A/N: Don't you love it when your muse gets on a roll? Because I'm having one for this particular fanfic. WARNING: This fanfiction contains the following-Language, violence, mild canon-crossing elements, alternating first-person-view narratives, severe fancharacter/OCxCanon/OCxOC use. If you do not wish to be subjected to any of that, this is not the fanfic for you. NOTE: This fanfiction is a companion to my other "The Batman" fanfic, "Twisted Souls." I highly recommend you read both fanfics as they will connect and overlap in some places and events. Finally, all fancharacters used (including my own) are credited back to their creators in the copies of the "Cry Wolf" chapters that are in my deviantArt gallery, as these chapters were uploaded there first. (If you don't know my dA username, it's Yoruhoshi.) R&R please!
Chapter 15: Boat Rides Suck
[Jeanette's POV:]
Words alone are not enough to express my sheer dislike of boats. I did my best to find a spot close to the prow where I could just sit down without looking out over the water, and tried to think of how to get out of this predicament. So far, I couldn't exactly escape by jumping overboard and trying to swim back to Gotham. I had no idea where this private island we were supposedly sailing to was, and Croc's three stooges hadn't exactly been much help.
Much to my surprise though, they had actually introduced themselves without prompting. Vic was, of course, the disgustingly foul-mouthed man with the odd mutton-chops beard and had some sort of chronic problem when it came to ordering around his two companions. Sam was the quiet one in the back who always looked to everyone else for direction, and followed Croc's orders diligently and without question. And Freddie was the awkward, gangly, bespectacled man around my own age, who followed the other three like a lost puppy looking for attention. All in all, they made a peculiar motley crew, and I pondered absently on how in the world they had wound up together.
We had been out on the water for over an hour when Sam came near where I sat, busying himself with checking and double-checking everything in sight. I watched his work for several quiet minutes before I finally decided to take a stab at conversation.
"Mr. Sam, do you even have the faintest idea how much longer it will be before we reach our destination?"
He looked at me in surprise as he checked a storage hatch, and then frowned in thought for a few moments. Finally, he answered with a slow shake of his head.
"Hour? Maybe two?" He said in a soft, deep voice, rolling his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I dunno."
"Hmm. May I ask you a personal question?"
"Sure, I guess."
"How in the world did you and your friends come to work for Killer Croc? Why are you still working for him?" I queried.
"Tell ya the truth, the boss found us while we were tryin' to pull a heist," Same replied, moving on to check the life rings, "Lemme tell ya, he hits like a semi-truck. He wanted to take us on as hired help. Vic, he wasn't too hot on that. But Freddie and me, we know the food chain when we see it, so we went along. Didn't question it much."
"Freddie and I." I attempted to correct his grammar, but it was a vain effort and went ignored.
"Dunno why we've stuck by Boss Croc since then. Guess after working for him, we just never felt like goin' back to bein' freelance. Least that's how I see it. And I know this sounds crazy, but I kinda look up to the boss. Kinda like, uh…an inspiration. See, I never had much education. Dropped out of high school my sophomore year, to try to help take care of my ma. Got my GED, but never had enough money to get any higher learning. And when times got hard, nobody wanted to hire a brainless high school drop-out."
"Sam," I said gently, "You're not brainless—"
"Mighty kind of you, miss. But I'm really not that smart. I ain't no genius or anything. But the boss, he is. And I kinda want to be like him. I even wanna be an inspiration to someone else one day, once I'm good enough to get there. Plus we're all kind of a family now. The boss could have told us to get lost the first time after his plan failed, but he didn't. He let us stick with him." Sam explained. "That make any sense?"
I blinked in amazement, looking from him to the cabin where Croc stood, manning the wheel, and watched as he clapped Freddie on the shoulders, praising him for a job well done.
"Yes," I said softly, "Yes, it does."
"Can I ask you a question, miss?"
