This is a OCxKiller Croc fanfiction set in the Arkham universe. I may have cut out a little bit of time in the storyline such as the time Killer Croc spent in prison (18 years) so he could be a little bit younger for the story since with the prison time he would be in his 40s and I need a youngish guy for this to work. Please enjoy and I will try to update regularly but no promises.

Prologue

The travelling circus had come to town and everyone bought a ticket to see the show. The red and white striped tent held so many marvels, children of all ages wanted to hear a lion roar, see a tiger jump through a flaming hoop, and watch as an enormous elephant balanced on a ball. They wanted to see ten clowns climb out a tiny car, and laugh as pies went flying into their faces. The beautiful acrobats swirling about in the air like angels, and the knife throwers dancing with death. Even the most stern of people couldn't deny that the circus was a wonderful place to visit and for those magic few hours, you could forget everything bad going on in the world and just enjoy yourself.

Madeline however, had never been one of those people. She had always found the slapstick humour of the clowns to be too immature for anyone over the age of ten to enjoy, and the acrobats, while beautiful and talented, she thought they deserved to be on a stage performing for ladies and gentlemen, not trailer trash who stuffed their faces with cheap processed hotdogs and laughed at the crudest of jokes. Unluckily for Madeline, she was trailer trash, even had a tramp stamp to prove it, and like many other trailer trash teenage girls, she was at this circus with a young child. Unlike the other girls however, this child was her younger brother and not a poor baby with an unidentified dad.

"Come in come in." One of the circus welcomers encourages, beckoning them to go inside while juggling bowling pins. Madeline rolled her eyes and chose to ignore the man on stilts who was also trying to encourage them to go inside. Her brother, Jack, was pulling on her arm like a rabid dog trying to get free from its leash. He was very excitable, even for a child, and the way he eyed up the pink cotton candy only made Madeline groan at the prospect of trying to get him into bed later.

Madeline's mother had insisted they go to the travelling circus when it stopped in town, possibly so she could keep them out of the house while she entertained her next common thug boyfriend, after all it was hard to give them lap dances with a 6 year old walking around the house. As much as Madeline had begged for her mother to give the job to someone else, the only other option for babysitting duty had been arrested and her children taken into custody. They may be trailer trash but Madeline's mother was not about to let someone like her sister look after her little baby boy.

As they shuffled inside of the tent and emerged near the ring, the seats filling up fast, Madeline felt a wave of dread and despair come over her. She hated this town, it was a dead end, and everyone in it ended up deadbeats. She knew there was no escaping her fate, she knew she was going to be a stripper or at the very least a slutty barmaid, and she had no problems with that. But the strippers and barmaids in this town were so depressing and soulless, at least in places like Gotham City they danced with a fire in their eyes to the electronic beat as the strobe lighting illuminated the club in all the colours known to man. Their work was to party, not just a degrading job to earn money to pay the bills and occasionally your deadbeat boyfriends bail money. If Madeline was going to be trash her whole life, she wanted to be the kind of trash rich, handsome playboys wanted to take home.

"Maddy Maddy, where's the elephant?" Jack asked, jumping up and down like a rabbit on crack.

"I don't know Jack. I don't know if this place even has elephants." Madeline moaned, looking for a seat that wasn't in-between people she didn't like. There were some seats in the middle with a perfect view, however, just as they made a move to take them, a group of girls from Madeline's school slotted into place. It was the summer holidays and she hadn't seen them for a while, but she could tell that one of them was pregnant again. She grinned, the girl had always been a bitch, she deserved to get landed with a brat, perhaps this one would survive all the alcohol and drugs.

They spotted her and gave her a wave and fake smile, the kind of wave and smile done in a bullying manner despite looking friendly, the kind of wave and smile that made you feel bad about yourself and your whole existence. Madeline gritted her teeth and turned her back, dragging her brother off to the corner of the tent to a bad seat at the front near the performers entrance. She had been picked on by those bitches for most of her high school life and part of her primary school experience. Heck, she was sure one of them had pushed her over in the sandbox when they were in kindergarten. They were the popular girls, the bleach blonds with the big tits, black asses and no self respect. While Madeline had done her fair share of sleeping around and occasionally strip teases for guys, she was a part of the cool trailer trash group, the girls that would rather chain you to a motel bed and make off with all your money than just have sex for it.

