This is another weird crossover and a growing example of the obsession I seem to have with both Harry Potter and Johnny Storm. I'm going mostly by the Fantastic Four movies, but I'm taking some elements from the comics. Like Johnny's age. He'll be nineteen for the most part of this. In the comics, he was sixteen when he went up into space and this is after the second movie. I am, however, changing something from the end of the second movie to make this story. This is also AU during some points for Harry Potter as well.

I know that the Harry/Cedric stuff seams kind of pointless right now but it will have a major effect on this story, trust me.

I got the title of this from a Stabbing Westward song, which I love.

Don't own anything.


As soon as Johnny landed, he touched them all, giving back the borrowed powers and then kneeled in front of Reed and Sue. Sue's eyes were closed now, and Johnny felt tears burning his own.

"Hey, look." Johnny forced himself to look up at the sky at the sound of Ben's voice, to the clear sky. The surfer had done it. The world was saved, but Johnny didn't feel any better.

He turned back to his sister. His sister, who was lying unmoving in Reed's arms. Sue's eyes were still closed. He felt Ben's heavy hand on his shoulder and didn't even register the fact that he didn't change.

Reed was crying into Sue's hair, and Johnny couldn't move. The world was safe, they had stopped Victor, but kneeling there in the middle of the street, Johnny Storm's world ended.


Harry gripped his wand, staring down at Voldemort's body. He stood there for several minutes, not moving. He was vaguely aware of the cheer that went up from some of the students and teachers.

Harry used to wonder what he would feel like when this was finally all over, if he defeated Voldemort. Now, here he was. Voldemort was dead, but all he felt was numb.

He didn't know how long he stood there, taking the congratulations and uncomfortable conversations before he roughly brushed off their hands and made his way over to the people who were not celebrating.

He stopped short at the sight before him. He had the thought that he should be screaming, or crying or something. He didn't do either, though, just stood there, feeling hollow.

Molly Weasley was crying, holding one of her dead children close to her body. There was no blood on Ginny's body as her mother clutched her. To Ginny's left, George was doing the same with Fred.

To their left were Remus and Tonks. The line seemed endless to Harry and there were two bodies missing. Missing because he had buried them himself.

He had saved the wizarding world, defeated Voldemort, fulfilled the prophesy. The thought didn't make him feel better. Standing there, staring down at the destroyed family that he had thought of as his own for years now, Harry Potter's world ended.


Harry's world crumbled a lot and he had finally had enough. He had finally shut down. There was only so much a person could take, and Harry had reached his limit a while ago.

While he didn't remember it, his parent's deaths had still been a source of pain during his younger years. It had ended with him living with the Dursley's, who had made sure that the first eleven years of his life were miserable.

Cedric's death had nearly destroyed him. No one had known about how he had truly felt about Cedric. No one had known that he wasn't a hundred percent straight. No one except for Hermione, Ron, and Sirius. He hadn't spent much time with Cedric, but he had loved him. He had loved Cedric fiercely. He had never felt anything like it before and knew he wouldn't ever again.

After Cedric died, he had taken one blow after another. Sirius, Dumbledore, Dobby, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Hermione, Ron, Ginny...

He had loved Ginny, to an extent. He hadn't loved her with the fire or fierceness he had Cedric, but he had still loved her. He had actually told her so, as well, feeling like it wouldn't be right not too. She had still stayed with him. And now she was dead, too.

Ron and Hermione's deaths had hurt just as bad as Cedric's. It was actually when Hermione had died that he started to feel the numbness. He had pressed on, because it was his job, and because if he didn't, their deaths would have been for nothing, but he hadn't felt much after watching her die.

He had come to one conclusion as he sat in the Hogwarts great hall for the last time. He had to get out.


Harry slipped away quietly. He couldn't stay anymore. The only thing he did before leaving was leave a note for Mrs. Weasely because as much as he had to get away, he didn't want her to think something horrible had happened to him. She had been through enough.

He took the bare essentials and some money and simply apparated away. He didn't stop when he landed, but just kept on walking. He wasn't even sure where he was, the only thought that he had was to get away.

