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 receive absolutely no monetary compensation for it. Dammit.

Farewell Sunshine
by Dizi

Chapter 4

Have you ever been fired? Walked out in front of your friends and colleagues right after? Had to hold your head up despite the shame?

There was no reason for me to be ashamed. I hadn't done anything wrong. Well, I had, but not really. As a cop I shouldn't have to go around the Mayor and Chief of Police to catch a criminal. I'm not a politician, I'm a police detective. We're supposed to use all our resources to get the job done, I did that. The job isn't meant to have an agenda. I've done nothing to be ashamed of.

But I feel it. I can't help it, the shame is there. A queasiness turning my stomach very unlike the cramps from before. I wanted to throw up.

Not gripping to lead the way but resting kindly for support, Captain DeCarlo's hand is on my shoulder. As a gentleman, he's carrying my jacket. I was too numb to put it on, but I hadn't known how naked I would feel without my badge and gun. Almost as though I have no clothes on. Just another bit of shame and embarrassment.

As we pass by desks, some officers stand in acknowledgment and others don't. Popularity has never been my goal, must be like Frickman because I tend to rub the wrong way. Weis stands and I thought he hated me. Ansley looks stricken and Frickman is blank for once. And the feelings heighten more.

Tough woman I am, there's not a hint of tears. Their last sight of me will be standing tall with my head up. No shame here. I have my pride. It's working on automatic.

Outside the weather is warm, but I shiver anyway.

DeCarlo hesitates before putting my jacket around my shoulders, saying quietly, "I'm sorry."

Nodding because I understand that after his little speech in his office, we continue to my car.

He opens the door for me, closing it after I get in.

Though the keys are in my hand, I don't move to start the motor. Where do I go? What do I do? My time is my own. What am I supposed to do with it? Being a cop is my life. I don't know anything else. I'm... empty.

Thankfully, a knock on the window distracts me from not thinking. It's Frickman.

Rolling down the window, I can see he has something in his hands. As soon as it's down enough, he's shoving a ziplock through. It takes a moment to realize what it is. Cookies from Mrs. Skinner. She gave us both a large bag stuffed full. Another one lands in my lap, half empty.

"I thought you can eat them and veg while you figure things out." Proud of himself, Frickman's face is shining.

Doesn't seem like much, but it's a sacrifice on his part. The white chocolate-walnut cookies are good. I know because I ate one. Had to lock them in my desk drawer to keep them relatively safe and immediately caught Weis trying to pick the lock. And here was Frickman giving me my cookies and his own. I was touched. He had to break into my desk to do it, but I'm touched.

"Ansley's going to clear out your desk and bring you your stuff so you don't have to come back." His voice lowered conspiratorially. "He's worried about you, but I told him you're too strong for that. I know this won't keep you down long."

I have to swallow to get past the lump in my throat. Frickman has faith in me. How about that? I don't.

Maybe it showed on my face, I don't have much control at the moment. He gives me his typical lopsided grin, the same one that usually irritates me. But right now, I don't care he's a little boy in a man's body. "You'll be kicking butt wherever you end up. That's the way you are, Sanchez."

A boy giving his big sister encouraging words as best he can. My own little brothers never did that. Heck, neither did my older brothers or any of my sisters. Frickman deserved a little white lie. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Go home and eat your cookies, maybe get drunk. In the morning you can figure it all out."

Smiling, though not a real smile, I start the car. He's beaming at me as I drive down the road. My captain... no, not mine anymore... DeCarlo was right, Frickman has potential. I just won't be there to see where it takes him.

A little more of those bad feelings pile on.

I went home.

I ate a couple cookies.

But my life in its current condition isn't a cookie problem. I don't want to think about it. How my life is shit. How I no longer have a life. How my mother would try to find me a 'good husband' as soon as I told her.

I'm not wife material. Don't want to be. All I need in a man is a boy-toy or fuck-buddy. That's it. Someone who expects me to cook his dinner and clean his house would get shot. Unlike with Frickman, I'd want it to be lethal. Hundreds of hours spent at the shooting range have left me with very good aim, so then I'd be in jail. Where I used to put perps. I can't get away from it.

The phone rings for fifteen minutes straight. I don't want to talk to anyone.