"Why are we sitting over here, these seats are bad." Jack complained, tugging on Madeline's sleeve.

"Because, these are the only seats left." Madeline lied, ignoring her little brothers attempt to get her attention.

"There are lots of seats."

"Yes but they are reserved." Madeline lied again, and thankfully her brother was dumb enough to just accept that, despite not knowing the meaning of 'reserved'.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A voice announced, and dry ice began to flood out and fill the ring as the lights dropped. "Welcome to Haley's Circus. We have a spectacular show in store for you tonight." Madeline rolled her eyes, it was two in the afternoon.

"A show of magic, mystery, marvels beyond your wildest dreams. Behold the magnificent, the majestic, and the monstrous."

"Wow." Madeline muttered sarcastically. "Really using all of the dictionary there huh?"

From the dry ice emerged the ring master dressed in a suit and top hat with a long purple cape. He wore a masquerade mask and had devil like facial hair. His walk was confident but very theatrical, his gestures loud but again, performing and not naturally acquired. Madeline imagined this confident and charismatic ring master was actually quite a pathetic creep, and if they took away his air of mystery and power, they would be left with a man who was a little too skinny and probably still lived with his mummy, who was most likely the bearded lady of the troop. As he walked up to the women sitting on the front row in the middle, he produced a rose seemingly out of thin air, and presented it to the giggling women, their husbands glaring at the flirtatious ring master. No doubt if they'd met him on the streets in normal attire they would have slapped him for being so forward and not looking like a movie star.

"For the first act, Haley's Circus presents, the amazing acrobatic talents of the Harlequin sisters." The ring master announced, receding into the dry ice once more as three young girls in rainbow leotards emerged. Madeline rested her head in her palm as she slouched in her seat, watching the girls spin, twirl and bend in all manner of directions giving some of the boys a bad representation of what the average girl was capable of. She groaned when the car containing all the clowns trundled out and they clambered out of it, the crowd laughing as they danced around, pretended to fall over, and squirted water each other's eyes. The jugglers, the knife throwers, and even the tiger leaping through the ring of fire were all boring and non-original. Jack seemed to like them enough, but he was entertained by the washing machine just as much as all the bright colours and pathetic showmanship, so they weren't deserving of his attention.

As the knife thrower, who had not thrown knives at any living people spinning on a wheel, left the ring, the ring master, as he had done before, emerged from yet another gallon of dry ice.

"Now, we have a special act coming up, something never before seen in your average circus."

"Really? Because this has been nothing but average." Madeline groaned, and then realised she had spoken a little too loudly. The ring master shot her a glare as if to say 'shut up and watch like everyone else' and then returned to smiling at the audience with slightly yellowish teeth.

"Haley's Circus is the only circus with such a dangerous creature in its grasp, and we'll be lucky if this performance goes off without a hitch, and the monster does not turn on us."

The children screamed and the adults looked at one another with wonder and curiosity.

Madeline sat up and looked around for an indicator as to what this monster could be. They began to roll in a large glass tank tall enough for everyone in the tent to see inside. There were gasps and awes from the audience when they saw what was inside. At least three crocodiles swimming around, moving up and down angrily as the tank was more vertical than horizontal like a river. They looked uncomfortable, and very aggressive as they flicked their tails and moved at rapid speed, their jaws filled with rows and rows of sharp teeth.

"Oh no ladies and gentlemen, do not worry, we know that crocodiles aren't scary monsters... Or are they?" The ring master shot a glance over to Madeline, almost gloating at this amazing show he had planned. Madeline glared back at him and furrowed her brow. So far, a tank full of angry crocodiles was not enough to be considered a great show, and the forced mystery with all this monster talk was getting annoying.

