"Crossover II"
Narration by Mel Ann Collie
Recently, I came across a notebook that I kept during the time in my life when I was losing touch with reality. Part One is posted under the Diagnosis Murder section, because my delusions predominantly pertained to the TV series, but now I'm posting Part Two here, since it has more to do with the X-Men. This part of the narration is actually more like a fanfic than the other. What is true is very obvious. What I made up is even more apparent. Though this was once very real to me, it is fiction. In parts, I refer to Diagnosis Murder characters, namely Steve. I do not own this character, nor have I created any of the X-Men characters. Mention of my friend Justin again. Again, I think he'd be fine with it and will deal with me directly if not. This is being published for entertainment purposes only.
Parts of this, I will be unable to record. Some of what I wrote was in magic marker, and the notebook got wet. Most of the pages with marker are now completely blank. There are also pink and blue marks all throughout the notebook now too.
------
August 21 2000
"I know who I am now, Steve," I look into his eyes. "I have a destiny. I'm part of a plan. Let me embrace that."
He held his head in his right hand as he shook it at me. "I can't accept that," he said. "Don't make me believe that you haven't a choice. Because you do. You can fight this..."
"No!" I exclaimed, louder that I expected. "Don't make me fight who I AM! I need this. I know you don't have faith in them, but they are my friends and my brothers. Don't do this to me."
"But they're the X-Men, Kel..."
"DON'T cal me that! That's not who I am!" Taking in a deep breath, I added, "I am She-Wolv! I was never Kel, but I believed I was at my weakest hour. I won't relive that time."
Steve sighed, and breathed. "Then I must leave you."
"I understand," I whispered back.
Steve took me into his arms. One final embrace, one final kiss. And they were indeed final. I would not sacrifice my identity for love. True love didn't require suck.
He looked into my eyes, as if I'd change my mind. But, seeing the stone-cold stare of the beast before him, he turned from me. He exited my car and walked off, without turning back.
Clenching the wheel, I sighed, then smacked my head against the steering column between my hands. How could Steve do this to me? For over two months, two utterly lonely and depressing months, Steve had neglected me. Sure, he was busy, I was busy, but not a word, not a stinking little utterance passed between us. My hero, my protector, my knight in shining armor, had failed me.
He let me fall.
Xavier was there for me though. He found me one day last month, in a dream.
I recall his words.
"Ever wonder why the world despises you? Ever wonder why you're different, why your nerves are of steel and your heart not quite stone? Ever feel an aching in your soul because you don't know who you are?"
He moved forward, out of the dusty shadows in the nowhere-in-particular of my dreams. A bright light illuminates his face and glimmers off the metal of his wheelchair.
"You've suffered greatly in your short existence." He speaks directly to my mind, his lips not moving. "You are confused and weary and full of many sorrows. Come, take my hand."
I had reached for him, but my hand slipped through his holographic image, and he began to fade.
"How can I find you?" I cried out to his fading image.
"I'll send someone for you!" His voice replied, and he was gone.
An unfamiliar scent brought me out of my reminiscing. Someone was closing in on me...
Sabretooth!
I jammed my key into the ignition and turned. The car sputtered but refused to turn over.
"Come on, Starbuck!" I yelled, smacking the wheel as I tried again.
A hand came through the glass of the window beside me. It grabbed my throat and pulled me out of the car.
"Just where do you think YOU'RE going, runt?" Sabretooth sneered as he threw me over the hood of the car. "There's just something I don't like about you."
I leapt to my feet, the way that Justin does and that I could never do before. A growl rumbled in my stomach and roared through my clenched teeth. I bared my adamantium fangs.
"You don't thrill me either," I grumbled. I smashed my wrists together and snapped them to my sides. A knife flew out of each sleeve, and I grabbed them in my fists before they dropped.
I lunged at him. My blades slashed into his chest, and he howled. Grabbing my arms, he flipped me over his head.
To his surprise, I landed on my feet. I twirled around and kicked his midsection. Sabretooth toppled over like a bowling pin, like the pinhead he is. I didn't give him a moment to breath. I threw myself into him before he could form a thought.
He grabbed my wrists as they neared his face. He held me back from his face and laughed. Jerking my head back, I growled. My head snapped forward and connected with his forehead. His grip loosened, and I freed myself.
"You'll pay," I grumbled, about to slice his face open.
"X-Man! Stop!" Xavier's voice racked my brain. "Return to me!"
Sighing, I let Sabretooth go. His head dropped to the ground. I hopped into my car, leaving Sabretooth laying in his blood to heal.
---
Not a single bruise from that encounter. One didn't even have time to form.
How long have I had this ability?
Back in seventh grade, my young, hormone-crazed boyfriend had tried to... do more with me than I wanted to do. He took me down into this incline, trapped me in this huge box.
