I don't own the Crow, or Eric Draven. Wish I did, but I don't. I'll put him back where I found him as soon as I'm done.
This is an alternate universe story. If you still feel like flaming me for messing with the storyline, go ahead, make me laugh.
Chapter one
I'm sitting on my usual perch on the corner of the library roof, trying to decide whether to break in like last night, or wait until regular operating hours. It starts to rain, "How film fucking noir." I mutter to myself. That's when I hear a fight in the alley below me, I listen closer to see if I can be of any assistance. I hear a gunshot followed by, "Forget about him, get that damn bird." It's then that I notice the crow circling above, a darker smudge against the stormy sky. There's another gunshot, the crow falls, accompanied by an inhuman scream of pain.
I drop from the roof, landing quiet as a cat behind a bruiser with a gun. I kick it out of his hand from behind him. He whips around to face me. It's a mistake he'll never make again. Before he can yell and alert the other people in the alley to my presence, I tear his throat out.
With new strength running through my veins I creep further down the alley. I see a second bruiser taunting a younger man who is kneeling on the ground, doubled over in pain. I can also see the wounded crow huddled under a dumpster.
The younger man sees me, I hold a finger to my lips, praying that he'll have enough sense to stay quiet. The bruiser laughs, "Come on Draven, get up and fight." I clear my throat, the bruiser turns, only to have his jaw meet with my boot going the opposite direction. I hear a crunch as his head snaps to the side. I kick him again to make sure that he'll stay down. The younger man, Draven the bruiser called him, sits up gasping in pain, he manages to choke out, "Where's the crow?" I coax it out from under the dumpster and carry it gingerly over to him.
He inspects it carefully, his hands surprisingly steady for the amount of pain he must be in. After he makes sure that the bird will live, he cradles it against his chest and tries to stand up. I hold an arm out to steady him. He looks up at me through damp tattered hair, which he flips out of his face with a toss of his head, "I'm Eric Draven. Who are you?"
"My name's Jocelyn. But you can call me Lyn. He nods, "Thank you for your help Lyn."
"Don't thank me yet, we still need to get you home." He nods again, and winces painfully. I help support him as we walk. We finally make it to his apartment, of course he has to live on the top floor of a condemned building. By the time we get upstairs, we're both thoroughly damp. Once we get inside he collapses onto the sofa. He rests his head on the back and looks up at me, "Back in the alley, how did you know I was on the right side?" I grin at him, "Anyone with LaTreq's goons after them is alright in my book." He lifts his head, "You knew they were LaTreq's?"
"Well, I didn't at first. Not until I saw the mouthpiece's tattoo. What's with you and the bird?" He sighs, letting his head drop back again, "It's a story that I don't like sharing." I shrug, "You tell yours I'll tell mine."
"Fair enough. I loved a woman, I still do even though she was murdered five years ago. The men were sent to kill me because of something I'd overheard. Shelly just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They killed us both. But the crow brought my soul back, so I could put things right."
"So that crow is your soul?" He nods, "And if she gets hurt, I feel it."
"And if she dies, you get pulled into limbo?"
"Yeah. So what's your story?"
"I was born in Ireland in 1682. In 1701, when I was nineteen, the plague killed my family. Our doctor saved me from it by making me a Vampire. I came to America in the 1850s and wandered. Twenty years ago, in New York, I met the love of my life. If anyone deserved Immortality, it was Ayden. Before I could turn him, another vampire, by the name of Jerome LaTreq, killed him. I swore that I would make him pay. Blood for blood, pain for pain and death for death. Which is why anyone that LaTreq hassles is a friend of mine. How much damage did that bullet do?"
"Shattered her wing." I crouch next to him, "I can heal her, if you'll let me." He cautiously hands me the crow. I coax her into opening her wings as far as she can, Eric winces and closes his eyes. I run my finger across the point of one of my fangs and let the blood drip onto the crow's broken wing. I see Eric relax as the crow's bones mend and the pain eases.
Eric blinks and looks at me, "What did you do?"
"My blood has healing properties." I release the crow, she flies out the broken window into the rapidly lightening sky, "Damn. Sun's coming up, I've got to go."
"Why?"
"Sunlight can do one of two things to me. If I haven't fed, it would kill me. If I have, it causes me to go into a coma-like sleep. I've just got to stay out of the light until I get home."
"Why don't you just sleep here?" I'm surprised, "Most people wouldn't want me around considering what I am." Eric shrugs, "I don't have any blood, and you saved my life. I owe you one."
"You must be tired too."
"I don't sleep. The least I can do to repay you is watch over yours." I sit down next to him on the couch, "Alright then." I stretch out, using the arm of the couch as a pillow. As the sun rises above the horizon, I feel the darkness of sleep wash over me.