The ring master began to walk along the front of the audience, his hands behind his back as he took long strides.

"Some people say that man is the most scary creature alive, others say it is creatures like crocodiles. Reptilian monsters descendent from dinosaurs with mouths filled with teeth perfect for biting, and ripping flesh."

He managed to get a group of small children to scream with his description before hopping back into the ring.

"So imagine if you will, a combination of the two. Part man, part crocodile, all monster."

He hurried to the left of the ring on the opposite side from Madeline and Jack.

"I give to you. Killer Croc!" He shouted, and from the performers entrance, slowly walking with big strides, emerged the strangest and most intimidating man Madeline had ever seen.

The ring master had not lied. This, Killer Croc, was indeed part crocodile and part man. He was taller than the average man by at least a head, and his body of strongman proportions. His eyes were a yellowish colour, his long nails black, and his teeth filled down to be pointed like a crocodiles. But the biggest and strangest thing about him was that he was covered, head to clawed foot in greenish coloured scales. He emerged right next to where Madeline and Jack were sitting, uncomfortably close, so much so the people around them actually moved a little bit to get away from him. Madeline didn't flinch, not even when Jack gripped her arm a little too tightly. She was entranced by this man, he was nothing like she had ever seen before. His eyes, while scary and unnatural, were so intense, and looked like the eyes of someone who had never seen anything good. His mouth seemed permanently fixed into a snarl and a low growl could be heard as he walked. There was a collar around his neck, fake of course, but it looked heavy, and so did the broken chain that hung from it. Madeline knew it was all for theatrics of course, but that collar and chain seemed as real to Killer Croc as it would be for a convict in prison.

Killer Croc walked up to the tank and ascended the iron stairs they had rolled to the front of the tank. The audience gasped and pointed as he made the slow walk. Madeline felt her face scrunch up with anger. This man, despite his appearance, was a person who couldn't help whatever genetic condition or accident made him look that way. To poke fun at his abnormality and use it as a twisted form of entertainment was just wrong. It was no better than pointing at someone in a wheelchair or someone who was missing a limb. This was the reason why most places had banned Freak shows, yet here, at Haley's circus, they still had one left.

Once at the top of the tank, standing on a small ledge over the pool of crocodiles, Killer Croc looked down at the tank. Madeline looked up with dread in her eyes, he wasn't actually going to go inside was he? This had to be a trick or something. Those crocodiles would rip him apart, they had no affiliation for someone who only had their skin.

"Tonight, our very own monster shall take on the monsters of Australia, the mighty salt water crocodiles. With the strongest bite ever measured belonging to a mouth of 68 razor sharp teeth, and a thirst for blood. Can Killer Croc survive, can he be more monster than man, or will he get ripped apart."

Madeline found herself standing, silently begging Killer Croc not to do this to himself. The ring master was starting to sound like a game show host on the verge of an add break, and the audience were so wound up the theatrics that they had started chanting jump jump jump.

Killer Croc still hadn't jumped yet, even after the moment to jump had passed. Madeline looked over to the ring master who was starting to look a little pissed off. Was Killer Croc going to back down, was he actually going to consider the possibility he might be killed and refuse to do it. A dark thought in the back of Madeline's mind told her that there would most likely be repercussions if he didn't do it, the illegal kind.

Then, when her mind was preoccupied, Killer Croc jumped into the tank, pulling his arms and legs in so his body was protected and so that the water spilled over the edges, sending the crowd wild. They cheered for the macabre fight to commence and Madeline couldn't believe they were happy to watch him fight three giant crocodiles and most likely get killed. Sure he was different looking, but he was still a person, he was still human.

