Chapter 5

Stumbling

He was starving, always starving, ever since he had found himself in this walled off portion of the city; like a trap he had gone in and now found he couldn't get out. A hunger which he found barely sustainable in this prison. But just as sure as he would never escape his condition nor could he escape Arkham City.

In the gloom of the abandoned tunnel, Killer Croc sat hunched against the wall, glaring through the shadows. The fresh wounds upon his forearms and shoulders stinging - he had attempted to snatch someone off from the bridge, but he hadn't known about the snipers stationed above until they were taking potshots at him. Living in Arkham City was an endless cycle, but one he was not willing to quit, of hunting and killing - mindlessly like an animal - and then hiding. He would not roll over and die, like they all wanted him to.

It had been over a week now, and the ill chosen deal he had tried to strike had fallen through - he hadn't seen or smelt any trace of the little lying rat since. Everyone lied to get what they wanted, this fact was not new to him, but it made him no happier.

He really shouldn't have expected any better.

He had known at the time, and knew now, that he should have just snapped her neck and been done with it. But he was starving, desperate even, such an opportunity had never come along before - everyone he crossed with paths now either attacked him or ran away, no one tried talking. Very few came down here anymore, not since word had gotten out that he had moved in, and those that did were armed with guns. While his thick skin protected him adequately from most gun wounds, his enemies always seemed to aim for his face - he was not completely invulnerable and knew that one stray bullet might mean permanent blindness.

It was for the same reason that he usually didn't dare wander around on the surface, he presented too big of a target, and everyone was everywhere and they were all his enemies.

He looked up abruptly as he heard the distant thunder of feet. There was a scrap going on, he could hear the yells. Someone was below ground again, someone had dared trespass, and there sounded like there were several of them. Instinctively he rose to his feet and began to make his way over, there was no question in his mind, all he knew was that he was starving and some fools had decided to take the wrong path tonight.

They would regret it, and he would feast.

Earlier that night...

'What is Flippers thinking sending us out here? This is Joker's territory, if we get caught we're done for,' complained someone from the back of their group.

'Shut it.' hissed their big leader, Al, glaring back at the lot of them. 'And keep your eyes peeled. We're nearly there.'

The night before, three men has been sent to snoop around the outskirts of Joker's territory, on a reconnaissance mission. One of them had reported back to the Penguin over radio, saying they had struck gold, but since then nothing more had been heard of them.

Everyone in their right mind suspected immediately that they were dead, but the Penguin, already in a foul mood, had decided to send a group of them out anyway to find out what had happened. It was practically a suicide mission, Clara knew, the idea of which should have terrified her, but she found herself strangely numb to the idea - there was no option of not going through with it, not if she didn't want to be shot on the spot for treason.

'-ony.' Clara jolted out of her daze, realising that someone was speaking to her; everyone else had stopped walking. 'Hey street-rat, it's your turn now!'

'My turn for what?' she asked dumbly, feeling the heat rise in her face, she honestly couldn't remember what they were talking about. Damn it, if they didn't all look terrifying to her, but after a week working alongside them now, she was beginning to get used to it.

'To go ahead, what else?' grouched Avery, he still blamed her for One-eye's attack on him previously. 'You see, the team don't think it's very clever for all of us to go off into uncharted territory so quickly. We might all get shot. But you, all sneaky and fast, not so likely to die, see? So just scout out ahead, okay? Don't want Penguin to send us to the big man downstairs.'

Behind them the rest of the patrol was falling back into hiding in the shadows.

Clara nodded simply, knowing there was no point in arguing. This was what she had agreed to. She turned back to the face direction they had been heading, and quickly scuttled off ahead, a walkie-talkie secured in one pocket.

This was what always happened, and she felt kind of stupid having asked anything at all. Scout was her role, it was the role she had suggested and practically speaking it was probably the only one she would be any good at - but this didn't mean she liked it. She did realise that this was inevitable, and that if she did not pull her weight the others might decide that they did not want her around any longer.

Despite his apparent fatherly concern on her welfare regarding where she lived, One-eye had nothing against "Tony" risking her life on a daily basis, if anything he was proud.