Until recently, I never knew what happened after that. I escaped, yes. But how?
---
"Hey, sugar!" I remember the first time I heard Rogue's voice. I was sitting in the canteen in Gambrell between classes. She broke my concentration with those words. Utterly peeved, I glared up at her.
I gave her a smile of contempt.
Rogue laughed. Seating herself across from me at the table, she said, "You're DEFINITELY the She-Wolf!"
I didn't know what she was talking about. And this girl was getting on my nerves. "Go away!"
"Ever wonder why the world despises you?"
I had returned my attention to my homework.
"Ever wonder why you're different, why your nerves are of steel and your heart not quite stone?"
I recognized these words. The old man in the dream.
I studied this mysterious girl. Her chestnut hair had a streak of white down the font, and it flowed over her broad, strong shoulders. She was tough; it was obvious just looking at her. Tough as nails.
She wore a scarf around her neck, a long silver one that shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the canteen. She had a black tank top on under a beaten up leather jacket. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her, and they were hidden beneath soft black gloves.
"Who are you?" I questioned.
"Rogue. The Professor sent me here for you."
I automatically know who the professor was, though I don't know how I knew she was talking about the old guy.
"Let's go."
-----
My cell phone rang as I sped away from Sabretooth. I jumped but answered it immediately.
"He doesn't want to call you," Jean Grey told me, "but he needs help."
"Who?"
"Logan. He went into town tonight, because of a phone call. The girl said she was Silver Fox."
"But she's dead!"
"Logan's always had this hope that... that she didn't really die. He keeps thinking she'll come back to him. The police are after him now. They think he committed some crime. It's prejudice. You're close-by. Can you go pick him up?"
I signed. "Sure, I'll go save the jerk! Where is he?"
"Hiding by Solo, the gas station. Just wait out there for him. And hurry!"
Jean hung up. I saw that Solo was quickly coming up on my left. I turned into the parking lot. I sat and waiting for fifteen minutes.
Just then, a beam of light spills into the car, and somebody knocks on my door. I roll down the window and see a cop.
He looks at me suspiciously. "Hi," he says. "I'm with the sheriff's department. I notice you've been parked here for a while. Are you waiting for someone?"
"No," I replied, holding up a notebook. I caught a glance at the gas station and saw the cashier staring back at me. When she saw that I had seen her, she stepped away from the window and turned around.
"I was just writing," I told the officer.
He moved the flashlight beam through my car. Nothing special to see. Just my new purse, a heap of garbage on the floor in front of the passenger's seat, and clothes strewn throughout the hatchback. He must have caught the fowl mildewed stench of the carpet beneath my leaky air conditioner, because he stepped back.
"Can I see your driver's license?" he asked.
Nodding, I reached into my purse and retrieved the card. He studied the front, then flipped it over.
"So you live on Covenant road?"
I shook my head. "I just moved to Gaston a few weeks ago, to the address on the front of the license."
Returning the license to me, he said, "We just had someone running from the POlice." His hideous South Carolina accent stuck on the last word of the sentence. "Nobody called you to have you pick them up?"
"No."
"Okay, thank you," the hick cop sauntered away.
I sighed, and my eyes fell upon the gas station window. Again the cashier moved away.
Where was Wolverine? Did I REALLY have to stick my neck out like this for him?
Minutes later, another cop came knocking at the door, a younger one this time. I told him another officer had just talked to me, but he didn't seem to care. He went through the same questions, I answered, and he left.
Just as he did, the gas station's lights turned off. Closed for the night.
The passenger's door opened, and a figure slinked in. He pulled the door shut behind him.
"Wait," his gruff whisper ordered. I sat there doodling with the pen and notebook until... "Okay, NOW go."
I backed out of the parking space and got back on the road.
"What the heck took..."
"Shut up!" Wolverine hissed at me. "I'm not here!"
[Here I drew a picture of the She-Wolv with Wolverine in the car, BOTH looking pissed]
He slinked under the dashboard.
"We have someone on our tail," I announced through clenched teeth and still lips.
"Lose 'em."
"They saw my license. They know where I live."
"So? I don't care."
"Listen, runt!" I raised my voice.
"Shut your cake hole!" Wolverine exclaimed. "You're talking to yourself. You sure it's a cop following you?"
I sighed. Bopping my head along to a nonexistent beat, I sang, "Who would hail a car going twenty in a forty zone when he can pass, you moron?"
"Cute," Wolverine huffed.
I turned onto Woodtrail, as did the car behind me. When I got onto Philipsboro, a dirt road, the car did not follow. Wolverine slid into the seat beside me.
"Fantastic driving!" he commented as I took a corner at forty and lost control of the car temporarily.
"Shut up!"
I stopped the car. "Cops will be at the house you know. You should get out of here."
Wolverine slid out the door, and I went home.
