A/N: Hey people! This is my first fic, also possibly the longest continuous thing I've written ever. It's a Crow/Sandman crossover. This is based on the Crow comic universe, during the assault. Please review! Hope you enjoy.


Roadside

It was bright outside. The sun was warm on the gravel pressing into his skin. He was slightly uncomfortable. He could hear a cricket, maybe a foot away from his head. Slowly, he realized that there was someone screaming his name. It sounded like a woman, a young woman. He briefly wondered why she was screaming, when he could hear a bunch of other people laughing. They were young men, probably teenagers, probably high. Why did it occur to him that they were high?

'Hey, TBird, we gotta ditch this shit…'

As he sluggishly tried to regain his memory, he noticed that he couldn't move his hand on the left side. That was strange. He couldn't move at all. No wonder he was lying on the ground. He tried to piece together the most important information. He was lying on the gravel, beside a road. Maybe he'd driven up there. But how could he have driven when he couldn't move? Maybe he could move before, only then something must've happened so that he couldn't.

'Let's have a little more fun with the bitch first.'

Bitch? That was rude. Especially to call his fiancée. Wait. His fiancée?

There was something very, very wrong here. The woman was screaming more now, and he sort of bitterly wished she would just shut up so he could think. Alright. His fiancée. He could recall little pieces, them kissing, her face in the sunlight, and making love on their bed on a lazy Sunday. He remembered that he loved her with all of his heart. And the woman screaming sounded just like her. His Shelly.

He could see, now. Not that he couldn't see before, but now he could put together the pointless signals that his brain was receiving into images that made some logical sense. The sun was bright, and the sky was blue, and there were a bunch of thugs standing beside an open car. His car. He and Shelly's car. Oh god. He could hear her screaming. His Shelly.

They were beating her. They were hurting her. His Shelly. And she was screaming for his help. He immediately tried to get up, to move, to beat off the bastards that were hurting his Shelly, but he couldn't. He was stuck. Watching. He couldn't even close his eyes.

At that second, something important happened. A loud bang. He wasn't really sure what happened, exactly, but Shelly stopped screaming. That meant they stopped hurting her. Or perhaps she just stopped feeling it. He heard them speaking loudly, about what, he didn't know. Seconds passed, but they felt like hours upon hours. Maybe itwas hours. He heard a car pull away, pounding music echoing in his chest.

He felt cold, suddenly. There was something coming off of his face. Liquid. Blood.

Shit. He'd been shot. That was why he was lying on the ground and he couldn't move. He was dying. …Shit.

He could see the outline of Shelly's body on the ground, from underneath the car. There was something oddly spiritual about the way she was laid out, something in between looking like she'd been thrown on the ground and looking like she'd been placed there reverentially. He knew she was dead. He was glad. That way, she wouldn't have to feel any of the pain.

There was an abrupt, strange feeling like an electrical current, and suddenly there was someone standing in front of Shelly. Heavy black boots with black laces were all he could see. And Shelly sat up. Shestood up. What was going on? They were talking. The other was a woman, too… What was she doing?

'Shelly?' The voice was highish, and musical. Like a cool cousin, or a happy older sister.

'…Who are you?'

'You know who I am, Shelly.'

There was a long pause. 'Ah. So then I…?'

'Yes, you did.'

'…Oh.'

'I'll take you home. It's alright.'

'But what about-'

'Eric?' He tensed up when he heard his name. 'He'll be fine.'

'You mean, he'll live?'

'Let me just say that it's not his time right now.'

'Oh.'

Why was she talking? She was dead! It didn't make any sense!

'D'you want to see him one last time before you go?'

'Yes, more than anything…'

Boots crunched on gravel, around the car, into his line of vision, and there she was. His Shelly, looking more beautiful than anything in the whole wide world. He could only stare. She gasped, and spoke. 'Oh, my god, Eric, what did they do to you?' She bent down quickly, cupping his face in her hand. Tears ran down her flawless face. 'Eric…'
He looked into her pale blue eyes, her beautiful face, her soft lips, the perfect little nose... He could feel tears starting to leak out of the corner of his own eyes.

He quickly looked past her, and saw the other woman. She was average height, rather thin, with long, dark, spiky hair. There was a silvery ankh symbol hanging from a thin chain around her neck. She was dressed in head-to-toe black, with a tight tank top and loose jeans. Her skin was white, actually white, like it had been covered in flour or something. Her eyes were painted Egyptian-style, with thick black eyeliner, and there was a little swirl coming from the bottom of her right eye. There were a multitude of crosses and other religious symbols hanging off of her ears.

She smiled, a mischievous but kind expression. 'Don't worry. I'll take good care of her. I have a feeling you'll see eachother eventually.' He looked back to his sweet, lovely, beautiful Shelly. With all the strength he had left, he forced his muscles to move, and he slowly smiled.

She drew away, long blonde hair glistening in the sun. The other woman took her hand and said quietly, 'It's time to go.' There was the feeling again, like an electric current, and she was gone.

Rather belatedly, he realized that the whole time her hand was on his face, he couldn't feel it.


If you liked, please review! I will love you forever and ever. -Roxxy