The shot echoed through the alley. Crane's body went limp, slumping to the ground in a heap of blood and broken resolve. The henchman stood over him for a long moment, staring at the small pool of crimson collecting around his neck.
"Damn waste of a bullet," the henchman muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. He holstered his gun, kneeling to grab Crane's collar. His fingers brushed against the smooth, warm skin—cold, almost—before he hauled the unconscious body over his shoulder.
Probably shouldn't have killed him. He looked expensive, he thought, trying to shake off the gnawing unease in his gut. He'd seen enough carnage in Zaun to be numb to it, but something about this felt wrong.
As he trudged forward, deeper into the darker parts of the undercity, heading toward the black market, he figured he could sell the body to be used for some drug. Anyone would pay for a kid with red skin and a tail—even if he was dead.
He didn't notice the way Crane's body spat out the bullet, slowly regenerating while still unconscious.
The henchman continued walking deeper into the undercity slums, unaware that Crane was alive.
———————————
The Black Market of Zaun
Crane's eyes flickered open.
As he awoke, he noticed he was being carried over the henchman's shoulder.
The henchman's boots echoed through the crowded black market, his steps heavy on the grimy cobblestones.
Crane's eyes scanned the bustling market.
He didn't feel fear.
He felt relief.
Relief in knowing he wasn't dead.
He waited for his moment to strike.
The henchman turned down an alley, and the noise of the market grew quieter. He knocked on a thick metal door.
The metal door opened, and the henchman went inside before it closed behind him.
Before anything else could happen…
"Aaagh!"
Crane's tail cut across the henchman's neck.
"Grrk."
The henchman dropped dead.
Crane was panting in the middle of the lab.
His eyes wandered to the dead body.
Realizing this wasn't just a show, but his actual life now.
It shocked him.
"Fascinating," he heard someone behind him say.
He looked back, his eyes widening as he saw him.
Singed. The mad chemist.
Crane took a step back and clenched his fist.
"It wouldn't be wise to fight," Singed spoke calmly. "It'll only attract unwanted attention."
Crane looked around the lab.
He saw the dimly lit lab filled with bubbling beakers and scattered notes.
Singed placed a cup of water on a table. "Drink… It will help you recover."
Crane got up still weary and took a seat, staring at the cup.
"What's your name, little one?" Singed asked.
Crane saw his reflection in the cup. Memories started pouring into him—memories from this body.
This body hadn't always been red. His name was different.
His brain was slowing down, trying to comprehend what was happening.
Is he still a Zaunite child, or is he an adult who made costumes and animatronics?
Are they both still alive, or did one have to die for the other to live?
For his own sanity, his brain came to the assumption that they had fused and were still alive.
In his dazed state, he didn't register Singed's words.
Crane looked at Singed in confusion.
"What?" he asked.
"I said, what is your name?" Singed replied.
Since this body had a different name, Crane decided to combine them both into one.
"My name is…"
.
.
.
"Jonathan Crane."
——————————-
I'm having some trouble in showing their emotions.
But hey this is my first fanfic I could be doing a lot worse.
I'll only get better from here, hopefully.