disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever in any way owned the X-Men. If I did, I would be rich and have lots more time to write about them. This is a work of fiction based on the X-Men comic book owned by Marvel Comics Group and I expect to recieve absolutely no monetary compensation for it. Dammit.


pre-note: There will be many original characters in this story that may seem familiar. Most have had bit parts in other stories and didn't even get a name, or not much more than a name. I took this story as an opportunity to flesh out some of these bit characters a little more. Some of you may be aware that I've done this sort of "recycling" before; in fact, I do it with almost every story. Guess what I'm getting at is the same warning I've been giving a lot lately: though some of the original characters in this story may be familiar and be in familiar situations, this story is not to be considered a sequel to any of my others.

Farewell Sunshine
by Dizi

Chapter 1

The girl on the bed is probably the most beautiful sixteen-year-old I have ever seen. Professionally, I mean. The bandage around her head doesn't detract, though it might if I had ever seen her without it. Even better would have been to have seen her walking down the street, laughing and chatting with other kids her age, maybe wearing clothes more suitable for a much older person and too much make-up - but what do I know, I don't wear make-up - being like other girls.

However, I know she would never be like other girls. Not before what had happened to her and never again. Since she's entirely yellow from head to toe, she is an obvious mutant and would never be treated as a normal girl. Someday that might be different, but not now, not yet.

My job is to treat her like any other though. As a member of the Salem Center Police Department, Violent Crimes, I have to treat her as any other victim. It's not that hard for me. I'm a rebel, you see. I don't care if a vic is white, brown, or black. Even worse, I don't care if they're blue, green, or yellow.

The doctor on the other side of the bed has been droning on. It may not appear I've been listening, but I have. All the information is just going to another part of my brain and will be available when I need it. No, I'm not a mutant. It's a learned skill. I don't really understand all the medical mumbo-jumbo, but it's there anyway.

He's become quiet now. I know him from other cases so I understand he's about to change lanes and give an opinion instead of more of the dry medical information. He does it that way to divorce himself from the patient. As a trauma doctor, Phillip Goski tries to keep his personal feelings out of the hospital. It's too hard for him to sleep at night otherwise.

"She might live, her surface injuries might heal, but she'll ever wake up." His eyes meet mine and I can see the anger in them. "If I had been called sooner, there might have been a chance, with head injuries every second counts. But they left her lying on a bed in a far off corner of the emergency room and ignored her. I don't know if they were scared or just didn't want to help her because she's a mutant."

"That would be criminal negligence," I tell him quietly. "Give me some names and I'll at least be able to scare them so they won't do it ever again."

"I don't know who it really was. Everyone acted shocked." Sighing, Phil shakes his head. "It would be the end of my career if I did know and told you. No one will care that I treated a mutant, but getting someone else's license in jeopardy would be unforgivable."

I nod because I know exactly what he means. Being a mutant 'sympathizer' is now politically correct but getting those in trouble who aren't isn't. "Well, let me know if you ever find out and they'll end up with their cars being a bull's eye for the traffic cops."

His mouth quirks in humor but he doesn't manage a smile. It's not really funny.

Time to get back to business. "So tell me what you can about our yellow girl here, this time in plain English."

"The paramedics were called about a drowning victim in the park. She wasn't breathing and they did CPR to bring her back. It's unknown how long she might have been oxygen deprived, but she's a fighter or she'd be dead now. Since she was naked as the day she was born, I did a vaginal examination and she was definitely raped. I have to assume the water or the clean-up in Emergency took any evidence there might have been, sorry." He sighed again, and I know it's because it will make my job harder. Phil's got a soft spot for pretty girls, and I've already said she's beautiful. "The head injury is older and it's my opinion it happened before she got into the water, maybe before she was raped. Considering that she'll either be dead or a vegetable for whatever time she has, it might have been kinder if her attacker had killed her."

I don't answer that, I don't need to. The words sound cruel but they're not meant that way. It's no life to lay in a hospital bed 'sleeping' forever. "Do you know what park she was found at?"