The endless names kept running over and over again in his head. It started with Cedric, which seemed like a hundred years ago to Harry, and ended with Hermione and Ron.

Cedric's death alone had nearly destroyed Harry, but there were so many tragedies piled on top of that now. Still, sometimes, even during the last year when he, Ron, and Hermione were searching for the way to finally end this war, even after Sirius and Dumbledore, Cedric's death still weighed the heaviest on him.

Harry was so lost in thought and his memory's that he ran straight into someone's chest. Harry fell backwards and immediately sat up, and looked up into blue eyes.


The decision to leave New York behind wasn't hard. Johnny packed the bare essentials, looking around his room at the Baxter Building.

"Johnny." He jumped at the sound of Alicia's voice before going back to stuffing a pair of jeans into the small bag.

"What are you doing here?" He heard her step further into the bedroom, and finally looked up at her when she sat on the bed and reached out to touch his bag.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question

"Yes." He said flatly. "I-I'm..." Alicia's hands fisted on his bag.

"If you're going to apologize again, don't. Okay? This wasn't your fault."

"No?" Johnny asked, bitterness coming into his voice for a moment. "You mean I wasn't the one who wanted revenge? I wasn't the one who wanted to go after Victor?"

"You weren't the only one." She said quietly. "They made the choice, too." He stared at her. How could she be so calm about this? Why wasn't she yelling at him? Hitting him? Why didn't she hate him? He sure as hell hated himself.

"I can't stay here, not anymore." He reached out and gently removed Alicia's grip on his bag. "I got him killed, Alicia. That shot was meant for me."

"You couldn't have stopped it, Johnny." For a moment, and Johnny could see the pain that she was feeling. "He...He loved you like a brother, or maybe even a son. He would have done it no matter what. He would have protected you no matter what."

"You honestly think that makes this easier? You were wrong, Alicia. What you said before about love and all that, you were wrong."

"Johnny..." He stepped away from her but stopped in the doorway.

"I should be dead." Johnny paused. "I wish I was." And then he did turn, and he walked out of the building.


Alicia sat on Johnny's bed for a while after he had left. The pain she had been feeling since Ben had died magnified in the face of Johnny's. Alicia knew that what she was feeling was probably only a fraction of what Johnny was feeling.

Nobody deserved this, especially not a kid like him. He was, really. Only nineteen years old and he had gone through more than even she could imagine.

Alicia knew from all the times she and Sue had talked what his childhood had been like. She knew that he had only been nine when their mother had died and thirteen when their father had died. Sue had really raised him after their mother died as their father hadn't really been able to handle things after that. And then he had been sent to prison and died...

Sue's death had literally destroyed him. Johnny never said it, he never talked about it, but Alicia knew how much he depended on Sue. How much he loved her. She was his older sister and his mother of sorts.

Reed's and Ben's voices had been like fire, anger and guilt and grief all rolled together when they had talked about going after Victor. It was the expected reaction. They had felt guilty that they couldn't save her. They had felt rage at Victor for causing her death. They had been grieving.

Johnny's voice had been hollow. Sue's death had emptied him out, left him a shadow of the hyper, excited, full of life teenager he had been before. Reed had loved Sue, but Sue had been Johnny's life.

Sue had been the only stable thing in Johnny's life. Johnny was reckless and fearless and constantly in motion. Sue was the only thing that seemed to keep him grounded.

Now, Johnny was blaming himself for two more deaths in his life. Alicia lay back on Johnny's bed, pain welling in her chest once again at the thought of Ben. Ben and Reed's deaths had been one blow too many for Johnny.

She had tried to help him, if only for Ben. What she had said to Johnny was true. Ben had thought of him that way. But Ben was dead, as was Reed. And Johnny was broken.


Johnny stood on the outer edge of the cemetery that his family had been buried. He didn't go inside, he never did. He could still faintly see the headstone that marked Sue's grave from there, though. He stood there for several more minutes, before turning and walking away.

Johnny did not notice that he had been spotted by someone, or the whispers that followed him, he was too lost in thought. He was so lost in thought, staring down at the sidewalk that he ran straight into someone and found himself sitting.

Johnny looked up to see who he had run into, and met green eyes.