Hi, look who is back! It's been a while. College has been giving me a lot of work and my mind's block when I even attempt at writing fanfics. Also, I wished I was a kid again. Being an adult and having more problems are not what I was expecting. But I'll just have to bear it and get through it. So, please enjoy this.

After the library episode, Waylon is slowly accepting the positive side of humanity in his heart. Though, he will never forget those who were cruel to him or the bad side of the human race he had witnessed throughout his years. He closes his eyes to lay back on the sofa.

Would he turned out differently if Kayla hadn't appeared in his life? Will he still be seen as a freak or a monster like any normal human would? As much as he is safe with Kayla and the Harpers, he couldn't help but contemplate about the past or the future outcomes.

"Waylon," a gentle voice breaks the giant crocodile man out of his trance. He blinks when he realises that Kayla is sitting next to him, concern about his well being. He had to chew his own arm just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. No one has ever cared or loved him this much as Kayla has. He wrapped a large arm around her tiny body.

"I'm fine, chére," he reassures her with a toothed smile. "Just a bit bushed today. You know, typical of me."

Kayla wanted to tell him she knows he's hiding something but decides not to pressure him. Instead she curls up into his embrace, resting her head close to his heart. Someone who was deemed a monster by society could have such a gentle heartbeat. She plants a kiss to where she heard his heart, causing him to purr in please. She never thought he would be sweeter than ever.

"If you need anything, please let me know if you need help," Kayla traces his chest lightly. Waylon sighs, opening his eyes to look at his girlfriend. "Kayla, what if I tell you that something from the past has been biting me in the ass at the moment?"

Kayla shrugs. "If you are comfortable to tell me about it."

He took a deep breath, finally looking at her. He could be lost in those purple eyes but this matter was something that was bothering him ever since the event at the library. It's not that he was uncomfortable with the event…

"Before you," Waylon sighs. "I never felt so alone in this world. But when I saw the kids running home to their moms and dads, I…I…"

Kayla feels sorry for him, after a low growl was emitted from his throat. He never had a parental figure to teach him or helped him throughout his life. His aunt was a sorry excuse of a guardian. Waylon has mentioned about his mother's death after she gave birth to him. But his father, who started this…

"It's okay, Waylon," Kayla shushes him, rubbing his back. "I know. So what are you planning to do?"

"I'll have to go back," said the crocodile man. He knows how Kayla would react. She grips his arm tight, afraid he would disappear again. "I need to know who and where the fuck is this 'dad' who walked out on Ma ever since she was knocked up!"

"But how can you be sure?" Kayla asks. "Whoever knew your parents back then are probably dead or somewhere across the world."

"I'm still going," he told her, not realising his voice becomes more angry at the thought of his robbed childhood. "I have a bone and set straight with the man who fucked my Ma."

"And you are willing to face dangers and guns?"

"I lived and breathed in danger, Kayla. There's no doubt about it."

Kayla's mind is trying to digest the news Waylon had announced to her. It was so sudden and how can she fail to notice it? She keeps telling herself that even if someone's happy, they still want answers that had been hidden away from them. She would think the same way too if she did not have her parents.

"…I'll go with you," Kayla announces her decision. Waylon stares at her, surprised by her choice of words. She still wants to come with him? To hunt a stranger who may be his father?

"Kayla, no," he told her firmly. "It's too dangerous."

"I don't want to lose you again!" she cried. "It's been so long, Waylon. I was scared that they might….kill you…"

Waylon pulls Kayla close to his chest. He allows her to cry a bit while he nuzzles her head. No one has ever cared about him as much as her. She's his saviour, his angel, a reminder to him that he's still human.

"Please…" she whimpers, resting her cheek on his chest. "Let me come with you. I want to spend time with you and get to know you. All of you."

Silence fills the air of the living room. Kayla waits for the crocodile man's answer. All she could hear was the steady beats of his heart. He doesn't deserve to be mistreated.

