*The Following Story Contains Heavy Subject Matter. Please Proceed With Caution.*
I never felt understood as a teenager. And that was before discovering my... gifts. The night I did was after having a nightmare. Every part of it felt like falling. Then, I woke up in the basement. The falling was real... My parents called me a freak. If I'm being honest, I hadn't felt more out of place than that moment. But it happened for a reason.
A week later, I was taken in by a man named Charles Xavier. He ran a school for gifted youngsters, convincing my parents that it was the best option in the long run. I think about those memories often. How I made friends, found purpose, learned to control my powers... find love. Both the first and one that crosses my mind.
If only they could see me now.
--
My name was Kitty Pryde. AKA Shadowcat.
Now, it's Keith Porter. AKA Overshadow.
The choice to become my true self came just as I turned 18. Everyone I told was taken back by it. Going on about how beautiful I was and how I didn't need to change to be loved. Their words came from a good place... But their reasons for them were pretty shit.
Some were greedy, like Bobby's. We broke up because he couldn't accept the choice I made.
Others were unexplainable, like Peter's. He just didn't know how to handle it. But we at least stood friends.
The last... he was a dream.
Draven was the least likely guy someone would think to accept a big change like your girlfriend transitioning into your boyfriend. It was a shock to him... But he accepted how much it meant for me to have his support. Over the next six years, he would see the best and worst of me. How different I looked, the emotions that changed, and the comfort I had in myself that wasn't there before. With how long we spent together... my heart told me he was the one.
Though like a lot of things in my life, we got into a fight. One that made us yell so much that we threw things around. Something Draven refused to do was hit me. All those villains I've faced had given me a slight fear of someone hitting me outside of crime work. He knew that as well being a vigilante. But I pushed the line by punching him as he shoved me back. The way his eyes looked... it sent a shiver down my spine. But I was too angry at the time to care.
My fight response kicked in, making me ready to fight back. The worst he did was shove me against the wall, screaming at me to stop and listen. He looped my arms in a way they couldn't move and his hands held my face, trying to reach me... Although when he broke through to me, someone in our building had called 911. The first thing they saw: Draven pinning me to the wall, apartment torn apart, holes in the wall with things broken.
How things unfolded replayed over and over when enough time passed alone.
The officers pulled him away, thrashed him to the floor and started kicking. As much as Draven wanted to fight back, he didn't. I was angry enough to press charges, tell our friends what he did, and make sure that he was hurt like I was. But by the end when I could see what really happened... I realized that I was the one who put him there.
We had our fights but never like this. Never to where he felt the need to defend himself or for me to attack him. It didn't erase the fact that he hit me. But that only happened after I attacked. It was all fucked up... And I couldn't take it back. After Draven was sent away, the guilt and reality set in.
He calmed the irrational anger I had at times.
When I felt unlike myself, he tried to make me feel right again.
I started to miss his good morning hugs, checking that I want to work.
Laughing, eating late dinner after missions, even stitching each other up.
Draven... made me a better man, hero, and person overall.
--
I was advised to go to therapy some months after Draven was sent away. I ended up stepping into bigger trouble in hero work. After not only stepping on Logan's toes but crossing a major line with Spider-Man and Tim Drake. That... was definitely a clusterfuck.
Logan was unscathed for the most part.
Spider-Man had cracked ribs and a bad wrist.
Tim Drake had his nose broken.
I ended up with a broken shoulder and concussion.
While in recovery, a counselor and psychologist came in to talk, which I promptly tried to brush off. But that wasn't possible when Peter Parker and Tim Drake wanted to charge me with assault. It was a slap in the face, considering they were colleagues. But an even bigger twist of the knife was that Logan told them to. When it sank in that I was in trouble, I bit my tongue and accepted to be evaluated.
Lucky for me, my sentence was for a year. What I didn't expect was to be housed with Draven... Believe me when I say my stomach did backflips. Mostly the thought he was gonna probably beat the shit out of me for what I did. It was worse that he simply smiled and ignored me... I deserved it but that was a bigger kick than I thought. That year went by slowly but it was a little better knowing that both of us would be out at the same time.
As the day got closer, I tried to figure out what I should say. Because I knew that words needed to be had... even if we played that nothing was wrong anymore. After lights out, he was shaving while I was reading on my side of the cell. With a sigh, I saved my page and put the book down. Now or never...