This is an alternate universe story. If you still feel like flaming me for messing with the storyline, go ahead, make me laugh.
Chapter one
I'm sitting on my usual perch on the corner of the library roof, trying to decide whether to break in like last night, or wait until regular operating hours. It starts to rain, "How film fucking noir." I mutter to myself. That's when I hear a fight in the alley below me, I listen closer to see if I can be of any assistance. I hear a gunshot followed by, "Forget about him, get that damn bird." It's then that I notice the crow circling above, a darker smudge against the stormy sky. There's another gunshot, the crow falls, accompanied by an inhuman scream of pain.
I drop from the roof, landing quiet as a cat behind a bruiser with a gun. I kick it out of his hand from behind him. He whips around to face me. It's a mistake he'll never make again. Before he can yell and alert the other people in the alley to my presence, I tear his throat out.
With new strength running through my veins I creep further down the alley. I see a second bruiser taunting a younger man who is kneeling on the ground, doubled over in pain. I can also see the wounded crow huddled under a dumpster.
The younger man sees me, I hold a finger to my lips, praying that he'll have enough sense to stay quiet. The bruiser laughs, "Come on Draven, get up and fight." I clear my throat, the bruiser turns, only to have his jaw meet with my boot going the opposite direction. I hear a crunch as his head snaps to the side. I kick him again to make sure that he'll stay down. The younger man, Draven the bruiser called him, sits up gasping in pain, he manages to choke out, "Where's the crow?" I coax it out from under the dumpster and carry it gingerly over to him.
He inspects it carefully, his hands surprisingly steady for the amount of pain he must be in. After he makes sure that the bird will live, he cradles it against his chest and tries to stand up. I hold an arm out to steady him. He looks up at me through damp tattered hair, which he flips out of his face with a toss of his head, "I'm Eric Draven. Who are you?"
"My name's Jocelyn. But you can call me Lyn. He nods, "Thank you for your help Lyn."
"Don't thank me yet, we still need to get you home." He nods again, and winces painfully. I help support him as we walk. We finally make it to his apartment, of course he has to live on the top floor of a condemned building. By the time we get upstairs, we're both thoroughly damp. Once we get inside he collapses onto the sofa. He rests his head on the back and looks up at me, "Back in the alley, how did you know I was on the right side?" I grin at him, "Anyone with LaTreq's goons after them is alright in my book." He lifts his head, "You knew they were LaTreq's?"
"Well, I didn't at first. Not until I saw the mouthpiece's tattoo. What's with you and the bird?" He sighs, letting his head drop back again, "It's a story that I don't like sharing." I shrug, "You tell yours I'll tell mine."
"Fair enough. I loved a woman, I still do even though she was murdered five years ago. The men were sent to kill me because of something I'd overheard. Shelly just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They killed us both. But the crow brought my soul back, so I could put things right."
"So that crow is your soul?" He nods, "And if she gets hurt, I feel it."
"And if she dies, you get pulled into limbo?"
"Yeah. So what's your story?"
"I was born in Ireland in 1682. In 1701, when I was nineteen, the plague killed my family. Our doctor saved me from it by making me a Vampire. I came to America in the 1850s and wandered. Twenty years ago, in New York, I met the love of my life. If anyone deserved Immortality, it was Ayden. Before I could turn him, another vampire, by the name of Jerome LaTreq, killed him. I swore that I would make him pay. Blood for blood, pain for pain and death for death. Which is why anyone that LaTreq hassles is a friend of mine. How much damage did that bullet do?"
"Shattered her wing." I crouch next to him, "I can heal her, if you'll let me." He cautiously hands me the crow. I coax her into opening her wings as far as she can, Eric winces and closes his eyes. I run my finger across the point of one of my fangs and let the blood drip onto the crow's broken wing. I see Eric relax as the crow's bones mend and the pain eases.
Eric blinks and looks at me, "What did you do?"
"My blood has healing properties." I release the crow, she flies out the broken window into the rapidly lightening sky, "Damn. Sun's coming up, I've got to go."
"Why?"
"Sunlight can do one of two things to me. If I haven't fed, it would kill me. If I have, it causes me to go into a coma-like sleep. I've just got to stay out of the light until I get home."
"Why don't you just sleep here?" I'm surprised, "Most people wouldn't want me around considering what I am." Eric shrugs, "I don't have any blood, and you saved my life. I owe you one."
"You must be tired too."
"I don't sleep. The least I can do to repay you is watch over yours." I sit down next to him on the couch, "Alright then." I stretch out, using the arm of the couch as a pillow. As the sun rises above the horizon, I feel the darkness of sleep wash over me.