Her "father" - as One-eye was still convinced he was - was unpredictable to say the least, more than once she had seen him snap at others, often swinging abruptly between different moods without warning. He was apparently a paranoid schizophrenic, that was what one person had told her, apparently the only reason Penguin even kept One-eye around anymore was because of his loyalty and long history with the gang.

Most of the time, the type of jobs Clara was sent on just involved running to drop off points for supplies. They sent her ahead as a scout often, while they waited back and listened. If she wasn't shot, which she hadn't been yet thankfully, then they would carry on with their mission.

One-eye was not sent on most of these missions, he tended to hang back at the museum and carry boxes around on account that he was nearly blind, all the while muttering to himself. He would greet her and talk to her when he was around, and stayed close to her on missions when they worked together, but he also had a nasty tendency to swat at her if he felt she wasn't behaving as she should. And he constantly talked about being watched, which was unnerving to say the least, but at least the others didn't dare bother her when he was around. She knew she still had to learn whom to trust and when to avoid others within the gang in the future.

She kept the name Tony, though no one really believed this was her name. Apparently there had already been a series of Tonys that One-eye had dragged in, they had all either run away or gotten themselves killed under his watch. Things didn't look particularly bright but what Clara really did appreciate though was the availability of food – though its quality and quantity left much to be desired.

And she no longer needed to stay out in the cold.

So she survived, but to do so she had to work, through which she could just as easily lose her life as retain it.

'Coast is clear,' she radioed back as soon as she had reached a deserted storeroom, and she quoted the name of the building back to her team leader.

'You see any sign of snipers, or possible lookouts?'

'It's all clear, but I-,' Clara decided not to voice her suspicions at the lack of activity, fearing rebuttal, perhaps being called a coward. 'No, I don't see no one.'

For a moment Clara stared with the others at the three men they had been sent to find, all three were not bound but they weren't moving either - all of them were very much dead, writing carved into their bare chests.

'The joke is on you!'

'It's a trap! Get out!' yelled their leader.

No sooner had he said this before the door behind them began to slide shut, and green gas began to pour in from vents in the ceiling.

The group scrambled to get out, in their wild fear there was no cooperation, everyone barged to get out first. Clara honestly thought she was going to be crushed to death, but having naturally been cautious she had hung back and was closer to the door. But even then she barely made it out, leaping at the last second so that her momentum would carry her on once she hit the floor, only just managing to slide out. The last man behind her though wasn't so lucky, he copied her move but was just a few seconds too slow, his hand was crushed beneath the door and he was trapped.

'Leave him!' shouted their leader over their trapped comrade's pained yells. 'We can't do anything, and he'll draw off the enemy while we escape!'

And to Clara's horror, but not to her surprise, they all ran on without so much as a backward glance. Only Clara herself looked back and cringed inside as the doomed man shouted curse after curse at them. The only comfort she could give herself was if she had had any other option, then this would not be the lifestyle she would have chosen.

They ran back the way they had came, only to find the warehouse they had passed through before was no longer empty. There was no one immediately behind them though, so thankfully it seemed that they were not being pursued yet, though hiding seven people was no easy feat either.

All seven of them were crouched silently behind a pile of empty crates. Clara was worried, not only because of the Joker's men but of her own team - they glancing amongst themselves, then looking back to her, it was almost as if she could read their minds, she knew immediately that they were going to ask her to play bait and draw their enemies away. Terrified at this prospect, she adamantly refused to make eye contact with any of them before anyone could ask her anything, she edged silently away from the main huddle to hide behind a pile of old tires

It was just then when one of Joker's thugs was passing by, when without warning, One-eye went berserk.

'Get out of there!' he yelled, lurching forward and out of his hiding spot. 'Get out of the way, Tony!' and caught her in a flying tackle, sending their cover of crates and tires toppling. And alerting everyone within the vicinity of exactly where they were.

Momentarily dazed from the fall, Clara caught a brief sight of her team fleeing before she heard the crack of guns. She scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could and ran after them, skirting around the fresh corpse of one of her fallen team members as she fled.