"Yeah, it was Jenkins National." Picking up his clipboard, Dr. Goski spares a last look for the still form on the bed. "I have other patients. I'll write up a report and fax it to your department."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll call if I need more information and please let me know if there's any change in her condition." From the corner of my eye, I see him nod as he walks out the door.

There'd been no need to tell him to call me, he would have anyway. My attention isn't on him though, I'm looking at the girl. She's already more than a case to me, which isn't out of the ordinary. They're never cases, they're people. This girl had something happen to her that shouldn't have. It was wrong, flat out wrong. Normal human or mutant, vegetable or traumatized, this girl's life was changed and would never be the same. No one had the right to do that to another, and is the exact reason I became a cop. Right now, this moment, she embodies everything that offends me because she is a victim and what I hate most are perps that think they have the right to do whatever they want to someone else. There's nothing I like better than finding those perps and showing them they're wrong.

"Sanchez, we're going to that mutant school, aren't we?"

That's my partner, Frickman, Bob. He's a little slow. Where else does he think we're going to start looking but at a school which specializes in teaching mutants when the vic is bright yellow all over? Especially when the river running through Jenkins National connects directly to the lake on the grounds? "Yeah, we're going to Xavier's."


When we arrive the place is quiet. Maybe because it's a school day, this is a school, and all the kids are in class. Where the victim should be.

Her being a mutant doesn't bother me, just like being at the school doesn't bother me. Having a young girl approximately sixteen years of age raped and her head bashed in does. There being no missing persons report on her does. I called in and checked, and there's definitely not one.

Dr. Goski, during that time I was only paying half attention, said she was healthy and well groomed - from what he could tell after her being in the river for hours. This, along with the already mentioned detail about where she was found, tells me she's not homeless. The majority of rapes are from someone who knows the victim. She's not from the homeless shelter - there's only one that accepts mutants here - so she's from Xavier's School for the Gifted. Most likely her attacker is too. Knowing this doesn't make my job easier.

It suddenly occurs to me to wonder if the girl has any powers. Did she like what she was or hate being different? Did she just look different or was there more to her? Was she one of those which people are afraid will become another Magneto? Or was she as vulnerable as any one else on the street? Most people think all mutants have powers, but I know better. These questions were going on my list. It was getting longer by the second.

An Asian woman with blue eyes led us into a waiting room outside the administrative offices. I knew her. Well, not really, but I knew who she was. She and her husband hang out in the same bars I do. Small world. Not.

"She's a real looker," Frickman comments in admiration.

Not being able to help it, I roll my eyes. We're on an investigation and he's thinking with his dick like usual. How'd I get stuck with him as a partner?

Oh yeah, I remember. My last partner really was a dick. A bigoted, chauvinistic bastard, who hadn't been thrilled with having a woman for a partner. He didn't like that I had an IQ bigger than his penis size - which I personally believe was about two inches - and liked it even less when he made a pass and I turned him down without thinking about it. Over and over again. Things went further downhill when two months later I'd had enough and went to my captain complaining about sexual harassment. To get back at me, Peterman had told everyone who would listen that I was a man-hating dyke before he transferred to homicide. Which no one really believed, but left Frickman as the only one willing to work with me. That's how.

Lucky me. I'm stuck with the immature boob. He's only made a comment about my sex life once and learned quickly never to do it again. Other people's is something else.

The man himself, Charles Xavier, rolled in a few minutes later with a blond woman dressed all in white at his side. Everyone had heard about Emma Frost. On the surface, we seem to be a lot alike, both of us being ball-busters - she just moves in higher circles than I do. Thinking about it, I guess that's all we have in common because I understand from a close personal friend that she's a snob. Not to mention, she has more money than I can ever dream of.

"Officers," Xavier greeted us politely. "How can we help you?"

"Yes," Frost said with a little sniff. "What crime has been committed this time that the police want to lay at our door?"

Damn, I'd been inclined to like her until then. Too bad. I won't let my personal feelings influence me during the investigation though. Much. "It's Detectives, actually. Sanchez and Frickman. And that would depend, you missing anyone?"

