Disclaimer: You see this pitcher of cranberry juice? That, I own. This franchise, not so much.

Killer Croc

Killer Croc, for all that his appearance claims otherwise, is not a monster. No matter what anyone says, he isn't. Terrible things have happened to him. People—they are the monsters. They did this to him. He broke away, once, away from them and their cold, calculating, terrible experiments, and found other people—different people, he had thought—who seemed to sympathize. To understand. They cared for him. Helped him. And then he helped them back, because that made sense. Because they weren't asking anything terrible, and he did owe them, so why not? It wasn't like he was doing anything terrible.

But then they ruined it. She did, he did—it didn't matter. They ruined it. Ruined him. But then they were dead, and he'd practically begged Batman to take him to Arkham. No. No practically. He had begged Batman to take him back. Because he was surrounded by the blood of monsters, and at least in Arkham he'd be alone. Their blood had stained his hands….He'd only been trying to help. And they'd ruined it.

But now he is underneath a bridge, and all the filth from the tunnels is washing off in the rain. It's turning to hail, now, not that he can feel it. The sewer grate is open behind him—Batman will be there soon—he should just go. But…and he hates that he cares…what if Batman doesn't come in time?

Because there is a child, half-frozen and unconscious beneath the bridge, lying still in the mud as the water slips precariously close. And even though…even though he should just rip, and tear, and kill, kill, kill—it is a child. A…human child. But a child, dying, and even though there is a symbol on his chest that Killer Croc recognizes, even though he knows, as the whole underground knows, that this one belongs to the Bat…Killer Croc doesn't want to let him die. He has nothing against the Bat. Even if he did, he would not take it out on an innocent. But…and this is why he hesitates…the child (Robin, he thinks the name is) will react like the others. Just like the others.

Killer Croc grunts and shakes himself. He steps away. And stops.

He isn't like them. They are monsters. Monsters.

He turns back.

It is three hours before Robin wakes. Killer Croc spends most of that time wondering how on earth this is going to play out. He has essentially abducted Robin, sidekick/partner/no one actually knows to Batman, the Dark Knight, the man, the legend, who shows no mercy to anyone when dishing out justice. Of course, Croc had only done it to save the kid (and how old was he, anyone? Eight? Nine? A very small ten year old?), but he isn't sure Batman will care. But he had saved Robin. As soon as he had gotten the kid to his lair and gotten a fire going, he'd known; the kid wouldn't have survived much longer if Croc hadn't helped him. The light showed what the dark had not, and Killer Croc has never seen that skin color on anyone even halfway healthy.

He'd also had to take Robin's cape, his boots, and his gloves off. He should have removed the tunic, and most likely the pants (tights?) as well, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. They weren't that wet…and besides, stripping a little kid—or anybody, really—especially while they're unconscious and can't do anything about it is just wrong. He'd ended up simply drying the kid off as best he could with a towel, then wrapping him up in more and putting him as near the fire as he dared. He went aboveground, briefly, to steal some quilts and a pillow or two, but other than that he hasn't left Robin's side.

Not that he cares about the kid or anything. He just doesn't have anywhere else to go. He's gonna wait until the kid wakes up, or until Batman tracks him down—which will be soon, Batman never takes very long—and then he can…what? Let the kid go? Well, that one's a given. The sooner this kid is gone, the better. Go back to Arkham? Not if he can help it—that time before had been different. He's changed since then. He has resources, intimate knowledge of the sewers, things that keep him alive, which isn't hard, and well, which is hard.

So. What to do. Maybe he should just drop the kid off at the police station…no, it was still fairly corrupt (he should know) despite the commissioner's efforts, he'd have no guarantee the kid would be safe. Especially as they'd start shooting as soon as they saw him…he'd have no way to put Robin down without the kid getting shot to pieces. He has no way of contacting Batman, though come to think of it, should he want Batman to get the kid back in the first place? It was technically Batman's fault the kid ended up the way he did. Now Killer Croc wonders if that message on the underside of the bridge had been such a good idea; HE'S OKAY, Croc had written, shakily but legibly in white paint, in a place that the elements hadn't yet reached. But maybe he shouldn't have left such an obvious clue. Batman wasn't a good person. He'd never treated Croc like the others, but…Croc's heard the stories. He knows what the Batman can do. Why is he dragging a little kid around?