That's when I remember how all this started and what's it's really about. Logan was going to call me so I could work Sunshine's case. Since I'm no longer a cop, I can't work the case. I don't care if it's him calling anymore.

But Sunshine is something else. The connection I felt before is still there. Who's going to care about her? Who's going to get her justice? Who'll be with her when she dies?

My apartment is beginning to make me feel agoraphobic and I can't stand listening to the phone ring, I have to get out. Automatically, I put on my jacket to cover the gun which isn't there. Under the circumstances, being armed may not be the wisest course, but I don't feel right without one. Going to my gunsafe and I pull out a personal spare. It's licensed, if that makes a difference.

Then I grab the cookies. Who cares if it's a cookie problem or not? They're good. I have to remember to send a thank-you note to Mrs. Skinner.

With Sunshine on my mind, I go to the hospital. She's still in the plush room. Like she cares. She's in a fricking coma! What difference does it make what the room looks like?

Coffee in hand - don't you know all cops drink coffee? - and cookies on a side table, I sit beside her with the TV muted. Not sure why the TV was turned on, but there's nothing to watch. Pretty sure Sunshine doesn't care about that either.

Unable to resist, I touch her arm. Her skin feels like anyone else's, just a different color. Working with a bunch of white men, I can relate. Maybe not completely, my brown skin is more accepted, but it's something else to have in common. Another tie.

She doesn't know me from shit. I'm just the cop - who's no longer a cop - who got the call. That's all I was supposed to be. If I hadn't taken her personally, I would still be a cop. Would anyone have stood up for her then? I shouldn't dwell on it. No longer any business of mine. But I'm here anyway.

"Visiting hours are over."

Dr. Phil Goski's standing beside me, didn't even hear him come in. Some cop I am... was.

Picking up a cookie from the table, I hold it up. "Want one?"

"Sure." He's quiet for a moment, nibbling. "It's good. You make them?"

"Yeah, right." Do I need to have the 'wife' discussion with him? I couldn't bake to save my life. "Gift from a perp's mom. Long story."

"Okay." Dusting off his hands, Goski's deliberately not looking at me. "You can talk to her, you know."

I'm guessing he knows what happened an hour or so ago. If he doesn't bring it up, I won't. "She won't hear me."

"Makes her a good listener. Great quality in a teenager."

Oh, he knows alright. I make sure there's a note of finality in my response. "She's got enough problems of her own."

Goski just nods. It's not his business and he's got his own problems too. Any trauma doctor does. "You're not her only visitor anymore."

"Oh?" Do I really care at this point? Yep. It's nice to know someone gives a damn about her. Besides me, that is.

"Tall guy, red glasses and a big black guy with an 'M' tattooed on his face. Ring any bells?"

Not a one. "Probably from the school. They wouldn't let me talk to anyone, so I can't say for sure, but where else would they come from?"

"Maybe they'll come back and you can question them."

Possibly I was wrong and he doesn't know. Don't think he'd be that cruel. Lord, this means I have to say it. "Got in trouble for that. They took my badge. It's not my case, I don't have any cases." Closing my eyes briefly, I repeat, "They took my badge."

"Take me out of the hospital and I'm still a doctor. It's what I am." He's looking at me intently now, trying to say something I'm not getting. "Doesn't change who you are, Sanchez."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" I sound petulant and don't care. I deserve to whine. "I'm not a cop anymore. I did what I could and they knocked me down. I'm out of it."

Quiet for several minutes, Goski stares at Sunshine. He's still looking at her when he speaks again. "Jordan called and told me she's his case now. He didn't ask about anything but how long she has."

Pete Jordan. He was one of the men who didn't stand for me. A mutant hater and most likely a closet member of the FOH, he'll play with the higher ups. They most likely hand-picked him. Jordan would jump for joy when Sunshine died. "What did you tell him?"

"She'll have every last minute I can give her."

Suddenly, I remember his age. It's easy to forget Goski's old enough to be my grandfather. Though he looks young, Phil's not a spring chicken. He has an eye for pretty girls and he plays around on his wife regularly, according to gossip. From all I've seen, he's a terrific doctor. His focus and intensity in his work makes him seem ageless. He's not and every wrinkle is standing out as his lifelong experience shows through.