When they finally got back to the subway, there was only six of them left, one of whom was bleeding from his shoulder. Clara stuck close to One-eye, but was torn at doing this because she could practically feel the fierce aggression already directed his way, some of which was also at her – and she still didn't understand what had happened.

They were taking the subway back as it was the only route that bypassed the bridge to the Joker's land, which was no doubt heavily guarded. It was the way they had traveled in, and it was the way they were traveling out.

Clara's thoughts had immediately drifted to Killer Croc when she had first heard that they would be using this route, and it had worried her. She knew very well that she had broken her promise, and it was pretty much safe to assume that she had a lifelong enemy now. So far though, he hadn't shown, despite the considerable amount of noise the patrol must have made in passing through, she could only hope that with the patrol's numbers the cannibal would be wary and stay well away until they were out again.

'Do you want to explain exactly what the hell happened back there?' shouted one of them at One-eye.

'The enemy spotted us,' One-eye replied blatantly, completely unconcerned. 'I don't understand what this has to do-'

'You leapt out into the open, screwing us, and our mission, over completely!' yelled Avery, spittle flying from his mouth in his rage. One-eye eyed him nonchalantly for a moment, then promptly knocked him to the ground with a crushing blow to the head. There were several yells of fury and suddenly a scrap was in full swing as two of the downed man's friends sprang to his defense.

A blade quickly appeared in One-eye's hands.

'Stop this now!' roared Al, asserting his authority by drawing a handgun from inside his jacket. 'We are not some mindless rabble like Joker's rats! One-eye, you're going to have to explain personally to Penguin what exactly you did tonight! The rest of you, chill the hell out! We've got injured, and unless you want to join their ranks I would advise a little cooperation!'

The brawl split up and One-eye's blade disappeared back into his pockets. Clara eyed the lot warily, keeping a fair distance between herself and the nearest clenched fist. Other than a few bruises from being unexpectedly tackled by One-eye back in the warehouse, she was uninjured and would prefer it stayed that way.

Her face and fingertips prickled, terror doing funny things to her circulation, she was doing the best to keep a straight face though, even so she was near hyperventilating. She had seen death again tonight, she could have just as easily died herself - though it wasn't the first time - still it didn't help that she didn't trust any of her 'comrades' as far as she could throw them.

Something clattered loudly down one of the tunnels nearby, and hoots of laughter abruptly became audible behind them.

'They are still chasing us?' shouted the injured man in disbelieving despair.

Sure enough, seconds later, a large group of Joker's men came hurtling down the tunnels towards them. Though they came to a standstill for a moment, leering and jeering just a dozen meters away when Penguin's team brought out their own weapons - they had seen Al's gun. Clara wondered for a hideous moment if they would have to make a stand, it wasn't a fair fight and no doubt more enemies were already on their way to join the fight.

It was almost unnoticeable at first, but the ground was certainly shaking. There was a distant thundering that was slowly getting louder and louder.

Then the wall behind them collapsed in a great cloud of dust.

Clara raised her arms to shield her eyes, but not in time to miss seeing one of men standing only feet away from her being crushed beneath the falling rubble. A bestial roar filled the tunnel, everyone froze where they stood. Something huge and green barrelled out from the rubble, crushing concrete and sending bricks flying.

For a moment Killer Croc stood in the middle of the tunnel, and Clara could have sworn their eyes met.

But perhaps because he didn't recognize her in that split second, or perhaps because he was presented with too many choices at once, Croc promptly grabbed the nearest person to the wall which just happened to be one of the Joker's men and ignored her.

What remained of Penguin's rescue party took advantage of the pandemonium to escape with their lives. Clara heard the cracking of shots being fired as she turned tail to flee with the others.

As they entered the museum, Avery broke off to help the injured man.

There was what appeared to have been a chaotic brawl in the arena area, and they had to wait a few minutes before the locked gates were opened again so that they could pass through. Clara saw more death, this time upon the floor. She knew she would have to get used to it, as long as she was in the 'city' she would be encountering it on a daily basis.

The Penguin was congratulating the winner of the brawl when their group made it up the stairs to him. He immediately lost interest in the brawl champion and looked them over with narrowed eyes.