Frowning, Xavier didn't answer. I was about to repeat my question less politely, but I guess he was only thinking because he finally said, "Not that I'm aware of. Emma?"

She hesitated, not wanting to say anything I could tell. Couldn't blame her too much though, and I might have been a little quick to take offense. Some cops do try to 'take the easy road' and blame every case they get on the school. Mutants are a good scapegoat. How was she to know I'm not like that? When I was a beat cop, just about all the vics blamed the mutants too. So I'll give her another chance and just call her initial comment Strike One.

"Marian Jessup missed class this morning. But I can't possibly believe she's done anything illegal." She raised one eyebrow in challenge, daring me to say she was wrong.

I was impressed, not many women can do the eyebrow thing well.

"Can you give us a description of Miss Jessup?" Frickman was practically drooling at Frost's abnormally large cleavage showing from her deep neckline so low as to almost be cited for indecent exposure. But he'd asked the right question, so he was improving. Slowly.

"In a word, yellow." Frost shrugged. "She's not hard to miss."

"Sunshine," Xavier said softly.

The nickname was perfect for the girl. 'Sunshine' was how I would think of her from now on, but 'Marian Jessup' would have to be the name I would put on the official reports. My captain frowned on being too familiar with the victims. What can I say? I'm a naughty girl myself. I'll probably burn out within a couple more years but I can't see myself not caring about the victims on a personal level.

"Then I have to inform you, Marian Jessup is currently at St. Joe's Hospital. She hasn't committed a crime, she's a victim. Can you tell us how long she's been missing?"

"What did those hicks in town do to her?" Frost demanded, getting in my face. Strike Two.

"We're investigating and don't yet know who the perpetrator is at this time." My voice was calm with enough force to let her know I wasn't intimidated and wouldn't give an inch. "Again, can you tell me how long she's been missing?"

"What's happened to her?" she snarled, ignoring my question.

"Ma'am, we can't give you that information. If you'll tell us how to contact her parents we would be happy to inform them. Then if they want to share with you, they can. In the meantime, how long has she been missing?" I was saying the right words but I wasn't being friendly anymore. I didn't need to make friends, Sunshine needed me to find her attacker.

"The school is her guardian, since her mutant-phobic parents sent her here and washed their hands of her. That means I am the person you need to talk to. Now."

Okay, I won't count that as Strike Three just because she has a right to know. But it was a close decision. "Marian Jessup was raped, assaulted, and dumped in the river. She was found four hours ago at Jenkins National Park. Her doctor is calling her condition a vegetative coma, but isn't sure if it's because she was oxygen deprived from drowning or due to her head being bludgeoned. Detective Frickman and myself are investigating the crime and intend to find the perp whoever they might be. Can you please tell us how long she's been missing so we can attempt to pinpoint the time of her attack?"

Maybe I was a trifle blunt. The woman took several steps back and grabbed hold of a chair, as though to stay steady on her feet. Some mean part of me was sure the last part was an act, but I didn't let it show as she responded, "I don't know. It was reported to me that she hadn't shown up for class only half an hour ago."

So I could forgive the lack of a missing persons report. She hadn't had time to file one. "Does she have a roommate?"

"No, Sunshine is a good student and has been here a couple years now. She's earned the privilege of having a private room," Xavier answered, his voice shaking a little. "The school will take full financial responsibility for her hospitalization and future care. I'll need the name of her physician and any other pertinent information."

It didn't get past my notice that he didn't say anything about wanting to see her. Sunshine may have been a good student, but I was getting the impression that was all she was to them. Horror at a violent crime didn't count, if they had cared about her he wouldn't have immediately brought up finances. It was something to think about. "His name is Dr. Phillip Goski. Frickman can give you his number while I look at her room, if someone will show me the way."

"Emma." Xavier said her name as an order. Straightening, she led the way to an office, Frickman following the ice queen like the horny dog he was. Not until the door shut, leaving us alone, did Xavier speak again. "You must forgive Emma's behavior. She's in charge of the girls and takes her position seriously. It seems the only time we see the police is when they come here blaming a crime on our students."