The crocodiles circled him angrily, non attacking yet but they brushed against him, furious that he was in their tank and taking up so much space. Then, one of them decided to make a move, and its jaw opened wide to take a bite. Killer Croc had expected this attack and grabbed the crocodile by its top jaw, slamming it down and closing the crocodiles mouth. The crocodile wriggled and tried to break free but Killer Croc put his arms around it and began to squeeze it hard, trying to break its back. It didn't take too long, and the crocodile snapped like a twig, let go to drift to the bottom of the tank.

Another crocodile attack and Killer Croc attempted to do the same, however, the third crocodile attacked him from behind and bit into his left shoulder. Bubbles of air escaped Killer Croc's mouth as he grunted in pain, and the crocodile began to twist in its famous deathroll. Killer Croc turned his body around in the water to keep up with the crocodiles roll so he didn't lose a chunk of his shoulder. The other crocodile, who had escaped his grasp, came in for another try and bit into Killer Croc's right side.

"Stop this he's going to die!" Madeline yelled, and the ring master shot her another glare.

"Calm down, it's part of the show." He said with a snarl, as if he was enjoying this torture show.

"You can't stand there and tell me that this is all special effects and makeup, that those crocodiles aren't really trying to rip him limb from limb." Madeline shouted, standing on the edge of the ring. She didn't know what she was going to do. All she could do was run up to the glass and start banging on it, but that wouldn't help.

"Trust me lady, he knew what he was getting into and he's done this plenty of times before. He'll be fine. I think."

That last comment was said just to make Madeline more angry, but there was nothing she could do but tighten her fists and grit her teeth.

"Sis, why are you so upset?" Jack asked, tugging on her shirt.

"I'm upset Jack, because this is wrong. Okay?" Madeline knelt down and put her hands on her brother's shoulders. "Don't be like everyone else here, don't cheer for this kind of thing. Just because the victim is different. Only punish those who deserve it. Okay? Do you understand me?"

Killer Croc managed to get his legs up and around the crocodile on his shoulder, gripping with his feet and pulling as hard as he could. He ripped the crocodile from his shoulder, a bit of his fresh going with it, and blood began to fill the tank. The crocodile swam around but he grabbed it, yanked it forward and bit into its throat with his teeth. Madeline covered her mouth, it was shocking to say the least, but kind of impressive. Then, as the second crocodile fell to a watery grave, the last crocodile met its fate. Ripping the crocodile from his side and ignoring the obvious pain in his shoulder and side, he grabbed the jaws of the crocodile and pulled them apart, pulling against that incredible jaw strength and eventually, snapping the jaw all together. The third and final crocodile fell to the bottom of the tank and Killer Croc swam up to the surface where the stairs had been moved once again. He emerged from the water, bloody and torn, gritting his teeth as he walked down the stairs, clutching his shoulder.

Madeline couldn't believe it, he had actually survived it. He had actually killed three crocodiles, survived having his shoulder and side ripped up, all in one breath of air. This man was amazing. Yet, although they cheered, the audience still saw him as a freak. Killer Croc, now walking without clutching his wounds, made his way to the exit, moving quicker now, as if he was dying to get out of there. Madeline didn't blame him. Without hesitation, she rushed over to the edge of the seating near the performer entrance and peered through the bars as Killer Croc walked past.

"Are you okay?" She asked. A dumb question she knew, but what else could she say.

"Yeah." Killer Croc muttered as he kept walking, their eyes meeting for a moment, but that moment was gone in seconds.

"Three fucking crocodiles!" Waylon shouted, slamming his hands on Mr Haley's desk, making the whole trailer shake.

"What can I say, it was getting too easy." Mr Haley explained casually, used to Waylon's outbursts.

"Too easy? You try fighting crocodiles every night and then tell me if you want it harder or to keep it easy!" Waylon snapped, his shoulder still roaring with pain even after the med team had bandaged it up. Luckily for him, he healed fast, the only downside was that each time he healed, his skin grew back worse.

"Look, you didn't die, that's the important part. Plus, the crowd loved it, so it's going to be the new normal, okay?"

"Not okay. I'm fine being your freak show, but I wanna to be a living freak show, not a corpse you drag around in a jar."

