Chapter Four

Waylon was not a morning person, and certainly not a day person. So when he was woken up at eleven in the morning by loud banging on the door of the lighthouse he was far from grateful. He growled as he dragged himself to his feet and stalked towards the door. Whoever was knocking on his door was dead meat. It didn't matter if it was Penguin or Twoface either, they knew better than to bother him in the day time. If it was another teenager come to gawk, he was going to eat them too, and if it was the GCPD, then he would fight them first and then eat them.

Snarling, he kicked the door open and roared at the person who dared wake him. He glared at the teenager standing before him, a boy maybe, late teens with curly brown hair and green eyes. He flinched, as would anyone, when Waylon kicked down the door and snarled in his face, but he didn't try to make a run for it, instead standing his ground. This was kind of weird but Waylon was not about to ask questions, he raised his hand to strike the kid down but again, the kid stayed vigilant and didn't move. Was he a messenger or something?

"Are you Waylon Jones?" The kid asked, and Waylon froze up. How did the kid know his name? Nobody knew his name, or bothered to use it at least. He peered down at this kid, he certainly didn't recognise him. He wore a winter coat since Gotham was so cold, but he seemed to have baggy pants on underneath and an ear piercing in one ear. Waylon was willing to bet the kid was wearing a basketball jersey on underneath the coat as well, typical white kid trying to be street.

"What the fuck do you want?" Waylon growled, scanning the area for anyone who might be lurking nearby to dart him or try and sneak up on him. It was the middle of the day and while it was still cold and overcast it was fucking bright. Waylon wasn't used to the daylight and being out in it hurt his head, and when his head was hurting he wasn't the most stable of people. What did this kid want, and how did he know Waylon's name?

"My name is Jack Hopper." The kid said, and it took Waylon a couple of seconds to realise the significance of that name. "Where is my sister?"

When Madeline woke up it felt like it had the first time, her head was spinning and she couldn't keep her eyes open. Everything hurt like hell, but this time she was able to move everything perfectly fine. She squinted through the bright light and tried to get a look at what was going on. She could only see for a few seconds before it became too much for her to handle, but she was able to make out the shapes of several people around her dressed in hazmat suits. None of them were Strange, at least they didn't seem to be, and all acted like she was dead on the table, not even acknowledging the fact that she was awake.

"Ready to begin with field test A?" The woman asked, but this time it wasn't from a speaker, this time she was stood right next to Madeline dressed in the hazmat suit. She hadn't really sounded like she was asking a question, more like she was prompting someone else to begin.

"Y-Yes." A stranger stuttered, a man, maybe middle aged and very nervous. Madeline felt a prick in her arm but it seemed to hurt ten times more than normal.

"What is that stuff?" She slurred, the words probably incomprehensible. "Get away from me!"

"Is everything in position for transfer to the target?" The woman asked another person. "And what about the chip. Has that been inserted yet?"

"Transfer is ready to go. Administering chip now." Yet another stranger said, and Madeline felt a sharp jab in the side of her neck as something was inserted. It hurt like a bitch but it was a brief pain. She wasn't that bothered about the pain. What was concerning her was all this talk about 'field test A' and 'target'. What target? What was happening? What did they have planned for her.

"Administering gene activation dosage." The male stranger said, and Madeline felt another needle inject her skin with something. But this one felt different. They were injecting something into her blood stream that didn't feel quite right. It felt warm. Very warm. Boiling hot in fact, and the liquid, whatever it was, this 'activation dosage', seemed to spread around her body at an alarming rate. She could practically feel it travel through her veins and arteries, into her heart to get pumped up into her brain and down to her toes. Then the nausea set in and she wanted to vomit up all of her organs to get the stuff out, but she hadn't eaten anything since she'd been there so nothing would come. Then the burning sensation started to scorch her mind. Not her head, her mind. Her actual consciousness began to burn and everything seemed to make no sense anymore. She felt her body begin to shake and her bones crack, her skin tear and her mind spin. She wanted to scream she was in so much agony, but her head wouldn't tell her voice what to do. She could only writhe as she felt her body shift and change, the leather on her wrists and ankles become tighter and more uncomfortable.

She was panting now, hardly able to breath as her lungs seemed to press against her ribcage. Her mind was racing, unable to grasp onto a shred of sanity or logic. She wanted to thrash about but couldn't. She wanted to scream but couldn't. She wanted to slaughter everyone in that room but couldn't. She wanted to slam their faces into the floor, tear them limb from limb and break every bone in their body to leave them in a crippled bloody mess on the floor, organs splayed out and bleeding everywhere. Then, like a bolt of lightning, Madeline felt something shoot through her spine and up into her head, forcing her to arch her back as her eyes rolled back and everything went red.

