A/N: Ok, so, I almost dropped this story.

To be honest, it's the same reason why I took a hiatus on my other Wolf Among Us fic, where the fact that Telltale went belly up and Wolf Among Us season 2 getting canceled depressed me. And while not in as rough of shape, Batman has been varying wildly in quality lately, where some of his things are pretty decent, while other things he's in are just so disappointing (the less said about the Justice League movie and the "Knightmares" storyline in the comics recently, the better).

However, I had some requests to keep this story going, which honestly surprised and touched me, and having something grittier and more outside of my comfort zone to write is fun, and I do love these characters. I don't know how often this will be updated, but the story isn't dead.

Sorry if this isn't as long as you'd like, this is just me trying to dip my feet back into the story. Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for supporting me!

"This is...strange."

Deep in the Batcave, a shirtless and bandaged Bruce was analyzing the coat he had gotten from his fight with this so called Bigby Wolf, having it spread out on a work bench, while several different pieces of technology scanning over it.

"What is, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, as he was cleaning up the medical equipment he had out after tending to the billionaire's wounds. He washed the blood he had on his hands, before walking over to him.

"The DNA on this coat," Bruce answered. "It doesn't match human DNA. There are hints of wolf in the strands, but the rest of the DNA looks...off. Almost like it was an attempt to mimic a human's. It's unnatural."

"Which means?"Alfred questioned, but still able to guess where this was going.

"Magic," Bruce confirmed, as he walked over to where he had put the top to his costume, before slipping it on. "Luckily, he seems to be leaving behind a very obvious trail because of it. I should be able to track him down because of it." He then put his cowl on, hiding his face. "In the meantime, I'll need you to call in our expert."

"Understood, sir," Alfred said, as he watch Bruce walk over to the Batmobile. "Is there anything else?"

Batman hopped in the driver's seat of the Batmobile, as he started it up, its engine humming on. "Prepare a holding cell," he said. "I'm going to bring back a guest."

"I hate this fucking city."

Bigby was walking alone down the dark streets of Gotham, the cold, night air biting at him as he followed the scent of Prince Charming's cologne, getting more and more frustrated the longer he walked. He still had some dried blood on his face from his fight with the Batman, but had recovered for the most part.

"Can't believe that happened," he grumbled. "Having to go one on one with the god damn Bat. When I get my hands on Charming..."

He couldn't believe how the Batman fought. Everything he had heard about the vigilante didn't do the caped crusader justice. He hit like a truck, moved like a demon, and thought like a computer. He was an absolute force of nature. The wolf had wondered if Batman was even human.

He looked around, the city somehow seeming alive yet still at the exact same time. He didn't like it. It was unsettling. Everyone with even a cursory knowledge of Gotham knew that it was a diseased city run by a freakshow. And with every step he took, he felt like there was a threat right around the corner, and even though he could handle it, it put him on edge.

He hoped Colin was ok in that motel. He also hoped the pig wasn't being too conspicuous. He hoped he could go home soon. He hoped that Fabletown would behave itself while he was gone. He hoped that he could see Snow soon, her pale and stressed face always seeming to make him a bit happier.

He hoped he could make it through this in one piece.

He furrowed his brow as he realized that the scent was bringing him towards what appeared to be some kind of storm drain. Curious, he looked around, seeing that he was alone, before he knelt down to the drain, seeing that it was slightly ajar. "Dammit Charming..." He muttered, as he could smell the scent going down. Bigby then opened the drain up, and slide down, landing in what he assumed was Gotham's sewer system. Charming must of figured that being down here would of thrown Bigby's nose off track.

Well, he was partly right. "I'll still find you," he promised himself, as he took out a cigarette, and threw it in his mouth. He grabbed his lighter, flicking it on, and lighting his cigarette. Instead of putting it away however, he kept it out, using its flame to light his way, as he started to walk deeper into the dark, dank tunnels, alongside the walkways on the sides. The stench of the sewer water was getting to him, its strong odor stinging his nose, as he willed himself to lock onto the faint musk of Charming's cologne, refusing to let the former Prince escape from his grasp once again.

As the sheriff kept walking, he kept thinking about what his target had done. He stole the Book of the Wicked Witch of the West. A book filled with powerful magic and spells that kept the land of Oz under the thumb of the Witch for centuries, and the worst part is, the spells are so powerful that literally anyone could use it, even if they had little to no magical training. It was a potentially devastating weapon, one that Fabletown kept only for it to be used in the worst case scenario.

And Charming had given it to some crooks in one of the most dangerous cities on Earth to save his own ass.

Bigby looked around, trying to bite back his anger at the situation. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Where the hell is Charming?" Bigby asked himself.

"Under my protection."

Bigby froze, as he turned towards the water, seeing it bubble up and shift as something large, green, and scaley rose up, looking at the Sheriff with a violent hungry in his eyes, baring a set of long, sharp teeth at him.

"Well..." Bigby started, his eyes slightly widening at the sight of the imposing figure as it rose from the water. "Shit."

"You got some nerve coming into my home," the reptilian monster growled. "You must be from out of town. Everyone knows not to get into the sewers in Gotham without getting ready for a fight."

Bigby looked at him, as he took a long drag from his smoke. "So, what are you supposed to be?" The detective asked. "Some kind of radioactive alligator?

The monster looked at him curiously. "Name's Killer Croc," he introduced. "I see why Charming is scared of you. I can eat you and you aren't even worried."

"Because I'm more used to doing the eating," Bigby threatened. "Give me Charming, and we can both go on with our lives."

Croc just laughed. "You got guts. I can't wait to taste them."

Bigby just sighed, as he took another puff of his cigarette, before throwing it away. "I tried to be nice," he said, before he hunched over slightly, snarling and ready to fight.

Killer Croc roared, as he leapt out of the water right at Bigby, who rolled out of the way at the last second, letting Croc crash into the hard concrete wall of the sewer. The sheriff then jumped onto the larger creature's back, wrapping one arm around his throat from behind while digging some claws into his scaly back with the other. Croc groaned in pain, before reaching back, grabbing the fable, and ripping him off of his back and throwing him hard into the concrete.

Bigby had the air taken out of him as he hit the floor, and wasn't able to recover before Croc picked him back up, and jumped into the sewer water with a large splash, cutting Bigby's air out as the monster tried to drown him.

Bigby could only see Croc's face, the reptilian freak's eyes filled with a bloodlust and hunger that chilled the sheriff. He could feel his lungs start to burn, as Croc held him down under the surface, overpowering him. He had to do something. He had to do something now.

The fable's eyes turned red, making Croc look at him in surprise and curiosity. Bigby's body started to get bigger, as dark fur started to cover his entire body, his muscles straining and eventually destroying his shirt and ripping his slacks, as his face started morphing, his teeth getting sharper, his nose turning more into a snout, and his ears becoming pointy.

The werewolf was free.

Bigby, now much stronger, grabbed Croc's arms, and ripped their grasp off of him, as the fable made his way back above the water's surface, taking a deep breath of precious air as he kept struggling with the monster, who looked more than happy with the situation.

"You gonna put up a fight now?" Killer Croc sneered.

"I'm gonna rip you in half!" Bigby responded, losing himself more and more to the wolf.

The two apex predators looked at each other, with dangerous eyes, ready to tear each other apart.