"Alright," Waylon sighs. "But we need to find a way to get there."

"I may have to ask my dad if we could borrow his car. I usually take the public transports but this is for you."

…

It did't take long to explain to Mr Harper about the road trip back to Louisiana. He gives Kayla the keys and told them not to get caught. Mrs Harper could not stop fussing over the both of them by asking them to pack the necessary things if they planned to rest at an inn or something.

"Goodluck finding him," said Mr Harper. "If anything, just text me. You'll never know what this guy might do."

So the both of them used Mr Harper's car, which was a Ford Ranger where Kayla had to use a cushion as a booster seat at the driver's side and adjust the seat to be close to the steering wheel. And the crocodile man sits at the back, since he's more than seven feet tall. He could barely sit up straight if he sat in front! Kayla hated it but there isn't any other choice to make him comfortable.

But Waylon assures her that he will be fine and he could lie down horizontally. Besides, there's already a blanket and an extra cushion for him to doze off while she drives. Starting the engine, the both of them head towards Louisianan, where everything begun.

During the drive, Kayla would turn on the radio to listen to some musics while explaining to her boyfriend from behind what the lyrics meant. He took pleasure in listening to her voice and her confident tone. He wonders why at twenty-seven, she still lives with her parents instead of having a home of her own.

"Kayla," Waylon interrupts. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure! What are you thinking about?"

"How come you don't live on your own?" he asks, already knowing that her body had tensed up. He could smell her anxiety. Kayla is silent for a while, one hand on the steering wheel while the other lowering the volume of the radio.

"No offence, darlin' but I just thought you have a house of your own with a library and stuff," he explains slowly. "Sorry, not to be a jackass or anything but I'm just curious."

"I…have some issues," Kayla answers slowly. He could tell that there's uncertainty in the tone. The music on the radio is now a buzzing noise that irritates his hearing.

"I'm not sure if I am ready to live on my own," Kayla sighs. "I may have a job and skills that have saved my life in college but I'm not good at finding the right house. Two, I feel lonely if I lived on my own. Sure, I can always talk to my parents but I feel like I may not have stood on my two feet as I thought I would be. And finally, I've been focusing on my job and career, I might not be good with household work like my mom…"

The crocodile man blinks in surprise. He didn't know Kayla felt that way. From the past until now, he thought she could handle everything and face obstacles in her daily life like a professional. Hearing this for the first time, he realises that she is not so different from him.

"Well, you can't always know everything," he shrugs, his weight shifting around the backseats. He too can't deal with people after his experience with the worst of humanity. And this trip, he's jumping back into that abyss and to torture himself by visiting his past.

Feeling bad thinking he touched a nerve, he stretches his hand to place it on her knee to comfort her. Kayla's body relaxed and she lets his hand stay on her knee for a bit.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Waylon. I asked that question to myself everyday."

…

Soon, the both of them finally reached Louisiana to where they both used to live in. All of the houses have changed. Most are modern except for one unkept house that's dead at the centre of the neighbourhood. A 'For Rent' sign was placed outside but even the sign itself looks very old.

"Well, here we are," Kayla announces, parking the Ranger to the side. She helps him out of the door into the exposed suburbs without anything to hide. He was born here, moulded by the abuse he faced both here and at school. The air became a familiar scent to him.

"I'm going in. Kayla, please stay here for my sake's. It's something I have to deal alone."

Kayla nods but gestures him to lean down. When he did, she presses a firm yet sweet kiss on his lips. Melting into the kiss, Waylon strokes her hair as the kiss becomes deeper, almost as if it's an addiction he could not let go.

"For luck," she whispers, giving him a peck on the cheek.

The crocodile man enters the old abandoned house while on guard. He wonders why no one wants to demolish this place or at least renovate it to follow the modern trend. The house brought back some unpleasant memories that made him sick to the stomach. A sadistic side of him wanted to smoke out his aunt to take a good look at the little boy she used to torment and beat every single day while he wondered about his parents.