"You'll be fine with whatever arrangement I decide." Mr Haley snapped, getting to his feet. He was a short man, but muscular, had a long beard and an infinite supply of cigars. He was an asshole, and never played by the rules.

"Don't forget Lizard Boy, I own you. Or did you forget that your aunty sold you to me for booze money." Mr Haley hissed, shoving the contract, or rather deed of sale, in Waylon's face. Waylon growled at the paper. His aunt had sold him to the circus when he was twelve, back then, they had stuffed him in a cage and made him prowl around like an animal. They'd even filed his teeth town to make him look more like the Killer Croc they were selling him as. In reality, he was a normal guy. Well, not totally normal, but his skin wasn't the result of an unholy union between man and crocodile, it was a very bad form of Epidermolytic hyperkeratosis, and perhaps a small bit of old fashioned mutation as well. It would explain why he felt himself turning into more of an animal by the day.

"Own me? Big words. You gave my aunt money and in return she handed over guardianship to you. I'm 21, last time I checked I'm old enough to do whatever I want. You don't own me like a slave you racist fuck."

"Fine. You're an adult, go on, leave. See who will hire you. Perhaps you can get a job delivering pizza. Oh wait, no one is going to hire a lizard skin freak to do anything, and I certainly doubt any women would invite you in like they do in all of those pornos you watch. Sorry to crush your dreams."

Waylon wanted to toss that asshole out of the trailer, crush him into the ground and rip of his head with his teeth. He would dismember, main, and rip Mr Haley apart. But he couldn't. Mr Haley was right, he couldn't go anywhere. He had tried it before and gotten arrested, and the judge hadn't taken a liking to him and given him a stern sentence. Luckily he was out pretty quickly on parole, and had come traipsing back to Haley's Circus, and no doubt if he had a tail it would have been in-between his legs.

He turned sharply and exited the trailer, Mr Haley grunting with approval as he did so. Outside everyone was packing up the tent and equipment, the dead crocodiles disposed of. They were to hit the road in the morning and be gone from this quiet little town of overly enthusiastic trailer trash. They had loved every minute of the fight, and Waylon was sure they had wanted to see him dead by the end of it rather than emerge victorious. Even though they had cheered for him, he knew it wasn't for him, just for the show. They wouldn't have the same reaction if he passed them in the street, no, they would throw rocks at him, ridicule him, and then he would get shot when a fight started because he was the obvious threat. The only person in that stand that seemed like a decent human being was that girl with the little boy, the one who had asked him if he was okay. No one ever asked if he was okay, not even the med team.

As he walked back to his trailer, a few slightly drunk teenagers staggered around near the edge of the circus campsite. They spotted him and started swearing at him, some even throwing rocks. He was reminded all too painfully of a childhood of rock throwing, where every hit caused a wound, and every wound healed more scaly than the last. He chose to ignore them, and walked around the back of a larger trailer, blocking them from sight. Instead of the teens harassing him however, he almost walked into someone. When he took a step back to avoid them, he realised it was the same girl from before, this time without the kid. She had long, straight, chocolaty brown hair, pale skin void of any freckles or spots, and big green eyes like sparkling gems. She was very pretty, but also had a sharpness about her face, a sternness that seemed to give him the impression she wouldn't just scratch and hair pull her way through a fight.

"Oh my god." The girl gasped, a little shocked by him, as was expected. But she didn't try to run away or come up with some bullshit reason as to why she had to leave quickly.

"Sorry." Waylon muttered, moving to step around her.

"Wait." The girl said, stopping Waylon in his tracks. What did she want? An autograph?

"I came to check on you." She said, fumbling with her words. She looked nervous. So she should be.

"Why?" Waylon asked sceptically. He was used to this kind of response from people. At least when they swore or screamed there was nothing to hide.

"To see if you were okay. That fight with the crocodiles was awful. I don't understand how anyone could consider that family friendly entertainment." The girl explained, seemingly distraught at the concept as she peered at Waylon's wounds. "I mean, they really did take chunks out of your body."