"You may ask me a question." I answered stiffly, twisting my mouth in irritation again at his grammar.
"Why'd you help the boss?" He asked. "You could've called the police, or tried to signal the Batman or somethin'. But you just decided to help him. But you're not scared of him, like any normal people are. Sure, we scared ya when we were at your house, and that makes sense, but you don't seem scared of him any more, far as I can tell. And besides, you look like an honest person. And if you're an honest person, you're not here because you want money or anything. So why are you still helping Boss Croc?"
It was a very valid question, and it hit home. I had continued to ask myself the exact same thing since we had been outside the library, waiting for it to close. I chewed my lip a moment, considering how best to answer the question for both of us. Nothing jumped to me however, and finally I just shrugged.
"I must say I am not entirely sure," I replied quietly, "Somehow it just feels like the right thing to do. And not just that, it feels like something I must do. I suppose you could say it's my women's intuition."
At that he nodded, and I smiled slightly with relief, glad he had accepted my answer. The company of criminals was not something I desired on any level, but Sam didn't seem so bad. I just wished he wouldn't speak so ill of himself. He rose from where he crouched and walked off to check something else, leaving me to myself, although not for long. Vic and Croc were still at the wheel, deep in discussion, but Freddie had long since been dismissed to wander about the deck. He reappeared without warning, and he was…dancing?
I blinked, removed my glasses, frantically rubbed their lenses upon my sleeve in an attempt to clean them, and replaced them upon the bridge of my nose.
No…No, he was definitely dancing out here onto the main deck.
And to make matters worse, he began singing as well.
"—tell me you're heeere to staaaaayyyy~ Never, ever, run a-a-awaaaayyyy~ OOOHH! Thirteen chapters in a sleepless niiiiight~ Written so ba—ad but it feels so ri-hiiight!"
Shakespeare, Austen, and Fitzgerald! I thought, wincing and clapping my hands over my ears. It was bad enough that the man couldn't sing, but what in the name of all things sentient were those god-forsaken lyrics?! I squinted through my half-closed eyes and spotted the source of the problem: an MP3 player clipped to his belt. Scowling, I struggled to my feet, doing my best to stand upright and still keep my ears covered, and staggered across the deck as it rose and fell with the waves, to nudge Freddie with the toe of my boot. He jumped at the contact, shocked to find me glaring at him, and with a deliberately innocent blink of his eyes, he shut off the MP3 player and removed his headphones.
"Hey, Miss Harker! What's up?" He asked.
"You are screeching loud enough to wake the dead and kill them all a second time." I said in a ragged voice. "What the hell are you listening to?"
"Chill out, dude! It's 'Thirteen Chapters In A Sleepless Night.' Number one hit single from King Sombrero and the Crystal Ho's."
"I am going to assume that is a reference to gardening tools," I responded dryly, "And did you say thirteen chapters?"
"Yeah!" He gave an enthusiastic nod.
"While I can appreciate more than most the gusto of a reader bewitched by a story and I fully support reading books to better fall asleep at night, thirteen chapters of what sounds like a poorly written pornography novel in one sitting is unwise, unhealthy, and utterly implies you're going to be doing something other than falling asleep afterward."
He stared in surprise, and I watched as his face slowly started turning a deep shade of crimson. He ducked his head, stuffed his headphones and MP3 player into his pocket, and did his best to inch away slowly. Ahh, the workings of the simple-minded man. How nice it must be, not to be weighed down by trivial worries and too many thoughts, let alone the impression given to others when you sing songs about reading poorly written books of an erotic nature. I shook my head slowly, partially at Freddie, partially out of confusion with myself. My thoughts felt a bit too like those of Oscar Wilde in that moment, at least to me, and that was not something I normally allowed.
I decided to blame the boat. Half of this wouldn't be even occurring were I not on this bedamned boat.
"Freddie, Sam, Jeanette! Y'all come here a second!"
