*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.