CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I don't know much about men. Aside from a few one-sided crushes and childhood friends I didn't have relationships with men. Fuck, even my dad beat feet before I was out of the womb. I didn't fare much better when it came to women if I were honest. But from my limited knowledge on people in general I'm pretty sure they needed time alone to calm down after outbursts. So, as I swung my legs into the open manhole, every part of my rationale was telling me that dropping down into a confined tunnel with a pissed off brooding monster man wasn't the hottest idea. I took a deep breath and blew my bangs out of my eyes, hooking my sore legs into the ladder and jauntily descending halfway down the ladder.

"Croc, Black Mask told me to make sure you're not being crazy," I called. This time I could see a dim lantern had been set on the ground on the other end of the tunnel, just before the bend. There was an audible huff.

"Get out."

"Sorry. Can't," I shrugged. "You still mad at me?"

A heavy growl answered back. I sighed through my nose. If he wasn't going to talk to me then I'd talk to myself. I'd done it plenty over the years.

"Batman tipped off the GCPD to where I live. I can't go home now. And he got me shot at the weapons deal, he held me up like a meat shield when everyone was trying to shoot him," I talked out loud, adjusting so I could half sit on the rungs of the ladder. "Loose Lips got a friend of his to stitch me up, so I guess it worked out. I don't know where I'm gonna live now though," I mumbled the last part, realizing my bag of salvaged goods wasn't going to do me much good if I didn't have a place to put it all.

"Anyways what were you freaking out over up there?"

"I wasn't."

"Then what were you trying to do, just piss off Black Mask by killing all of his men?" I asked. Croc snarled, lumbering around the corner and taking quick long steps towards me. I cringed when he slammed his huge hands into the ladder, jarring my grip. "You got something to say or you just wasting my time?" he hissed, narrowing his eyes. I held my breath, staring right back.

"Tell me what I did to piss you off," I whispered. He growled, my own chest echoing the bass of the sound.

"Not right now."

"I don't have anywhere to be. I can wait," I assured him. Croc groaned an exasperated breath. When he moved to the side, watching me expectantly I realized he wanted me to get down off the ladder.

"I don't want to get my cast dirty," I mumbled. He sighed an explosive breath, proving to me I was just as annoying as I imagined, before roughly grabbing me around the middle making me shriek. He pulled his clawed hand back sharply, "what the fuck?"

"I just told you I got shot earlier," I grumbled, lifting my shirt enough to show off my gauze. When he picked me up again he made sure not to put too much pressure on my wounds. With my legs pinned between his chest and forearm, I hooked my free arm around his heavily muscled neck as he moved through the tunnel. Rounding the corner I saw a set of mattresses set on the floor, which I was promptly dropped on. I bounced once when I fell and again when Croc flopped down next to me, resting his huge arms on his knees.

So, here I am in a boy's room. I looked around a bit, viewing the space in new eyes. I'd been in Croc's lair back at Blackgate when I'd taken his collar off. I burned a tad pink at the memory. Figures the only boy whose room I'd been in would be a ten foot tall cannibal crocodile man. I took of my backpack, tossing it on a small crate a few moments of silence went by I took it upon myself to fill in the void.

"So what happened with Batman?"

"One of the guys ran him over."

I snorted then yelped when Croc yanked my shirt up. I grabbed at his hand, trying to pry it off and blushing all the while. "Stop - " I sucked in a breath when his claw poked near my stitches. Using his free hand he shoved me onto my back and continued to glare at my exposed belly.

"Whatchya looking for handsome?" I wondered aloud, trying and failing to cover up any anxiety of being so exposed with humor. He glanced up briefly before returning to glaring at my stitches. I felt my stomach twist at his serious expression, I was more than a little nervous under his scrutiny. I knotted my fingers into my jacket sleeves and bit my cheek.

"You definitely got fat," he rumbled. I smacked his hand as he laid his palm across my stomach and chuckled to himself.

"It's barely been over a week since Blackgate, I doubt I've gained that much. Prick."

"Bitch."

"You not mad at me anymore?" I badgered. I'm persistent, what can I say.