"Dray?"
No answer.
"Draven?"
Still nothing.
"Indigo."
He stopped mid blade stroke, finished and washed his face. No one knew his hero name... And I only used it when getting his attention. Grabbing a towel and a chair, he sat right in front of my bunk, eyes staring intensely. Four years... and he changed a lot. Aged, a bit of gray in his hair, that warm kindness he had faded to a faint version of before. I felt more intimidated by him. And I was responsible for it.
"Been a while Keith."
His voice was still sweet...
"It has..." I sighed.
"So... what is it that you need to get off your chest?"
"Well... just how has everything been in here?"
He chuckled a little, wiping his face. I admit it made me uneasy. "About as well as you would think. Cooped up in a tiny room with another person, doing the same thing over and over, thinking about what to do when you finally get to step foot outside."
"You have every right to be mad at me. I deserve it. Beat me up, just... do something to tell me that says we can let things go."
Draven gave me a confused look, leaning forward in his seat.
"Do something?"
"Fuck. That came out wrong-"
"The ONLY thing I did was think about what happens after here."
His voice dripped with a rage that hung from each word.
"Dray-"
"Six years Keith. We'd been through everything together. Fighting bad guys, your transition, getting closer and talking about the future. I wanted to marry you. I wanted kids."
The guilt sunk into my stomach again.
"I was angry. Both of us were. I made a fucking mistake by stabbing the one person that stuck up for me through hell with me in the back. I can't take that back. I've been going to therapy but that wasn't enough. I got myself into deep shit and ended up here with you. Life kicked my ass because of the buffer I had, the moral conscience I had. That wasn't there. And I did that to myself and you."
I was on my feet, frustrated and punching at something that wasn't there.
"Keith, the only one torturing themselves here is you. You need me to be angry at you because you're mad at yourself."
"How?! How in the fuck can you be so calm about all of this?"
Draven closed the gap between us, grabbing me up and pushing to the wall. The same anger from that night flashed on his face but I saw something else. He looked sad... As he was holding me, I felt him shaking, both furious and out of bad nerves. After tense silence, he sighed, shoulders dropping as he pulled me into his arms. Out of habit, my arms were around him, face in his neck. We didn't talk for a while, both of us moving to lay down and hold each other.
I didn't deserve this... Definitely not to be forgiven.
"Being bitter over the past wouldn't help me move on." He said to me quietly. "I spent the first two years angry at everything. But no matter how many guys I hit, I wasn't feeling any better. So I started writing in a log book and seeing the cell block therapist. Little by little, I understood why this all happened. It... probably was bound to.
We treated each other well, talked about everything, and eventually forgave each other. But when the cops saw us, it was just a bad wrap. You needed time and circumstance to kick your ass in a way I couldn't. And I needed to be far away from you, even being Indigo, to understand that both of us, somewhere, got kicked by life. Because even the good guys can't save themselves from everything."
"You shouldn't forgive me though. I fucked everything up because I was too stupid to calm down."
He chuckled, kissing my cheek. "Babe, even you know that when we get hot headed, we don't think straight."
"I'm serious, Dray. I got you sent to prison because the cops believed me. Court believed that you were bad to me. Even our friends." I went on. Kicking myself was the only way it felt right to pay him back in my eyes. But Draven wouldn't let me.
"You're right in the fact that nothing's gonna go back to normal. Once we get out of here, it's... gonna be a twisted up life. Technically, we can't be around each other. Two convicts need to be faaar away from each other."
"I'm sensing a but." I teased.
"Other than yours?"
We both had to laugh at that.
"Let's... wait a year. See where it takes us. We can talk over the phone and whatnot. But probably no visiting. Get to remember each other again..."
"Are you gonna be okay with that?"
"I have to be. Even if I wanna just go back to how things were. We both need space after this. Get readjusted to the world."
"I forget out of the two of us, you tend to be smart with this stuff."
"Comes with time."
We laid in bed, talking for way too long about things that didn't matter. I felt myself falling asleep in his arms, hearing him whisper I should get in my own bunk. Though as I moved, we shared a look. With a blush, I went closer to kiss him. How it felt sent me to Jupiter probably... Light, fuzzy, and like I needed him more than air. Understandably, I pulled away when he did. It was too soon... But we knew one thing at least.
We still loved each other.