The house stank of rancid beer and leftover food, probably from the garbage. He notices cigarette butts with their ashes on the floor, worn out furnitures and old tattered books scattered all over from where he stood. What surprises him is a sound that one would think it was a toad's croak but with a high pitch to it. To confirm, he catches a scent of a living being in this shithole.

He found the source of the smell upstairs in one of the rooms, the one where his aunt used to live in. He peers through the door to find a very emaciated dark skinned woman sitting at the corner of the room with a glowing cigarette in her mouth.

Waylon has never seen such a person so low to their levels. Inside, somehow he wants to relish this feeling and drink into this woman's misery. He wants her to experience his pain and the fucked up journey he had been through. Going with his ego, he decides to introduce himself to her.

Large footsteps echoes the house as the trembling old woman looks up, her sunken eyes become wide as she mumbles incoherently, hands wildly searching for something. A crucifix maybe.

"Hello, Auntie Flowers~" Waylon croons, showing off his teeth. "Do you remember me? Remember your beloved nephew Waylon Jones?"

"What the fuck do you want, you bastard!" his aunt yells rather than asks him. "I thought you were dead and Satan has finally trapped you in hell! Begone you spawn of Satan! Leave me alone!"

"He did," he simply chuckles. "And I made him my bitch. Look at me! I came back for something I want from you."

Before his aunt could scramble away, he grabs her by the throat, watching her writhe under his hold like a scared animal. Pathetic, how this tormentor and 'kin' of his blood could draw droplets out of him. Now the tables have turned!

"I am here to haunt you," he growls lowly. "So if you want me to go, tell me who the fuck is my father?"

His aunt's gasps were music to his ears. He wants to watch her suffer, to smell the same polluted air he breathed into. He would love to crush her skinny body and chew her heart.

If she ever had one in the first place.

"H-how the fuck," she chokes through his hand. "S-should I know!"

Waylon drops her on the ground roughly, hearing one of her bones cracked. "Explain, then."

"Jasmine shouldn't have gotten pregnant with that asshole," his aunt hisses in pain as she tries to move. "She came home knocked up and expected us to love her! What a waste! She's always too naive and too forgiving. Hell, your birth just confirms what a dumb slut she-"

WHACK!

"Don't you fucking called Ma a slut!" Waylon snarls, almost ready to eat her. "I may not know her but her love was something. She could have removed me from her belly but she didn't! Now, tell me before I become the worst of your nightmare….WHO. IS. MY. DAD?!"

"I don't know!" she pleaded, her body kneeling to the ground in front of him in a submissive manner. "Jones left after he fucked Jasmine. She keeps hoping he would change his mind to comeback but he left for Gotham. Everyone's going to Gotham."

Waylon observes his aunt's movement and her pleads like those prisoners he had witnessed back at Blackgate. He kneels his massive frame and places a hand over his aunt's bony face.

"Shhh," he whispers. "You are free now, Shauna Flowers. But like what you would preached to me: Once a sin is always a sin."

He watches as her struggles become slow as the blood seeps into his hand, sounds from her bones crushing under his weight. Her muffled screams slowly turn into dead silence. Waylon sighs before looking at his bloodied hand. He pushes the corpse of his aunt away as he searched around her room.

He has never been into this room at all.

There are a lot of junk his aunt has hoarded throughout the years but one looks like something that catches his attention. It's a passport size photo of a young woman with kind eyes and a loving smile. She looked nothing like his aunt when he was young.

He keeps the photo in his pants before finding a bathroom to wash off the blood. Not long before licking the last drop to savour the taste of revenge.

He has conquered the devil and now the hunt begins.

Wow, that was the longest chapter I have ever made! Hope you enjoy it. Looks like the both of them are heading to Gotham now. Yay!

Please review and I have a question.

Who wants me to make a smut or lemon between these two?