And speaking of the kid, Robin is waking up…

Killer Croc hunches, frozen, on the opposite side of the fire, half-hidden in shadow and watches Robin extract a small (fragile) hand from his cocoon of blankets and use it to push himself up and look around. That (innocent) stare locks onto Croc in a matter of seconds. Robin's mouth opens (scream, they always scream, always—) in a soft gasp of surprise. He sits up, struggling out of the blankets, yet makes no move to stand. Carefully, he examines his surroundings, and Killer Croc notes that even when he sees his cape (think I ripped it a bit, getting it off—), gloves, and boots, he doesn't immediately reach for them. Instead, he folds his slender legs (so easy to break) and looks across the fire at Killer Croc. He face is pale, but that could just be the lighting. The fire reflected in the lenses of his mask makes his eyes seem luminous.

"Hello," Robin tells him, and Killer Croc blinks. This is not normally how people react when faced with a giant, presumably violent crocodile. He watches the kid's head tilt, very slightly, as a small frown appears at the lack of response. "My name is Robin…you're Waylon Jones, right?"

Waylon Jones. It's been a long time since he answered to that name.

"Did you bring me here?" Croc doesn't answer that one, either, just watches Robin's expression. "Okay…did you see what happened?"

Killer Croc is ten feet tall and might as well be carved of granite for all the emotion he shows.

Robin shifts, and sighs. He's getting tired again. Killer Croc can actually smell his energy slipping away.

"…thank you," Robin tells him, and smiles. It's a beautiful smile, honest and fairly bright, a bit dimmed by exhaustion, but it's the first smile directed at him in…he doesn't even know how long. He watches, expressionless, as Robin lists a little sideways. "May I stay here for a little longer?" he murmurs quietly, and Killer Croc, not knowing what else to do, merely nods. "Thank you," Robin says again, and less than a minute later he's asleep again.

Waylon…Jones. Is that how Robin thinks of him? As a human? But…what Robin knows about him, surely he learned from Batman. Is that how Batman thinks of him?

He doesn't know whether to be upset or happy about it…it could be an insult or a compliment, and he doesn't know which one to choose. But at the moment he doesn't feel much like hurting Robin, so he figures it's okay.

It's barely fifteen minutes later when Batman comes. Croc's been maintaining his watch over Robin, and when Batman drops down silently, his first feeling is of gratefulness that Batman didn't wake up the kid. His second feeling is annoyance and irritation towards himself for feeling that way.

Batman stares at him in much the same way Robin did when he woke up. Croc returns his gaze impassively. Batman has that unmistakable expression on his face that he gets when he's analyzing a crime scene and forming (and rejecting) theories. He reaches a decision and moves cautiously to Robin. Croc watches him look the boy over for injuries. He doesn't find much; a few scrapes and bruises, nothing terrible. Robin stirs and looks up at him, and when he smiles Croc knows that the people who have been saying Batman's been abusing his little bird are dead wrong.

They talk quietly, faint murmurs drifting across the fire that even with his enhanced hearing he can barely make out. Batman's asking about how Robin's feeling and what happened with whoever it was Robin was going after. Some gang leader.

After a few minutes, Batman straightens, pulling Robin up to stand beside him. Robin's smile is a bit shyer this time when he tells Croc thank you, but it seems honest and now Waylon's just confused. What is wrong with this kid? He's acting like Killer Croc—'killer' is in his name for a reason—is little more than a babysitter. Or a friend. A human friend.

Whatever. Batman owes him now. But then, he's not bringing him in—they're actually leaving now—so maybe they're fair. Robin turns and waves and Waylon just nods in response. From the look the kid gives him, you'd think he was Superman or something.

Right near one of the exits to the tunnel, Batman turns back. "Thank you," he says, and it's barely audible but it's clear enough and now Croc knows that he's dreaming. He nods again anyway, and then they're gone.

Odd.

But not entirely unwelcome.

And if Waylon Jones starts using his real name again after that, well. Pure coincidence. And if he smashes Two Face's stupid face in two weeks later when he sees him beating the kid sensing…that was just business. Of some sort. He doesn't have to explain himself to anyone. Go away.

A.N. Why does that ending feel so rushed to me? Probably 'cause it was…oh, well. Tell me what you think. Good, bad, I don't care. And have a wonderful New Year. :)

Oh yeah, and if I remember right Croc was only portrayed like this in the comics…nehh. :P Whatever. It was a really good comic, if you can find it…it's basically what he said; he escaped from…somewhere, I don't recall. But he mutilated himself to do it. He was found and helped by some random guy and his wife, and this friendship thing happened. But they were using him, and as soon as he figured that out he killed them. Then Batman found him and (per his anguished request) brought him to Arkham.