"No. Now drop it," he warned, putting pressure on my stitches. Wheezing I tried to push him off but he was utterly immovable.

"Give me a hint about what it was so I don't do it again," I demanded, still squirming under his weighty hand. He continued pressing into my wound. I began to sweat, gasping and doubling my efforts to get Croc's hand off. For a moment I thought he was going to rip open my stitches, the irrational look in his eyes chilling me. Then his hand lifted and he turned away.

"You're vulnerable," he growled. Trying not to breath a sigh of relief I pulled my shirt down and carefully sat up. "Who did that to you?" he asked. I frowned at his back, "I don't know, there was tear gas. But they were aiming for Batman so it's mostly his fault."

"The scars," he snarled, shooting a scathing look down at me. I flinched, readjusting my clothing to cover as much as possible. "It's not that great of a story." When he remained silent I felt my resolve crumple. If he needed this to calm down then I might as well risk sharing. I couldn't let it control me forever, or whatever.

"I got kidnapped while I was out partying after high school graduation. From what I understand he'd drugged my drink and got me away before anyone knew I was missing. I ended up locked in a basement for three years. He liked to cut me," I confessed, tugging on a few strands of hair. "He did it everyday, sometimes for hours, but that's it. Just the cutting. Eventually I had it and attacked him, made sure he bled out before I got help," I said, and then added guiltily, "worse things have happened to better people."

From where I sat I could see the side of his face, the tensed muscles in his jaw and blazing eyes. It was nice, the idea that one man's actions could irritate Croc to that degree, almost like he cared about me. But the posthumous fury did little for my comfort. I didn't trust or relate to people the same anymore. I'd driven away friends and family for my own scared solitude. There was no monster left for me to hide from, just the echoes.

"I'm getting better with it but he's the reason I don't like contact. The guy liked to hold me while he cut, it was the only time anyone touched me for years. Anyways my time there's what inspired me to become an escape artist. I'm never getting put in that situation again," I stated firmly. When Croc didn't answer I zipped up my jacket and leaned back onto the mattress, pulling my hood up and over my eyes. "So… what about you, what about the scales?"

"Atavism. I'm reverting to the primal parts in my genes or some shit," he grumbled, "doctors think it's so interesting but they don't have to fucking live with it." I dug my fingers under the edge of my leg cast and scratched an itch. So that was it. He was literally a beast. Rolling onto my side I blindly reached out and touched his flank. Running my fingertips over the thick leathery skin and hard shards of scales, I couldn't help but smile.

"Looks like we both where our scars, right?" I snorted, tapping my fingernail against one of the glassier scales further up. I was greeted with a long rattling breath, "don't say stupid shit."

"But I'm getting better with my issues, at least with you. Look," I patted his bicep, "voluntary physical contact and I'm not even shaking," I declared boldly. I felt the mattress shift before my hood was pulled back enough so I could see. Croc had leaned back and on his side, supporting his head with one arm and knocking a glassy knuckle on my blue cast between us. "Just me?" he smirked. I felt my face burn pink.

"Well yeah, kinda. I guess I'm not panicking so much when people touch me now but I'm not as comfortable with them as I am with you," I shrugged a shoulder, hoping to play off the confession. I hate heart to hearts. But Croc, I don't know. Somehow he deserved to know he had someone that relied on him whether I'd ever admit that or not.

He stared at me hard for a time, his brow furrowed just a tad before he reached over and pulled my hood back down over my eyes. "Go to sleep."

"So what'd I do wrong earlier, just tell me," I couldn't leave it; I was a stubborn, horrible person. He groaned a heavy, hissing breath.

"You talked like you don't matter."

I blinked in the darkness of my hood, my stomach twisting almost as painfully as my chest. The sting of forming tears had me squeezing my eyes shut, biting my cheek. Someone would care if I dropped off the face of the Earth. Screw the basement; no one had said anything like that to me since I was in grade school. Grabbing my hood and yanking it down over my chin so he wouldn't see my trembling lip, I buried my face into the musky mattress.

"Thanks."