Shit, Waylon thought as Madeline's little brother stood at his doorstep with a look of determination on his face. He'd come for his sister. His dead sister. His dead sister who had died at Waylon's hands. A death that had apparently not been passed on to the family, and now it was up to him to break the bad news. But why, it had been four years, why didn't they know she was dead already? Hadn't the Gotham morgue relayed the information? Madeline had that friend, Paula or something, hadn't she contacted Madeline's family or something to let them know? Then Waylon had a sudden horrible thought. Was there even a body for them to find? He didn't remember much about what happened after Madeline died but he was fairly certain he didn't eat her. Or had he? No, but if he hadn't eaten her, then why hadn't her body been found? Was it still lying there in the gutter, eaten by rats and left to rot. No, there was a funeral service for Cash and the other GCPD officers, they would have found Madeline's body among the slaughtered mess.

"Where is my sister?" Jack asked again, and Waylon instantly turned around and skulked back into his lighthouse. He couldn't even look at the kid. Now that he knew Jack was Madeline's brother he could suddenly see all the similarities in their faces, the eyes too, both were emerald green. It was painful to look at him, but telling him his sister was dead was most likely going to be more painful. But it had been four years, how had they not come looking for her earlier. Madeline wasn't really one for staying in contact with her family, but four years?

"Go home kid." Waylon urged, not turning to speak to the kid directly.

"Not without my sister." Jack demanded, moving forward to go into the lighthouse too. Waylon moved his tail to block the entrance and stop Jack in his tracks.

"Don't come in here." He warned with a snarl. It wasn't because he didn't like people invading his space, which he certainly didn't, but it was because the kid might freak out and jump to conclusions with all the bones lying around. Then again, what conclusion could he come too that was worse than the reality?

"I'm not leaving until you tell me where my sister is?" Jack demanded, trying to push Waylon's tail out of the way. Waylon did not like that and spun around snap in the kids face, trying to scare him off again. The kid staggered backwards but didn't turn to run away. He just looked more determined than ever. Waylon sighed and stood in the doorway of the lighthouse, half bathed in shadow so he was not easily spotted from a distance.

"How much do you know kid?" He grumbled, willing to go along with this for as long as his sanity would allow. "How did you find me anyway?" Perhaps he could send the kid on a wild goose chase while he figured out what to do. No doubt Madeline would be pissed at him if she were alive to pass judgement on that decision, but she wasn't alive so he could do whatever he wanted. Heck, he could even eat her brother and think nothing of it. Surely he could. Could he?

"Maddy told me about you when she came home for a while a couple years back." Jack explained, taking out his phone to search for something on it. "Although she never mentioned you were an 11ft tall crocodile." The kid had tried to sound jovial but Waylon wasn't laughing. Noticeably disheartened that his attempt to seem light-hearted had fallen flat, Jack selected something on his phone and held it up for Waylon to see. Waylon peered at the tiny screen. It was a photo of Madeline and Jack somewhere out in the country, maybe down south back at their home, with the background bathed in yellow light and sandy dirt.

"Last time I saw her was six years ago." Jack explained as Waylon took the phone from him. "And the last time we had any contact with her was four years ago when she lived in Metropolis."

Waylon was only half listening to Jack, he was staring intently at the photo. He hadn't seen Madeline's face since he'd killed her, and even though he saw her in his nightmares he still couldn't picture her face completely in his mind when conscious. She almost looked like a different person, as if it wasn't really her in the photo. Seeing her face again made his chest hurt and his stomach churn with revulsion. Not entirely because he was seeing the face of the woman he'd loved and killed, but because he was seeing the face of the woman he'd loved so dearly and he didn't recognise her or feel anything towards her. What was wrong with him? Why didn't he feel his heart leap upon seeing her photo, or feel himself become aroused at the sight of her face. Was he really losing his attraction to her? Was this what happened when you were away from someone for so long, you lost your attraction to them? That didn't seem right though. He hadn't felt remotely interested in Lark when she'd tried her best to flirt with him. Was he really devolving to the point where he was no longer attracted to human women? To Madeline even?

"We're used to not talking to her for a long periods of time, but I went to visit her a few months ago for a surprise. I was going to thank her for the money she puts into my account every so often, but when I got there I found out she didn't live in that apartment anymore. I went to her work at the modelling place but they said that she'd quit four years ago and gone to get back together with her ex boyfriend in Gotham, which is why I am here. I want to see her."

Jack scowled at Waylon, as if he were hiding Madeline inside the lighthouse and forbidding her from seeing her family ever again like some psycho overprotective type.

"She's not here." Waylon muttered, handing the phone back. God what was wrong with him. Why didn't he feel anything when looking at that photo?

"Then where is she?" Jack snapped, a bit of Madeline's fiery stubbornness showing through. Waylon growled and gnashed his teeth together. This kid was not going to accept a half hearted distraction narrative, he would only accept the truth, and as much as Waylon didn't want to say it, he had no choice.