"I repeat, it doesn't change who you are."

"What do you want from me?" It occurs to me he's also taking Sunshine too personally. I could understand his concern, but I was blocked all around. They took my badge and I'm not a cop anymore. I keep having to say that, out loud and to myself. It hurts. I don't want to say it again. Why won't he leave me alone to eat my cookies?

"Just think about it." Taking another cookie, he does what I want and leaves.

Like I don't have enough to think about. I don't want to think at all. What good would it do? All I can think about is how shitty everything is. And Sunshine.

You know, I don't really know anything about her at all. Xavier said she's a good student, Logan said Jubilee likes her, and her life was destroyed within a few minutes. Rape victims can be helped with good therapy and determination. Is she the sort of person who could to get on with her life? Did she have the strength inside her?

Suppose not being a cop has one benefit for me, I don't feel a reluctance to wonder about her. Is she a fashion hound, pouring over magazines like 'Vogue' and 'Cosmo'? Taking an hour in the morning to get dressed and having a drawer full of makeup which she has to have just right. Or is she a tomboy, preferring sports? Throwing on whatever is handy everyday and knowing every team's stats. Does she have a boyfriend? That would be a good lead...

It doesn't end! I can't stop thinking about her as a case. God, what am I going to do?

What I'm not going to do is forget about her. I just can't. For all the good it does either of us.

Staring at her hand lying still on the white sheet, the steady beeping of the heart monitor and various other machines keeping her alive lulls me. Falling asleep, I have my coffee cup in one hand and a cookie in the other.

My fingers having gone slack, the styrofoam cup hitting the floor wakes me up. Trying to do my job and losing it in the same day must have worn me out. I'm used to going without much sleep, think that will be a problem anymore? At least the cup was empty.

Old habits die hard and I want more coffee, so it's time for a break. Break from what I'm not sure, but a break. Also, my bladder is screaming.

After stashing the rest of the cookies in a cabinet, I head for the elevators. The double doors are sliding open as I get there, a group of about half a dozen getting off. Seeing Jubilee Logan, I duck my head and turn the other way. Excluding her, talking to a bunch of people from Xavier's would really make my day complete. There's another set of elevators on the other end of the hall.

Restrooms are all over. Since my need has become dire, I stop off at the one near the elevators. Vending machines for coffee are plentiful as well, but I need to stretch my legs so go to the cafeteria on the first floor. It's not the best I've ever had but better than from a machine. Should eat some 'real' food but I ate enough cookies to make me sick.

You know, there's really not much to do in a hospital. Maybe Frost and Xavier have made me think badly of the school's faculty, but I figure Sunshine's visitors won't stay long. I shouldn't generalize, Logan's not like that and his wife isn't, but I don't know the others and have only a recent bad example to compare them to. Deciding to be stubborn about it, I go to the small waiting room a few doors down and situate myself so I'll be able to see them leave and can go back in. I've got nowhere else to go anyway.

There's another TV on. What is it with this place and TV's? I didn't know there were so many talk shows on the air.

A man comes in and sits a chair away from me. Light hair, blue eyes, taller than me. He must have opted to try the vending machine by the cup in his hand. Actually, man might not be the right word, he looks young, possibly late teens. He doesn't look like he's in a good mood, but then who in a hospital waiting room is? Well, probably expectant fathers are but none of them are going to be on this floor, not and be in a good mood.

"Is the person yore waitin' for in surgery?" he asks after a few minutes, his Southern accent there for anyone to identify.

"Excuse me?" It might have gotten obvious I'm not watching TV. Maybe it was the way my gaze was focused on the wall by the door. The young man had decided I might want to talk. It's not unusual for strangers to talk in waiting rooms, share their pain. I just hadn't realized I looked like that kind of person.

"Ah understood this floor's for people eithah in surgery or critical aftah, and Ah was wonderin' if yore's was in or out." Ducking his head, his eyes on the floor, he continues apologetically, "But Ah'm bein' too forward, ma'am, and Ah apologize for that."

"Out. She... she's not expected to last long." Sunshine isn't really 'mine', but I am here for her. Saying it aloud, I realize there might be something to talking. Who is he going to tell what I say? It's not often I get the chance to unload. "I'm letting some other people be private with her."

