she swallowed, looking away. “I can’t let that happen to anyone else.”

Johnny studied her for a long beat, the playful mask slipping. He stepped closer, just enough that she felt the heat rolling off him. “You know, I’ve been watching you since you got here,” he said softly, no teasing in his tone. “And sometimes… it feels like you’re not really looking at me. Like I remind you of someone else.”

Camille’s chest tightened, her nails biting into her arms. “You’re imagining things,” she replied too quickly, the words like a shield.

He didn’t push, but his gaze lingered on her a moment longer, heavy with questions he couldn’t quite voice. “Yeah. Maybe,” he muttered, though the doubt in his voice betrayed the easy shrug that followed. “So… this whole interdimensional hero gig, it’s not just about saving people, is it?” he asked softly, his blue eyes boring into hers. The same ones she can’t lie to.

Her jaw tightened. “It’s never just about saving people,” she admitted, her voice quiet, almost breaking. “It’s about who you lose when you fail.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence was heavy, thick with words unsaid, their nearness sparking with something neither dared name.

Then Reed’s voice cracked through the comms: “Johnny, Camille—roof. Now. The general’s here.”

Johnny dragged a hand over his elbow, adjusting his sleeves. He gave her a look, one that promised the conversation wasn’t finished. Then, he strode for the door. Camille followed, pulling her lab coat closer, her chest still knotted tight.

THE LOUD HUM of the helicopter swallowed the silence inside, but it did nothing to quiet Camille’s thoughts as she ran simulations on her tablet. Ever since her talk with Johnny, her mind refused to settle. Every part of this mission seemed designed to peel back the walls she’d built, forcing her to confront the ghost she’d been trying so hard to outrun.

She turns to look outside the chopper, avoiding Ben’s confused/worried gaze across from her. She had been very quiet since boarding the plane, and she wasn’t the only one. Johnny sat behind her with the pilot, unusually subdued, his knee bouncing with restless energy. The absence of his usual quips and easy charm made the air feel even heavier, the space between them stretched thin with unacknowledged fear.

“When he surfaces, move the fight away from the crowd,” Reed ordered sharply, his voice cutting through the drone of the rotor blades. Camille snapped upright, harness tightening across her chest. Her eyes flicked toward the others—then, almost instinctively, toward Johnny.

“He’s too fast to contain. When I see silver, I’m hitting him!” Johnny’s voice rang out, hard and impatient. She frowned at his words, exchanging a look with Ben, who only sighed.

“You can’t do that. We stick to the plan and work as a team,” Reed shot back, his tone clipped.

Johnny turned halfway in his seat with a glare. “Oh, we’re a team now? News to me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Reed asked, casting a nervous look at Sue.

“You know what,” Johnny muttered, rolling his eyes before fixing his stare on the dark skies ahead. His knee bounced harder now, tension radiating off him. Camille shifted in her seat, the back of her arm brushing against his for the briefest moment. The contact startled her, but she didn’t pull right away—and for a heartbeat, his restless bouncing stilled.

“Look—we were gonna tell you,” Reed tried, but Johnny wasn't having it.

“When?” He snapped, twisting back toward them with a bitter laugh. “When you moved our stuff out of the Baxter Building?”

“Johnny, this isn’t a good time,” Sue cut in, her voice low but urgent.

Ben grunted, finally speaking up. “Kid’s got a point, Reed. You should’ve told us.”

Camille arched a brow at him, ‘really?’  but Ben only shrugged, folding his massive arms.

“That’s enough! We’ll talk about this later,” Reed barked, raising his voice over the thrum of the blades.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” General Hager snapped from beside her, his scowl cutting deeper than the noise around them. The rebuke silenced the cabin at once. 

Camille sighed, pulling up her tablet to present her findings.

“So,” she began, drawing the group’s attention, “remember how I mentioned the craters nearly reaching the Earth’s core?” She waited for their nods before continuing, her voice steady but urgent. “I ran a series of simulations using the Earth’s gravitational field, and the data show the core has been steadily weakening ever since the craters appeared. Which means the Surfer isn’t just leaving random marks… he’s systematically destabilizing the planet’s structure. The tidal surges, the magnetic distortions, the atmospheric anomalies—every single one points to the same conclusion.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “And if he completes the sequence…”

“The Earth becomes barren,” Reed finishes her thought. She nodded gravely.