Narration by Mel Ann Collie
Recently, I came across a notebook that I kept during the time in my life when I was losing touch with reality. Part One is posted under the Diagnosis Murder section, because my delusions predominantly pertained to the TV series, but now I'm posting Part Two here, since it has more to do with the X-Men. This part of the narration is actually more like a fanfic than the other. What is true is very obvious. What I made up is even more apparent. Though this was once very real to me, it is fiction. In parts, I refer to Diagnosis Murder characters, namely Steve. I do not own this character, nor have I created any of the X-Men characters. Mention of my friend Justin again. Again, I think he'd be fine with it and will deal with me directly if not. This is being published for entertainment purposes only.
Parts of this, I will be unable to record. Some of what I wrote was in magic marker, and the notebook got wet. Most of the pages with marker are now completely blank. There are also pink and blue marks all throughout the notebook now too.
------
August 21 2000
"I know who I am now, Steve," I look into his eyes. "I have a destiny. I'm part of a plan. Let me embrace that."
He held his head in his right hand as he shook it at me. "I can't accept that," he said. "Don't make me believe that you haven't a choice. Because you do. You can fight this..."
"No!" I exclaimed, louder that I expected. "Don't make me fight who I AM! I need this. I know you don't have faith in them, but they are my friends and my brothers. Don't do this to me."
"But they're the X-Men, Kel..."
"DON'T cal me that! That's not who I am!" Taking in a deep breath, I added, "I am She-Wolv! I was never Kel, but I believed I was at my weakest hour. I won't relive that time."
Steve sighed, and breathed. "Then I must leave you."
"I understand," I whispered back.
Steve took me into his arms. One final embrace, one final kiss. And they were indeed final. I would not sacrifice my identity for love. True love didn't require suck.
He looked into my eyes, as if I'd change my mind. But, seeing the stone-cold stare of the beast before him, he turned from me. He exited my car and walked off, without turning back.
Clenching the wheel, I sighed, then smacked my head against the steering column between my hands. How could Steve do this to me? For over two months, two utterly lonely and depressing months, Steve had neglected me. Sure, he was busy, I was busy, but not a word, not a stinking little utterance passed between us. My hero, my protector, my knight in shining armor, had failed me.
He let me fall.
Xavier was there for me though. He found me one day last month, in a dream.
I recall his words.
"Ever wonder why the world despises you? Ever wonder why you're different, why your nerves are of steel and your heart not quite stone? Ever feel an aching in your soul because you don't know who you are?"
He moved forward, out of the dusty shadows in the nowhere-in-particular of my dreams. A bright light illuminates his face and glimmers off the metal of his wheelchair.
"You've suffered greatly in your short existence." He speaks directly to my mind, his lips not moving. "You are confused and weary and full of many sorrows. Come, take my hand."
I had reached for him, but my hand slipped through his holographic image, and he began to fade.
"How can I find you?" I cried out to his fading image.
"I'll send someone for you!" His voice replied, and he was gone.
An unfamiliar scent brought me out of my reminiscing. Someone was closing in on me...
Sabretooth!
I jammed my key into the ignition and turned. The car sputtered but refused to turn over.
"Come on, Starbuck!" I yelled, smacking the wheel as I tried again.
A hand came through the glass of the window beside me. It grabbed my throat and pulled me out of the car.
"Just where do you think YOU'RE going, runt?" Sabretooth sneered as he threw me over the hood of the car. "There's just something I don't like about you."
I leapt to my feet, the way that Justin does and that I could never do before. A growl rumbled in my stomach and roared through my clenched teeth. I bared my adamantium fangs.
"You don't thrill me either," I grumbled. I smashed my wrists together and snapped them to my sides. A knife flew out of each sleeve, and I grabbed them in my fists before they dropped.
I lunged at him. My blades slashed into his chest, and he howled. Grabbing my arms, he flipped me over his head.
To his surprise, I landed on my feet. I twirled around and kicked his midsection. Sabretooth toppled over like a bowling pin, like the pinhead he is. I didn't give him a moment to breath. I threw myself into him before he could form a thought.
He grabbed my wrists as they neared his face. He held me back from his face and laughed. Jerking my head back, I growled. My head snapped forward and connected with his forehead. His grip loosened, and I freed myself.
"You'll pay," I grumbled, about to slice his face open.
"X-Man! Stop!" Xavier's voice racked my brain. "Return to me!"
Sighing, I let Sabretooth go. His head dropped to the ground. I hopped into my car, leaving Sabretooth laying in his blood to heal.
---
Not a single bruise from that encounter. One didn't even have time to form.
How long have I had this ability?
Back in seventh grade, my young, hormone-crazed boyfriend had tried to... do more with me than I wanted to do. He took me down into this incline, trapped me in this huge box.