'Well? Did you find them?' he demanded, the question a threat in itself.

'They were already dead. It was a trap, the Joker had already set it up,' said Al, in a level voice. 'Someone ratted on us, sir. We were spotted, and they were ready. We lost three men, a further one was injured.'

'And what was the reason for this failure?' Cobblepot asked menacingly, leaning forward upon his cane. 'Tell me, I would really like to know.'

'One-eye blew our cover, he'll explain why now,' replied Al, gratefully retreating from his boss's fearsome gaze.

'I didn't do that, they had already seen us,' grumbled One-eye, his one clouded eye meeting that of Cobblepot evenly. 'They had the whole place guarded, they weren't taking any chances. What I don't understand is, where they got all those guns? That is what we should be focusing on.'

Clara still didn't quite understand why One-eye had done what he did, she could only assume what she already knew – that he was completely crazy.

'Oh,' The Penguin paused to angrily puff a cloud of smoke, his sharp eyes then darted to Clara where she stood awkwardly a little way away from the others. 'Tell me, Tony, what was your account of things on this bloody awful night?'

'M-me? I-I,' Clara quickly cleared her throat, and looked all too briefly at her options and their implications in a desperation to answer. 'I think they might have seen us. That is, they were guarding the place, I don't know who they spotted first.'

'Avery, why don't you tell us what you saw?' he then asked the man who One-eye had thumped not ten minutes before.

'They hadn't seen us, then One-eye leaps out from his hiding spot, shouting and yelling before he tackled Tony half way across the room,' Avery didn't hesitate in answering, his face was devoid of any emotion but Clara could see the beginnings of the formation of a dark bruise upon his bald head and the clenching and unclenching of his fists indicated a more fearsome mood. 'The Joker's crew chased us into the underground, then Killer Croc popped up out of nowhere. While they were shooting at him, the rest of us got away.'

The Penguin's gaze now returned to her, and Clara could swear he was sneering at her from behind his cigar. If he thought she was lying, then it might be the end of her. Then a freakish smile broke his face, and he took the cigar from his mouth.

'I've just had a brilliant idea, I have.' he said, sarcastic joy dripping from each syllable. 'As you may, or may not already know, your little mission isn't the only one to get botched up tonight! So I'm not feeling particularly charitable right now. The thing you mugs must understand, is that I am in charge, I get what I want, not the other way around! So tell me, what might a fellow like myself want after he's just lost a bunch of his lads?'

'Revenge?'

'Revenge? Pah! In this sort of situation, that is secondary, what I need is replacements!' he paused to puff at his cigar again. 'You mentioned that you spotted Killer Croc down in the underground, I was wondering where he had been hiding his ugly mug. He worked for Black Mask in the past didn't he? And as far as I know, he isn't now...'

Cobblepot let the last sentence hang in the air like bait, even though it was already clear he had made up his mind. Al spoke up, when none of the others dared.

'Sir, with all due respect, that was more than five years ago and things have changed,' he said.

'Hmm, and hows that?'

'Killer Croc, well, he was put in Arkham Asylum wasn't he? I saw him just a few months before it closed down and, well if he was considered a freak before I don't know what you would consider him now. If we send down any men to try to reason with him, we'll have even less that we do now. He won't talk to them, he'll just eat them. It's too risky.'

'Which is exactly why I was just about to make the suggestion that One-eye junior acts as our ambassador,' the Penguin finished with a nasty smile, looking at Clara. 'You told us you were disposable, so prove your usefulness. After all, you've already proved yourself a hazard tonight.'

Clara's mind did not immediately catch up with what she was expected to do, she was still busy trying to comprehend how it had been her fault that the earlier mission had gone so wrong. Apart from One-eye, they all glared fiercely at her now. What exactly had she done wrong; wasn't it One-eye' fault that they had been spotted? Or were angry with her simply because she didn't belong? Scrawny and ill looking by comparison, she imagined she must just look like a joke to most of them.

'What is it exactly you want me to do?' she managed to ask with calm face.