“We need to stop him as soon as possible,” she tells the whole team. Johnny stiffened behind her, sighing.

“We're here,” Hager announces. As they approached the River Thames, a huge whirlpool appeared in the middle of it, drawing a large crowd who were taking pictures and videos of it.

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. 

The helicopter touched down hard, the rotors kicking up spray. The Four surged forward the moment the doors opened, their movements practiced, coordinated. Camille lingered a step behind the military, tablet clutched tight as she measured the cosmic energies in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Johnny glancing over his shoulder, as if to make sure she was there, before he hurled himself toward the scene.

Chaos tore through the air as panicked screams rose from the riverbank. People scattered in every direction, shoving past one another in blind desperation. Above the chaos, the London Eye groaned like a dying beast. Metal shrieked as bolts snapped loose, the massive wheel shuddering against its supports. In a terrifying lurch, the entire structure pitched forward—its glass pods still crammed with passengers who pounded helplessly against the windows as the giant wheel began its slow, inevitable collapse toward the Thames. Fortunately, before the wheel could stray further, Sue puts up a giant force field to keep it in place while Ben holds it up from below and Reed stretched himself to fully support it back. The people inside the compartments fell over to one side. 

Hearing the screams of the people in the Ferris wheel and the Four's struggle with holding it up.  Camille was unable to stand helplessly as she bolted past the military barricade, ignoring their shouts. Planting her feet on the concrete, she flung her arms out, opening shimmering portals into the compartments above and a wide one on the ground below. Blue light rippled as her energy tore through the air. Her jaw clenched, body trembling from the strain—back home, she could’ve opened more portals to empty the whole wheel at once. Here, it took everything she had to keep several active.

“PLEASE STEP THROUGH THE PORTAL TO GET TO SAFE GROUND,” Her voice echoed inside each capsule, reaching the panicked passengers. One by one, they stumbled into the glowing blue arches, vanishing and reappearing on the ground. General Hager and the soldiers gawked openly, too stunned to intervene. Camille ignored them, sweat beading at her temple as she held the portals open, her energy bleeding away with every passing second.

The Surfer erupted from the crater in a gleam of silver, streaking skyward. A flash of heat sparked near her—Johnny bursting after him in a fiery trail.

“Johnny, wait!” she cried, her voice cracking. But he didn’t hear.

A cable snapped loose, whipping across the air. Johnny swerved, startled, and crashed hard into one of Reed’s stretched limbs. In a sickening instant, the two of them switched powers—Johnny plummeting into a puddle below while Reed flared up in flames.

Camille’s heart lurched. “Johnny!” She nearly lost her hold on the portals, her vision swimming, but she forced herself steady as the wheel groaned forward again.

Sue staggered under the pressure, Ben straining beneath the weight. Camille pushed harder, forcing new portals into the middle compartments. Her entire body shook from the effort, her knees threatening to give, but she willed the blue rings to sweep passengers to safety. One compartment. Then another. Then another.

Reed, now blazing, barked instructions. Ben heaved the wheel higher, gritting through the strain, while Reed fused the supports with burning flame. Finally, the structure steadied. Screams quieted as the last passengers spilled safely onto solid ground. Camille stumbled toward Sue, dropping beside her and tugging her gently down before she could collapse under her force field. Both women sank to their knees, breathing hard.

“Good job, Sue,” Camille rasped, barely finding the air.

Sue managed a shaky smile. “You too, Camille.”

“—Sue!” Reed sprinted over, worry etched deep. He steadied his wife, brushing Johnny in the process—powers snapping back to their rightful hosts in a burst. Camille forced herself upright, swaying. Johnny took a step toward her, instinct burning in his expression, but Reed’s sharp voice cut him down.

“Stay back! Before you get someone killed.”

The words hit like a blade, but not just at Johnny. Camille’s eyes widened, disbelief and anger flaring at once. “Reed.”

“Oh my god,” Ben’s voice catches their attention, and all of them turn to see the Thames. The riverbed stretched bare and desolate, the water completely drained away. Johnny looks away in defeat, disappointed with himself. His eyes land on Camille, her face hardened with focus and determination. She turned to catch his glance, then there was that look again. The soft, affectionate gaze, he can't seem to wrap his head around.