Yeah, she took her position 'seriously', but I bet she didn't see her students as people. They were just part of the responsibilities of her job. I got that already. "I understand and I can only promise you that I am very serious about this case. Shall we go to Sunshine's room now?"

He didn't blink, didn't make a move. "Is that really necessary? I don't want my school disrupted."

"Professor Xavier, it's very possible her bedroom is a crime scene but I don't know that yet. No matter what, there will be some 'disruption'." He had just been told a heinous crime had been committed against a young teen under his school's guardianship and he was worried about interrupting class? Too damn bad. "We'll need to talk to everyone here who ever had contact with her. Friends, enemies, teachers, students who passed her in the hall, everyone. We'll need to have a forensics team go over her room with a fine tooth comb. But first I would like to take a look at the potential crime scene."

"You think the person who did this is someone in my school." It was a dry statement and he still didn't look like he was going to do as I asked.

"Would you like me to quote statistics?" I was pretty sure he didn't, nobody ever did. "Crimes like this are frequently committed by someone who knows the victim. Marian Jessup may have gone to town on occasion but none of the students here stays there long. I'm sure you have good security and would know if anyone from town were to come calling."

"We keep a log of all visitors, no matter how casual," he confirmed stiffly.

"I'll want to see that and check on any recent visitors. Regardless, she's from here and here is where we need to start." How much clearer than that could I get? I let it be known I conceded the perp could be from outside the premises but I have to consider all.

"I find the implication one of my students or a member of my faculty did this to be extremely insulting." Xavier did sound indignant.

"I can live with that. Personally, I find the fact that Marian Jessup is lying in a hospital bed and will be for however long or short the rest of her life might be, to be insulting both to me and everyone else. I intend to find out who did it and put them away for a very long time. What I'm asking for is your help. Starting with viewing her room." Now, I was angry and I'm sure I sounded like it. Where was his indignation about what had happened to Sunshine? Was I the only one thinking about her?

"Detective Sanchez, under the circumstances, I'll have to insist on a search warrant. For the logbook as well." As he spoke, Frost and Frickman came out of the office and the outer door opened to the Asian woman again. I realized he'd been stalling long enough for Frost to pump my partner dry, figuratively. He'd gotten all the info he wanted and I was left with nothing. "Mrs. Logan will show you the way out, Detectives. I wish you a good day."

It wouldn't have surprised me if steam had come out my ears, I was so mad. But I didn't have a choice. Stomping my feet the whole way, I left.

The woman kept looking at me as though she wanted to say something but didn't. Before she closed the door behind me, I turned to her, "Tell your husband he owes me fifty bucks. The name's Sanchez and he'll find me at Harry's tonight."

I let Frickman drive because I didn't trust myself behind the wheel. He was smart enough to keep quiet until we were out of the drive, then he had the stupidity to ask, "So we go back to the station and contact the A.D.A.?"

Closing my eyes, I silently counted to ten to keep from hurting him. "Yes, Frickman, we do. He wants a warrant, then a warrant he will get."

to be continued.


note: Obviously this story isn't going to be fun and games, huh? Due to the serious undertone and some language, I'm giving it a teen rating but if I get enough feedback disagreeing with that then I'll raise the rating. I'm considering it a little borderline and will accept input as to which side of the line it should be on.

Several AU aspects going on here, a little merging of some of my own storylines. It's set after "The Journey Home" but not crossed with "What Might Have Been". Other things you'll see on your own as the story unfolds. As usual I've put my own twist to some aspects of Marvel characters as I felt the story needed, nothing extreme but you've already gotten a taste of it with Charles Xavier.

Alright, almost done just a couple more things. First, don't expect last minute miracles. That's all I'm saying about it. Second, I'll start pointing out where some original characters... well, originated. However I'll do it a chapter or so away to give you the opportunity to figure it out yourself. (Extra points for whoever can pinpoint Sunshine!) Honestly, even I am not entirely sure who all has been used in the past and who hasn't, so it's possible you will recognize some where I have forgotten.

Well, that's all I've got for now. Next chapter is next week.

Thanks for reading and the support,
Dizi