Childhood, Interrupted

For a while during the 1970s and into the '80s, it seemed the odds were going to be stacked against Franklin Richards, the son of Sue and Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four, no matter how many readers might have been pulling for him even going back to the difficult circumstances of his birth. As if his life weren't going to be harrowing enough being the vulnerable child of a couple who had difficulty protecting him from the frequent dangers they faced with their team, there were his mutant abilities to contend with--powers that were both unpredictable as to their emergence and potentially dangerous to the entire world should they be fully unleashed. Such a crisis arrived in late 1973, when his father was forced to "shut down" his son's mind by use of a defective anti-matter weapon before disaster occurred (which, if you were to ask anyone who witnessed the scene, surely qualified as a disaster in itself), an incident that led to all the members of the FF separating for a time until reconciliation between Reed and Sue eventually took place.

If we backtrack a bit to the point when Franklin was still a toddler, we see that whatever ambivalence either Stan Lee or Roy Thomas felt in terms of what direction to take Franklin in ceased when writer Gerry Conway began his run on Fantastic Four and began laying that decision's groundwork in mid-1973, shortly after Reed and Sue separated following the FF's battle with the new Frightful Four. Sue, with Franklin, retreats to a farm owned by friends in Pennsylvania--and we glimpse a portent of things to come.

It's later that year when Annihilus's tampering with Franklin's power leads to Reed's desperate action, after which Franklin fell into a coma--a condition that lasts for just over a year until another crisis, in the form of the return of Ultron, serves as the catalyst that returns Franklin to consciousness, and normalcy.

It's an ending to the situation virtually wrapped up with a bow, given that Conway leaves the FF title shortly thereafter. Roy Thomas, taking the reins of the book from that point, seems content to leave well enough alone vis-à-vis Franklin, when he touches base on the subject in 1976:

(As we know in hindsight, Sue's traumatic encounter with Psycho-Man nine years later would have her dispensing with her objections here to updating her FF name.)

Thomas's sentiments are not at all shared by Marv Wolfman in the 1980 FF Annual, however, as we see Franklin's abilities re-emerge during a conflict with Nicholas Scratch and Salem's Seven.

From that point, Reed and Sue appear resolved to the fact that Franklin's powers are still present and warrant keeping an eye on, though they essentially leave it at that while making sure they're there for him as loving parents while keeping a watch-and-wait attitude. (Under the circumstances, I might have sought out consultation from Charles Xavier, but what do I know.)

During Doug Moench's time on the book in 1980, passing reference is made to Franklin's still-dormant power, though mostly as a lead-in to another conflict with Scratch:

Nearly two years later, artist/writer John Byrne sees an opportunity to open the door a little further and again bring to the fore concerns about Franklin's mysterious power. And while not having the scope of Conway's treatment on the subject, Byrne's self-contained crisis here serves as an example of how to craft a dramatic story involving the power of Franklin Richards without necessitating that a future writer take it into account. Turning the page, we find such a story suitably beginning with Franklin's parents, still keeping a watchful eye on their son but preferring not to wait until a sudden development that might prove harmful but instead taking precautionary measures. And while Reed is no Charles Xavier, his own methods prove to be uniquely suited to both his inventiveness and the care of his son.

Though Reed may have been hasty to label this unit as a babysitter, considering that finding a traditional babysitter is still a concern when everyone heads out for the evening. Fortunately, no human sitter is present for what occurs next.

We can only wonder what Wally and the Beav would do in this situation.

So much for this robot's primary function to alert Reed and Sue to any sudden manifestation of their son's power. It turns out to be a good old-fashioned FF flare that brings the team running--all except Sue, who is currently isolated with Barbara Walker, a television interviewer who isn't pulling any punches with her famous guest.

Later, when Sue returns to the Baxter Building, she finds reason to be cautious in entering, and soon encounters evidence of a struggle--and then, shortly afterward, a mysterious intruder who has apparently dealt with her teammates with ease.

(No, I don't know why a wall of the FF's visitors lounge would be fortified to withstand a nova blast--or why Sue, part of a team, mind you, stood in place and watched while her brother was being attacked.)

At any rate, it's good to see that unlike her Silver Age counterpart, Sue kept her head in this encounter and tried a number of tactics to fend off the pursuit of the intruder. But she's correct in noting the power of this attacker--and it's that power which inevitably decides this struggle, just as Sue discovers a new cause for concern.

The force of the blast sends Sue plummeting to the street, where a force field breaks her fall. But with sightings of the forces being released at the Baxter Building being reported by news stations, it's not surprising to see Barbara Walker looking for a little payback for Sue coming out of their interview smelling like a rose. Though neither woman is expecting the revelation which finally comes to light.

Franklin goes on to relate the seemingly innocent events leading up to his transformation:  the challenge of the Rubik's cube... the dialog coming from a television program... in fact, Byrne appears to hinge the entire incident on Wally Cleaver's offhand remark to his brother wondering "[W]hen are you going to grow up?", a somewhat implausible catalyst to trigger the surfacing of Franklin's power but which must stand since there is no other clear reason for that power surge to cause an inexplicable transformation into adulthood.

With the exception of Reed, the rest of the FF appear to take what's happened to Franklin in stride--but the circumstances of one member of the team, the Thing, whose current appearance is the result of a recent failed procedure designed to restore his humanity, have Franklin approaching his adopted uncle with the assurance that he can end his suffering. But due to what he learns in Ben Grimm's thoughts, he realizes that the most he can do is to alleviate it.

With Franklin having returned himself to normal in the process, and with no memory of what occurred, the crisis has passed. But it falls to Reed to provide clarity to Franklin's actions, and reveal the true tragedy that has been laid bare concerning the state of his longtime friend.

It's a door that was opened when the prospect of a cure indeed proved to be real, and permanent, if not for a development that forced Ben to forsake his newly regained humanity. Yet during that time, he also considered the possibility that, once free of the form of the Thing, his feelings for Alicia might also be called into question--something to ponder in light of Reed's closing words in these panels.

And speaking of panels...

The PPC takes a bit of artistic license with a few of the panels here.

Can you pick out which ones were subtly altered?