"Same herah. Feels like Ah oughtta be doin' somethin', but Ah'm not sure what. Gotta be something, though."

He has an air of helplessness about him. Now I kow why people talk in waiting rooms. They're all in the same boat. "Sometimes there's not anything to do."

"Oughtta be," he insists. "She could die any minute an' therah should be somthin' we can do. Somethin'."

How many times have I thought those words? Of course, there was something I should be doing. Justice wouldn't make Sunshine miraculously better, but it was something I should be doing for her. "Just being here makes a difference, I think."

"That's why Ah came, but standin' therah... it didn't feel like enough."

Again, what he says rings within me. It wasn't enough, just all I could give. I feel so much in tune with him, I volunteer my first piece of personal information. "I don't even know her, my... friend."

"Ah wonder if everyone feels that way? Like we shoulda taken the time ta know 'em bettah." His sigh is heartfelt, emoting a deep pain. "Ah see her lyin' so still and Ah wish Ah'd known her more."

I watch him rub his face with his hand in a nervous gesture and I can't help thinking I want Xavier and friends to be like him, to feel as he does. Surely he would want the bastard responsible to be caught and punished for his crime. Funny, how a stranger is saying everything I want to hear. My eyes beginning to sting, I give some more. "Actually, I was being literal. I saw her for the first time yesterday morning."

"Ah'm sorry." He didn't really say it in apology, sympathy, or question, yet somehow conveyed all three and was still polite.

"And you mean that, I can tell. I wish they did." Tears start overflowing and I don't even try to stop them. Talking about myself, I wouldn't do it so easily. For Sunshine, I can. She can't cry and tears need to be shed. I'm probably confusing the hell out of him, but it feels good to say some of this. It doesn't need to make sense to anyone but me. "I wish they felt the way you do."

"How do yah know they don't?"

Turning to face me straight on, he's so earnest, ready to believe the best of someone. It's so cute, he's cute. Through the tears, I'm taking notice of his physique, though he's too young for me. Okay, I'm lying. He's built and cute, that's really all that's in my criteria for a good time. Geez, I have to be bad off to be thinking about getting a one night stand from a hospital waiting room. Anyone willing to think the best of people they don't know really well, is too young for me.

However, in for a penny, in for a pound. Sorry to be the one to disillusion him, I explain, "Sunshine's been here in the hospital more than thirty-six hours and I've spent more time with her than the people she lives with."

Surprise and indignation mix together, making his voice unnaturally high. "That cain't be right!"

"No, it's not right," I agree. "They don't seem to care enough and I lost my badge because I care too much."

He's staring at me in shock and I think I've said more than enough. I hadn't meant to say that last part. Unloading Sunshine's problems are one thing, but my problems are my own.

The tears are still rolling from my eyes. Whether Sunshine can see me or not, I don't want to cry in front of her. Also, I'm no longer in the mood to talk and the coffee's even gone cold, which is just another reason it's time to leave. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hands, I give the young man a pitiful excuse for a smile and stand, "I gotta go."

"Ma'am, wait! Therah's somethin' yah need tah know!" Quickly getting up, he follows me through the door.

Miracle of miracles, the elevator's open and waiting. Just before getting in, I shake my head at him, "Sorry, but I was given some advice earlier and I think it's time to take it."

"But, ma'am, yah don't understand," he says again.

The doors are taking a long time to close. Looking past him, I see Jubilee with Goski. Her eyes widen and she starts towards me.

"Right now," I respond putting my finger on the 'Close Door' button, "I just don't care."

Pressing it, the doors do indeed close, shutting out him and Jubilee.

to be continued

note: Okay, I'm not sure what to say about this one. Lots of little things happened that are important on a personal level for Sanchez, and a couple things happened to further the plot, but it doesn't feel like anything major happened, does it? But, once again, things are moving along. (Though I like that Frickman gave Sanchez his cookies :D)

I've finished chapter 6, am a third to half-way done with chapter 7, AND have some of chapter 8 done (or it might end up being chapter 9, we'll see). I hope to have 7 finished by the time I'm done posting chapter 6. Hope that made sense.

Anyway, next chapter next week!

Thanks for reading and the support,
Dizi