Waylon shrugged like it was no big deal. The shrug did hurt his shoulder, but he wouldn't let that show through either. It was a big deal, he had nearly died, but it seemed so much cooler to shrug it off and since this was the only girl ever to not run away from him, he wanted to seem cool.

"Why do you let this happen to you?" She asked, a question Waylon was not prepared for and did not know the answer to. He shrugged again, this time not to be cool. He didn't really want to have this conversation. Then again, he really wanted to have a conversation.

"You shouldn't, you should do something else."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Waylon laughed, but it was a pained laugh. He really wanted the girl to come up with something, anything.

"Well, I dunno. Maybe just stand around and go 'look at me, I'm a crocodile man' or something like that."

"Ha! No. I've done the sideshow freak thing before. Its degrading and doesn't pay as well."

"Well then, outside of a circus... You could... Maybe..."

The girl sighed and threw her hands up in the air.

"I got nothing." She said dismally, shaking her head. "I give up. I loose. No points to me." Waylon smiled, not because of anything the girl had said, but because of how comfortable she was around him. She was trying to make him get his act together and suggesting silly ideas with ease, no discomfort and she didn't seem nervous or scared. He hadn't had this in a long time. The girl must have noticed his smile because she smiled back, a cute smile, an honest smile.

"You know, I understand what it's like." The girl began, leaving Waylon a little taken aback.

"You couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be..."

"No no no. Not that. I could never understand that. What I mean is, I understand what it's like to feel like you can never do anything other than what the world has assigned for you. You follow?" She asked, her smile faded from her face.

"Not sure I do." Waylon said, confused as to what she was talking about.

"Like. I'm trailer trash, I come from a long line of lowlife trailer trash drug dealers and strippers, and I know that I too shall become a stripper, and I'm okay with that. But, sometimes, I wish that I could be bold enough to step out from the path that I'm supposed to take."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because, I'm worried I'll fail at it, and everyone will laugh and say 'I told you so'."

"That's a stupid reason."

"Yeah I know. But it's a real reason, and it's one that got me kicked out of school. But don't you worry, I'm not going to be some small town stripper, I'm going to be one of those fancy strippers that takes her clothes off for mob bosses, you know. The big fish in the sea."

It was a little weird but Waylon liked how honest she was. Sure being a stripper wasn't exactly a profession you aspired to, and the girl had said it herself that she was resigned to her fate, but at least she was going to make it to the top of that profession and not turn tricks for dollar bills.

"I guess what I mean to say without making it all about me is that you shouldn't do what I'm going to do. You should try to do something else. I'm not saying become a lawyer or whatever, just not this. I'd hate to see what happened to you today, to happen to you again."

Those words stuck in Waylon's head. Compassion. True compassion and concern from another human being who actually cared about his wellbeing. A complete stranger too, and a pretty girl to boot. He might have just fallen in love.

"Well I better go. The woman I left my brother with has never actually been sound of mind and she might start sacrificing children if I don't go and relieve her. It was nice to talk to you."

The girl started to walk away and Waylon felt his legs beg him to move and his arms call to reach out.

"Wait." He managed to stutter, and the girl stopped and turned around. As she did so, her hair flew gracefully and her skin shined in the sun set light, a luminescent beauty.

"What?" She asked, and Waylon realised he had been silent for a little too long to be comfortable.

"What's your name?" He asked, feeling like a teenage boy asking a girl out to prom, not that he ever went.

"Madeline Hopper." She said, the words rolling off her tongue beautifully. "And you Mr Killer Croc?"

"Waylon. Waylon Jones." He replied, feeling embarrassed for some reason. Luckily for him his skin condition meant he didn't blush like a little girl.

"Nice to meet you Waylon. If we ever bump into each other again, we should totally get a drink."

And with that, Madeline left, and Waylon stood in the middle of the circus camp, feeling as high as a kite. Sadly that dizziness was due to blood loss, and he quickly passed out.