'Now that more like it, no more distractions, no more excuses,' the Penguin deliberately danced around the question, irritation still obvious in his voice. 'I want you to go back to where you saw Killer Croc. Find him and offer him a place amongst our ranks. If he agrees then I win, if he says no and eats you I still win coz I'll have one less problem to deal with.'

'Might you not just piss him off?' asked Al. 'If you really want him as muscle, he's only going to listen if his life is at stake.'

'Shut yer gob, Al! Are you suggesting I arm Tony? We already know what is going to happen tonight, all of us, I'm not going to lose anything further. Tony, any last requests?'

'Food!' she said without thinking, and then quickly added: 'So that he'll listen. If I'm to get a word in, he's going to need to be chewing on something else first.'

'And you don't think that I reckon you might just scarper with whatever I give you?' the Penguin replied, but then he paused. After a few moments he turned to look at one of his body guards. 'Actually on second thought. Tell them down in the kitchen to bring up some meat, they don't need to bother cooking it, tell them it's for an animal.'

'I need a whole carcass up by the entrance to the arena, now,' barked the bodyguard into the radio-receiver hanging around his neck. 'No cooking, no skin and nothing special!'

'Please, sir, you will be sending my boy to his death,' One-eye finally spoke up. 'I admit that I screwed up in tonight's mission! Panic overcame me, see?'

'You know, I was actually toying with the idea of sending you in his place, One-eye,' The Penguin laughed. 'Get rid of your old crumbling carcass and be done with it. But no, my decision is final. Tony is obviously the cause of tonight's screw up, he will prove his worth or die trying, that is how things work here!'

Less than 10 minutes later she was descending back down into the subway, her heart in her mouth, her pulse pounding in her ears and a skinned defrosting carcass of a lamb wrapped loosely in cloth tied to her back. One-eye and Jim, the drunken guard she had seen sitting in the red and white deckchair when she had first arrived, were with her for the moment; the Penguin had already threatened One-eye though and made it explicitly clear that if he tried to accompany Clara into the tunnels then he would be used as target practice, no matter how 'old a fan of the club' he was. Jim was there just to make sure things went as they were supposed to.

'Here we are, good luck, son,' One-eye stated as they reached the point at which they could see the end of the old carriages. He patted her upon the shoulder and looked as if he wanted to say more.

'Callum, we need to go,' the other henchmen called, wise enough to not try physically forcing One-eye to follow after him. 'Get going, Tony!' he shouted at Clara when One-eye didn't move.

Clara nodded, and began to amble off on her own, refusing to look back. As she left though she could hear the two talking.

'He is not your son, you know?'

'You think I wouldn't recognise my own boy?' scoffed One-eye.

And then they were out of earshot and she was alone.

Clara tugged at the ropes around her shoulders and headed deeper into the underground.

A/N: Next chapter, Killer Croc becomes a much more permanent fixture in the story - sorry for him barely appearing in this chapter.

I know that this story has been mainly OC orientated up until now, but I plan to bring in - even if briefly - more of the 'Arkamites' from the game into the story, and of course include more of Croc.

Quick summary of this chapter:

Clara has been under the guise of Tony for around a week in the Penguin's gang. Her normal role in missions she is sent out on with the others is to act as a scout - checking out the area before the rest move in, e.g. if she gets shot then they know it's not safe. However, one night after one of the Penguin's men are suspected of being abducted by the Joker's gang, Clara finds herself as a part of a rescue mission to retrieve them.

The mission is a failure though, the men abducted have already been executed and One-eye exhibits strange unexplained behavior which alerts the gang to exactly where they are. They barely make it into the subway, however they are followed. Just when it looks like things are going to turn sour, Killer Croc shows up unexpectedly. In the ensuing chaos in which Croc attacks the nearest person - who just happens to be one of Joker's guys - Clara and the rest of the rescue party escape.

The Penguin is furious at the bad news. When it becomes clear that One-eye's actions were the main reason for the further deaths - in his attempt to protect 'Tony' from some unseen danger - the Penguin decides to get rid of Clara, however he places a bet at the same time = he decides to send her to recruit Killer Croc (whom he is sure will kill 'Tony'), the wager being that if Clara dies then he is rid of a problem but if she succeeds then he gains a powerful ally.