Until recently, I never knew what happened after that. I escaped, yes. But how?
---
"Hey, sugar!" I remember the first time I heard Rogue's voice. I was sitting in the canteen in Gambrell between classes. She broke my concentration with those words. Utterly peeved, I glared up at her.
I gave her a smile of contempt.
Rogue laughed. Seating herself across from me at the table, she said, "You're DEFINITELY the She-Wolf!"
I didn't know what she was talking about. And this girl was getting on my nerves. "Go away!"
"Ever wonder why the world despises you?"
I had returned my attention to my homework.
"Ever wonder why you're different, why your nerves are of steel and your heart not quite stone?"
I recognized these words. The old man in the dream.
I studied this mysterious girl. Her chestnut hair had a streak of white down the font, and it flowed over her broad, strong shoulders. She was tough; it was obvious just looking at her. Tough as nails.
She wore a scarf around her neck, a long silver one that shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the canteen. She had a black tank top on under a beaten up leather jacket. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her, and they were hidden beneath soft black gloves.
"Who are you?" I questioned.
"Rogue. The Professor sent me here for you."
I automatically know who the professor was, though I don't know how I knew she was talking about the old guy.
"Let's go."
-----
My cell phone rang as I sped away from Sabretooth. I jumped but answered it immediately.
"He doesn't want to call you," Jean Grey told me, "but he needs help."
"Who?"
"Logan. He went into town tonight, because of a phone call. The girl said she was Silver Fox."
"But she's dead!"
"Logan's always had this hope that... that she didn't really die. He keeps thinking she'll come back to him. The police are after him now. They think he committed some crime. It's prejudice. You're close-by. Can you go pick him up?"
I signed. "Sure, I'll go save the jerk! Where is he?"
"Hiding by Solo, the gas station. Just wait out there for him. And hurry!"
Jean hung up. I saw that Solo was quickly coming up on my left. I turned into the parking lot. I sat and waiting for fifteen minutes.
Just then, a beam of light spills into the car, and somebody knocks on my door. I roll down the window and see a cop.
He looks at me suspiciously. "Hi," he says. "I'm with the sheriff's department. I notice you've been parked here for a while. Are you waiting for someone?"
"No," I replied, holding up a notebook. I caught a glance at the gas station and saw the cashier staring back at me. When she saw that I had seen her, she stepped away from the window and turned around.
"I was just writing," I told the officer.
He moved the flashlight beam through my car. Nothing special to see. Just my new purse, a heap of garbage on the floor in front of the passenger's seat, and clothes strewn throughout the hatchback. He must have caught the fowl mildewed stench of the carpet beneath my leaky air conditioner, because he stepped back.
"Can I see your driver's license?" he asked.
Nodding, I reached into my purse and retrieved the card. He studied the front, then flipped it over.
"So you live on Covenant road?"
I shook my head. "I just moved to Gaston a few weeks ago, to the address on the front of the license."
Returning the license to me, he said, "We just had someone running from the POlice." His hideous South Carolina accent stuck on the last word of the sentence. "Nobody called you to have you pick them up?"
"No."
"Okay, thank you," the hick cop sauntered away.
I sighed, and my eyes fell upon the gas station window. Again the cashier moved away.
Where was Wolverine? Did I REALLY have to stick my neck out like this for him?
Minutes later, another cop came knocking at the door, a younger one this time. I told him another officer had just talked to me, but he didn't seem to care. He went through the same questions, I answered, and he left.
Just as he did, the gas station's lights turned off. Closed for the night.
The passenger's door opened, and a figure slinked in. He pulled the door shut behind him.
"Wait," his gruff whisper ordered. I sat there doodling with the pen and notebook until... "Okay, NOW go."
I backed out of the parking space and got back on the road.
"What the heck took..."
"Shut up!" Wolverine hissed at me. "I'm not here!"
[Here I drew a picture of the She-Wolv with Wolverine in the car, BOTH looking pissed]
He slinked under the dashboard.
"We have someone on our tail," I announced through clenched teeth and still lips.
"Lose 'em."
"They saw my license. They know where I live."
"So? I don't care."
"Listen, runt!" I raised my voice.
"Shut your cake hole!" Wolverine exclaimed. "You're talking to yourself. You sure it's a cop following you?"
I sighed. Bopping my head along to a nonexistent beat, I sang, "Who would hail a car going twenty in a forty zone when he can pass, you moron?"
"Cute," Wolverine huffed.
I turned onto Woodtrail, as did the car behind me. When I got onto Philipsboro, a dirt road, the car did not follow. Wolverine slid into the seat beside me.
"Fantastic driving!" he commented as I took a corner at forty and lost control of the car temporarily.
"Shut up!"
I stopped the car. "Cops will be at the house you know. You should get out of here."
Wolverine slid out the door, and I went home.