"She's dead." He said quickly and flatly, and awaited the outrage to follow, but it didn't. Jack just stood there staring at him, his lips pursed together before looking at the ground. He took a big sigh and clenched his fists before letting his body relax, as if the wave of anger had washed over him and disappeared.

"Did you kill her?" He asked calmly, still looking at the ground. This was freaking Waylon out a bit. Why didn't he scream or yell, swear vengeance or something, anything? Why was he so calm?

"Yes." He confessed, and again the kid didn't flinch or protest. He just stood there and stared at the ground in silence for quite some time.

"Why?" He asked suddenly, catching Waylon off guard.

"Because..." Waylon began, not quite sure how to explain it. "I can't control myself sometimes."

"Did you eat her?" Jack asked, and Waylon felt personally insulted that Jack suggested such a thing.

"No!" He snapped in protest, and Jack finally looked up again.

"Then where is her body?" He asked, now sounding a little more angry. Was that it? Was that was angered him most about all of this. Not that Waylon had killed his sister but that they hadn't received her body? What was with this kid?

"I don't know. I don't know what happened to her body." Waylon said, shrugging to try and shrug off the awkward anxiousness he was feeling. He didn't want to talk about this, it made him feel uncomfortable and sick to his stomach.

"We were never told that she had been killed so we never received her body to burry. Where would it be if not with us?"

"I don't know." Waylon sighed, really wanting to curl back up and sleep away this awful mix of feelings. This kid was really starting to annoy him.

"You have to find out for me." Jack demanded, and then Waylon felt his patience snap.

"I don't have to do anything." He snarled, quite fed up with the kid's attitude. He didn't want to remember or even think about Madeline's lifeless body, let alone go searching for it.

"You killed her, it's only fair that you find out what happened to her." Jack protested as Waylon tried to shut the door. Before Waylon could stop him, Jack slipped into the lighthouse and staggered into the open space of bones and dried up blood. His face turned pale and he began to quiver with fear. There was that fear Waylon had expected earlier, perhaps the kid would leave now. He grabbed Jack by his shirt and dragged him back outside.

"Fuck off kid." He growled, and slammed the door shut.

But Jack would not be deterred so easily and started banging on the door.

"I'm not leaving until you help me find my sister's body!" He yelled, slamming his fists on the metal and causing the sound to echo around inside the lighthouse. Waylon couldn't put up with it for very long and stalked back outside, knocking Jack to the ground.

"Piss off!" He snapped, snapping his jaws very close to Jack to try and get the message across that the giant cannibal crocodile was not someone you pissed off.

"If you don't help me find my sister's body I'll tell the police you're living here and they'll come and arrest you." Jack threatened, and Waylon laughed at the pitiful attempt at blackmail.

"Then I'll eat you so you can't tell them." Waylon growled, licking his lips to give the impression he really would eat him. He certainly wouldn't eat Jack of course, that would just be weird.

"Don't you want to find out what happened to Maddy?" Jack asked, attempting to appeal to Waylon's sense of humanity, of which he had a very limit supply.

"Not particularly no." Waylon snarled, half lying half telling the truth. "She's probably just buried somewhere in an unmarked grave as a Jane Doe or whatever."

"But what if she's not!" Jack interrupted. "What if she's not buried. Or what if they did something else with her body?"

"Cremation?" Waylon suggested, getting very tired of this conversation.

"No! What if they said that they'd buried her but they actually hadn't and her grave is empty and her body is somewhere else."

"Is this some sort of conspiracy theory or something?" Waylon grumbled, raising what would have been an eyebrow if he had them.

"I've heard stuff about this before. Bodies being taken to be experimented on, turned into super soldiers or something." Jack explained, typing something into his phone to show feeble evidence. Waylon really couldn't be bothered with this, he had to get rid of the kid.

"You see this is why I don't use the internet." He grumbled, grabbing Jack by the arm and dragging him around the back of the lighthouse.

"Hey! Let me go!" Jack protested, dropping his phone as he was dragged to the edge of the island. He tried to reach back for it but Waylon just dragged him down a narrow path that lead to a ledge near the water's edge.

"Can you swim?" Waylon asked blankly as he checked the area for anyone watching. Why did he have to leave the island in the day time, it was too risky and too bright.

"Not really." Jack said, sounding confused.

"Well then you better hold on tight." Waylon warned, and grabbed Jack by the arm to toss him onto his back. Before Jack could realise what was going on Waylon dove into the water and Jack held onto the ridges on Waylon's back for dear life as they powered through the water at an alarming speed. Waylon was especially uncomfortable about swimming close to the surface of the water but he couldn't drown the poor kid.