I wasn't exactly ready to comply, but my churning gut decided differently, and I wobbled and staggered after the two, keen to get this over with. Croc was waiting, the stolen map laid out on a small table, while Vic steered.
"Yes, Boss Croc?" Sam responded dutifully, an elementary school student eager to impress his new instructor. Croc's yellow eyes moved from him to Freddie, over his shoulder to Vic, then to me before he glanced down at the map. I knew nothing about reading them; to my eyes, poor as my sight was before you factored in my glasses, it only looked like so many lines and colors intermingling. He pointed with a claw to a specific spot amid all the blue, gently tapping the paper.
"We're about here. And we headin'," he slowly traced an invisible line to a small spot of green, "Right there. Be there in an hour, mebbe two."
"Then what, boss?" Freddie asked, voice betraying how nervous he felt. "I know we've gotta find Miss Eva, but where do we start?"
"She ain't gonna be out in the open, boys. Call it my…animal instinct. We gonna have to look for 'em. We huntin' for clues when we dock." He looked for their nods of consent, then looked to me. "Jeanette, ah know you don't wanna be here, but you mind helpin' us some more?"
And to my utter astonishment, he held out the lycanthropy book to me, clutched tenderly between his massive digits as though made of precious china. Wordlessly, I accepted, taking the book and giving him a skeptical expression.
"What exactly are you wanting me to do?" I asked.
"Like ah said at the offset, we need some brains here, help us think before just jumpin' into somethin'."
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Vic spoke up finally, glancing over his shoulder and looking positively furious, "Hold on just one second, Boss Croc! You're sayin' you want her help? No offense, but a bookworm's not my first choice for back-up!"
"Excuse me?!" I gasped in outrage, planting my fists on my hips.
"You heard me, glasses." He said loftily, turning his chin up at me. "You might as well stay here when we dock. This is a man's work. You can stay here and scrapbook you favorite quotes from all the chapters of 'Fifty Sha—'"
My temper exploded before he could finish, and I charged forward, clutching the book in both hands, and swung as hard as I could. It connected with a sickening CRACK! and Vic let out a yelp before crumpling, unconscious, to the floor.
"That," I snarled, "Was for having the audacity to even mention that literary TRASH around me!"
Chest heaving as I sucked in hoarse breaths, I turned to face the other three, daring any of them to follow the same vein of remarks. Sam and Freddie were staring open-mouthed, and Croc began to snicker slightly.
"You…just…hit…" Freddie spoke in a weak whimper.
"Start singing 'Thirteen Chapters' again and you're next!" I huffed. His eyes shot wide open and he jerked back, making Croc laugh even harder.
"I had a feelin' you'd make a good partnuh." He declared as he took the wheel. I wasn't entirely certain why the words of a criminal meant anything to me, but I could feel myself swelling with pride nonetheless.
"Then tell me what I need to know about Miss Eva and this scientist, if you please." I said. "So I can better put my brain to use."
Behind me, I heard Freddie whimpering and whining to Sam, "Oh, man! It's bad enough with her here! I don't know if I can survive a three hour ride back to the mainland with both her AND Eva on board!"
"Aww, it's not that bad, Fred. Come on, what can happen in three hours?"
"Yeah? I bet Gilligan said the same thing." He moaned.
A/N: Jeanette's making a habit of hitting people. Also, Croc's henchies. I double-checked the identity of these guys with a friend who is a huge Killer Croc fan. Only two of the three ever talk and are named, and those are Vic and Freddie. I've seen some debate as to what the name of the third guy is, and I've seen quite a few people refer to him as "Butch." I don't think of him as a "Butch." For some reason, I've always called him Sam. I don't know why, but it's my headcanon. So from here on out he's Sam, okay? And I wanted to develop his and Freddie's individual personalities just a little bit more, to give them more depth. (Poor Freddie's the buttmonkey for this chapter. And as for the song and "band" he's referring to, that's an inside joke between two friends and myself.)