After regaining a bit of energy, she portals near the crater before anyone could stop her.

“FRIDAY, run diagnostics,” she ordered, breath ragged.

“Working… ” the AI replied, her tone level, almost soothing over the chaos. A soft chime followed. “Depth is consistent with the last two sites. Energy readings confirm another extraction point from the planet’s core. Current destabilization has risen to zero-point-zero-five percent.”

Camille swallowed hard. “How many more before Earth collapses?”

“Five.”

Chapter Text

THAT NIGHT FELT heavy for a lot of reasons. The hotel sat just off the Thames, its glass windows reflecting the barren river bed. A constant reminder of what had happened.  After the disastrous event, Hager had the decency to give them this time to rest before the inevitable meeting tomorrow about their performance. He had made it a point that Camille would be a part of the discussion they were going to have. Which she was not too fond of having.

Inside, the Fantastic Four scattered in different directions, each retreating into their own silence. Reed had vanished into his and Sue’s room almost immediately, already dissecting the mission like an autopsy. Ben lingered downstairs to call Alicia, his gruff voice softer than usual as he reassured her they had made it out alive. Sue remained glued to the television in Camille’s room, arms crossed, jaw tight, as newscasters replayed shaky phone footage of the fight. Some praised their efforts. Others tore them apart. Some had even welcomed the appearance of a new hero after footage of her leaked online. But a lot of them had been aimed towards Johnny. 

HUMAN TORCH OUT OF CONTROL: Recklessness or Heroism?

Sue was quick to change the channel when a knock rattled the door. The angry anchor’s voice gave way to the harmless jingle of a toothpaste commercial, filling the silence with an almost mocking cheer. She and Camille shared a look, both uncertain who it could be at this hour. Another set of knocks followed. Softer this time, almost hesitant.

Camille rose from the couch, padding toward the door. When she opened it, Johnny stood there, his posture stripped of its usual swagger. Shoulders slack, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed firmly on the carpet.

Sue’s eyes softened the moment she saw him. “Johnny, are you okay?”

His head jerked up at her voice, the words stumbling out of him before he could catch them. “Oh—uh, I didn’t know you had company…” His glance flickered past her, landing on Camille, then darting away again.

Sue followed his gaze, reading more in his expression than he probably wanted her to. She pressed her lips into a thin line before saying gently, “I was just leaving, actually.”

Camille frowned. “You don’t have to—”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Sue squeezed her arm briefly, her way of saying take care of him, before slipping past her brother and down the hall.

Johnny shifted awkwardly in the doorway, still refusing to meet Camille’s eyes. The confident smirk, the cocky tilt of his chin—all of it was gone. In its place was something smaller. Raw.

“Can I—uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words. “Can I come in?”

Camille stepped aside, her voice low. “Of course.”

He walked in like the room might reject him, every movement careful, heavy. The toothpaste commercial had ended. A different anchor was now on the screen, yet the headline stayed similar to the last one.

Hero or Menace? London Left Scorched.

She frowned at the words. Johnny kept his eyes on it. His quiet composure cracking when footage of him falling from the sky played. He dropped onto the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “They hate me,” he muttered. “The press. The people. Hell, maybe even my own team.”

Camille sat across from him, her gaze lingering on the hard line of his jaw, the way his fists curled tight against his knees. The sight struck her like a blow—a frightening dose of déjà vu. She had seen this before: the slump of a man crushed under doubt, the regret etched in the set of his mouth, the guilt burning behind his eyes.

The memories came in droves. Cheap motels with peeling wallpaper. Whispered conversations drowned by the hum of broken air conditioners. A hasty visit cut short by circumstances neither of them could control. Nights spent portalling from one safehouse to the next, carrying exhaustion in her bones and watching him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And for a fleeting moment, looking at Johnny, it was like the past had found its way back to her—same shadows, same heaviness, just wearing a different face.

“They don’t hate you, Johnny,” she finally says. Her voice softer than she intended. Her hands ghosting over his arms for a moment before committing to the touch. The contact made him lift his head, surprise flickering across his features. For a second, he almost pulled away, but the warmth of her touch rooted him there.

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You didn’t hear them. Reckless. Careless. Like I’m just one bad day away from burning this whole city down.” His laugh was short, bitter. “Maybe they’re right.”