Riddler was by no means happy to see Waylon again, most likely because the last time they'd been in the same room Waylon had tried to kill him. Waylon had been having a bad day and Riddler happened to be the only person nearby since he'd been living in Riddler's basement for a while. Needless to say Riddler had been somewhat traumatized by the whole thing and they hadn't spoken in about a year and a half. Naturally, Riddler made himself scarce when Waylon stalked with Jack into the Pinckney Orphanage. He appeared via the projector he had set up from his attempt to defeat Batman quite some time ago.

"What do you want?" He hissed from his projection, looking tired and not wearing green for once.

"I need you to do something for me." Waylon growled, not even looking at the projection and stalking straight through the door on the far left. He remembered where Riddler's secret office was, and it didn't take a genius to rip off the bookcase that concealed it.

"Is that The Riddler?" Jack asked as they walked past the projection that was protesting furiously at Waylon's disregard for privacy.

"Yep." Waylon muttered, and they stalked down the hall to the bookcase with the security panel hidden behind some stacked up books. Waylon banged his fist on the wall to the side of the bookcase, knowing full well Riddler could hear it.

"Open up or I'm ripping it off the wall." He warned with a growl and the bookcase almost instantly slid to the side.

Riddler's desire to keep his technology and gadgets intact far outweighed his desire to stay alive. Most likely because since Batman's untimely departure he had been left in a slump with nothing to do. Riddler certainly looked like he was in a slump, the poor bugger was even paler than usual and more gaunt looking. He kind of looked like his soul had been sucked out of his body and the lifeless skeleton left behind to wonder around aimlessly with an irritable face and a short temper. He also had a shotgun in hand aimed directly at Waylon's head. Waylon didn't flinch at the threat, bullets wouldn't kill him and even if they did, Riddler would be doing him and the world a big favour.

"What do you want?" Riddler hissed, glancing at Jack who seemed to be more interested in the technology behind Riddler than the gun in his hand. "Who's the kid."

"This is Madeline's little brother Jack." Waylon sighed, shoving the kid forward so he staggered into the secret room.

"And?"

"And I need you to look after him for a bit." Waylon explained, and as he expected Riddler shook his head violently in protest.

"Hell no! I am not a babysitting service!" Riddler protested, trying to scare Waylon off by gesturing the shotgun in his direction but it failed to even make Waylon blink.

"I'm not a baby. I'm nineteen." Jack protested from inside the secret room as he looked around at the computer screens and diagrams that were littered across the place.

"You're still a kid, and get away from there!" Riddler snapped, going over to Jack and yanking him away just before he touched a fragile looking robot head sitting on the desk.

"Edward. Please. Just for a little bit. Until I can figure out what to do with him." Waylon begged as nicely as he could. Demanding Riddler to cooperate would not work well considering the nature of their last conversation.

"I don't care what you do with him. Kill him, eat him, drown him." Riddler suggested, turning all of his computer screens off so no one could see what he was working on. "Just get rid of him."

"I'm not going anywhere until I find my sister's body." Jack protested, shoving Riddler aside so he could go to the one computer that was still on. He slid into the seat and went straight onto the internet.

"Get off there!" Riddler snapped, dragging Jack and the office chair away from the computer.

"He's a conspiracy theorist." Waylon explained with a sigh. "He won't go away until he's certain Madeline is dead and not in some government facility or whatever else crazies think."

"Hey!" Riddler snapped, turning to Waylon instead of Jack who was slowly etching back over to the computer behind Riddler's back. "Don't knock conspiracy theories. The government is up to some shady business."

"Exactly." Jack chimed in, now on the internet again much to Riddler's dismay. "So we have to find out where they buried her so we can see for ourselves."

"We? There is no 'we', alright kid?" Waylon correctly sharply. "And you are not going grave robbing."

"How else will we find out what happened to her?" Jack protested as Riddler kicked him out of the seat and sat down instead.

"I don't know. I can't be dealing with this right now." Waylon growled, turning around to leave.

"Woah woah woah. You can't just leave him with me." Riddler protested, getting up to run after Waylon who was already half way down the hall to the exit.

"Please Edward." Waylon grumbled, not trying to be nice anymore. "I don't like being up in the day time and this is too much for me to deal with right now. I'll come back and sort it all out later but right now I need to be alone." It was true, he was feeling his insides twist and turn as they craved human flesh. Killer Croc wanted to cause some mayhem but Waylon didn't want the next meal to include his old friend and his dead girlfriend's little brother. Riddler seemed to understand why Waylon was so eager to get away from them and sighed with defeat.

"Fine, but if you're not back by tomorrow morning I'm tossing him out." He warned. Waylon nodded in agreement and then skulked off back home, unsure on what he was going to do about everything.

What happened to Madeline? What will Jack's research uncover? What will Waylon do when he meets Madeline again. But most importantly, can Waylon even get hard for Madeline anymore? *gasp, cries in fandom*. All will be revealed in the next chapter as well as a host of new characters. Please leave a review and follow this story.