Camille shook her head, leaning in just enough for her words to carry. “I’ve seen reckless. I’ve seen careless. That’s not who you are.” 

He stared at her, like he wanted to believe but couldn’t quite cross the gap. The doubt in his eyes mirrored a shadow she knew too well. Her thumb brushed absent circles over his sleeve, grounding herself as much as him.

“You’re not the Human Torch,” she states, her eyes meeting his. This time, the words come naturally to her. “You’re Johnny Storm. You’re not just fire, you’re a person. Someone who won’t back down when something threatens his world. The guy who runs in when everyone else hesitates. The one who takes the hit so someone else doesn’t have to. You carry more than you let on… and maybe you don’t even see it, but I do. You’re more than what they say. More than what you think. You’re… you.”

The way he looked at her then—searching, hungry for something to hold onto—made her heart stutter. It was the same look she remembered in dim motel rooms and war-torn cities, years and worlds away. A look that begged for proof he wasn’t alone in the fight. And it was only when the weight of his gaze lingered, soft and unguarded, that she realized how familiar it all felt. Too familiar.

Johnny let out a sharp breath that almost passed for a laugh. “You make me sound like some kind of saint. Newsflash, I’m not.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. His eyes go back to the television, a different segment flashing on screen. “Half the time I don’t even know what I’m doing out there. Reed’s the brain, Sue’s the heart, Ben’s the muscle. Me? I’m just… the fire hazard they try to keep under control.” He glanced at her then, blue eyes vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see. “But when you say it…” His voice dropped, uncertain. “For a second, it almost feels true. Like maybe I’m more than what they see.”

“You are,” she answered instantly. Her hand tightened on his arm, steady now, deliberate. “It’s true,” she whispered sheepishly. “You are more than what they see. I’ve watched you. You don’t quit when things get ugly. You don’t walk away when it counts. You think that’s nothing, but it’s everything.”

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken things. Johnny turned toward her slowly, the corners of his mouth trembling like he couldn’t decide between a smile or another self-defense joke. But his eyes stayed locked on hers.

And for a heartbeat too long, Camille forgot where she was.

The years folded back in on themselves: cheap motel rooms, nights spent on the run, whispered reassurances to a man who carried the world on his shoulders. A different man, but the same posture, the same weight in his eyes, the same need for someone to remind him he was more than the scars he carried.

Her breath caught. Her hand lifted to his cheek, and the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“You’re braver than you think, Steve.”

The name cut through the quiet like shattering glass.

Johnny froze. The flicker of warmth in his face collapsed, replaced by a sharp confusion that hardened into something colder. “…What did you just call me?”

Camille’s eyes went wide, horror flashing across her face as her hand fell away. “Johnny, I— That wasn’t—”

But he was already pulling back, the walls slamming up fast. His eyes were cold—sharp with betrayal and something else. Hurt. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to argue, to demand more — to make her say something that would fix the crack she had just opened.

Instead, his jaw clenched. Whatever fight was there drained out, leaving only the hollow weight of betrayal. He stood abruptly, the couch groaning under the shift. Camille reached out instinctively, but her hand faltered in the empty air between them.

“Johnny…” Her voice broke on his name.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even look back. With his shoulders tense and his steps heavy, he turned and walked to the door. The sound of it opening and closing behind him echoed through the room, sharp and final.

Camille sat frozen where she was, the silence pressing in on her like a vice. Her hand curled into a fist against her lap, trembling. Tears brimming in her eyes as the television droned on. 

Her thoughts spiraled, tangled between past and present. She saw Johnny’s hurt expression, how quickly the warmth in his eyes had frozen over. But layered over that was another face—the same jawline locked in regret, the same shoulders bowed under invisible weight. Different man, same shadow. She had told herself she’d moved past it, that she could build something new without carrying old scars into it. But tonight proved she hadn’t let go. Maybe she never would.

And now she had dragged Johnny into that wound.

Part of her wanted to run after him, to beg him to listen, to explain. But what could she say? That he reminded her of someone she had lost? That her heart kept betraying her with memories of a man who wasn’t there anymore? That every time she looked at Johnny, she was terrified she was just trying to fill the void?

The sound of commercials did nothing to muffle her sobs as the night drifted on.