Chapter 9

Uncertainty

Having last been seen being carried off by none other than Killer Croc himself, no one had expected to see Clara again. So when word spread that crazy old One-eye's son substitute was still crawling around, no one quite believed it. Not even One-eye himself - though rather he was convinced the whole thing had seen some sort of nasty trick the others had been playing on him and that there had never been any real threat to "Tony's" life.

'I'm not to go on any further missions with ya, the boss thinks you make me screw up,' he informed her one evening. 'I'm only worth so much, see? As soon as I lose the other eye, your old man is history.'

Clara didn't really mind, One-eye rarely left the museum anyway, his long-sightedness meant he wasn't much good for field work unless it was an highly dangerous mission - he was suitable in this case as the Penguin regarded him as nearing 'retirement age'.

It had been over a week since loud-mouthed Frankie had tried to push her off the balcony now. Frankie was still around, and he was still dangerous, but Clara had so far been able to mostly evade him. He didn't like her, she knew that, but he wasn't going out of his way if he was busy to harm her, she had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time before.

Even so, she hadn't been able to avoid trouble altogether, the bruises on her face were proof of that. It hadn't been Frankie though but the bad tempered Avery, an enemy of One-eye, who was only too happy to take out his anger on someone connected to his nemesis. She had been told it was because she hadn't been fast enough in her scouting trip that night, but she knew it was because Avery had had an argument with the patrol's leader.

Clara had barely escaped what could have been serious injuries, having broke into a run as soon as the first blow had struck home, despite her reeling head she was fast and knew how to hide. An open air ventilation system had seemed reasonable, and some part of her feverish thoughts stuck on the idea that perhaps if she followed the vents far enough then maybe she might be able to get out of the building and flee back into the streets, she felt reckless and was ready to brave the cold.

And then she had run into Croc.

Now when she looked at Croc she found she no longer regarded him as an inhumane monster, but nor did she quite see him as human - to be honest she didn't really regard anyone here as human, they were likely all monsters in some form or another. Instead she saw him as simply another danger to avoid, but at the same time it was only logical to think that if he had saved her once then he could do it again.

She had watched him and wondered, ever since the week before. There was only one feeling that filled her mind, and it was not terror nor even gratitude but jealousy. Clara wasn't stupid, in fact she reckoned she was reasonably clever, and in turn this meant she also had the potential to be quite sly. She could by no means manipulate her own physical strength but already an idea had formed in her mind. If she could not have power herself then perhaps she could use that of someone else's - namely Croc - the only question now was how?

When she had found him this time, Clara had seen the change in him, she wouldn't fool herself into thinking that he wanted her around, but she knew that at least he tolerated her. Psychology was not a field she had ever covered, and what made things even worse was that it was nearly impossible to guess what Croc was thinking. He would be snarling one second, then fuming silently the next - only she couldn't really tell if he was fuming.

He needn't have agreed to anything, she wasn't offering anything return, but he had anyway. Clara had her own suspicions that he might still turn nasty, but she couldn't help but hold onto the vague hope that perhaps at the very least found her less annoying than the others. Was he even capable of empathy? He was supposed to be cannibalistic mass murderer who had been committed to an asylum until recently. She knew that any form of kindness here had to be scrutinised carefully.

'It's quite simple really.' the Penguin was saying. 'The Joker really likes to stick his fingers near the metaphorical fan blades, meaning that sooner rather than later he overreaches and screws up. Recently, his gang's been trying to reach over the river, but we're not going to let that happen!'

Clara was standing near Enrique, listening with her arms crossed, trying to look as big as possible. The patrol weren't paying any attention to her though, they were all busy listening to the Penguin who was briefing them on tonight's mission.

There was a building just north of the steel mill on their side of the river, supposedly Joker was now beginning to transfer his power over in order to expand his empire. Their patrol party, some 30 strong, 10 of whom were armed with assault riffles, and a tank to back them up - or rather Croc - were to take out any opposition they might find in the place.

'Kid, you don't need to stress so much,' Enrique said to her as they neared their destination around half an hour later, they had already passed through Two-Face's domain, so a relatively sense of calm had descended. 'We're a big party, well armed.'

'Yeah, well you don't have to go in alone first,' replied Clara, doing her best to sound indifferent. 'Besides, I'm good at my job. If I wasn't, I'd be dead by now. I can stress as much as I like if I can still get the job done.' She squared her shoulders and held her head high, trying her best to look more imposing. One of Enrique's friends, with a mohawk, dark skin and a large gut, slapped her on the shoulder laughing.

'You're got some heart kid.' he said. 'You're alright.'

'Quiet back there, Elvis!' their patrol leader hissed back at them, stalking back to square off with Elvis personally, he also glared briefly at Clara but didn't seem to think she was worth any further intimidation. 'We're professionals, not pranksters! That's what separates us, from them! It is why we'll ultimately win and Joker's lot will be left to rot in the gutter. Got it?!'

Clara glanced back over her shoulder as Elvis hastily apologised. She knew loud-mouthed Frankie was not on this particular mission, though he had supposed to be - no one had been able to find him when it was time to leave - but he wasn't who she was looking for. She could see Croc heading up the rear of the patrol, a small distance behind the rest of them because everyone was certain to keep a fair distance ahead of him. He was the Penguin's trump card, though his alliance was no longer such a secret, Joker and Two-Face had both no doubt had reports of his presence by now.

And somehow, Joker had known they were coming.

Nonchalantly Croc had watched as Tony ran off ahead on her own, sent to scout out the area ahead. Not five minutes later though she had burst out from the building being chased by what at first appeared to be two dogs, but he quickly realised they were hyenas of all things. Needless to say, as soon as these two unfortunate animals appeared on the street they were shot down in volley of bullets, only narrowly missing Tony who promptly flung herself behind a dustbin for cover.

Then the foot soldiers arrived. The regiment was led by none other than Harley Quinn herself, all of them were armed with firearms. Quinn managed to hurl a volley of choice insults in a banshee like wail a them, and then an all out gunfight broke out.

Only for moments later for the Joker's side to retreat back into the building, way too easily. They had headed in after them nonetheless.

As they went deeper into the building the group began to split up. Tony being sent up the stairs alone. There didn't appear to be anyone there, Croc immediately assumed they were hiding, but found that he couldn't smell them either and dropped his guard. Had they really just retreated like that?

'BANG!'

Abruptly there was uproar, several explosions going off in sequence behind them, the roof caved in and blocked the main exit. And over the rumble of raining rubble it he could just vaguely hear the intercoms echoing out around the building.

'I'm sorry, chaps, but this is a private residence,' Joker distinctive cackle could be heard over the speakers. 'No animals allowed. That includes penguins! But don't worry about my little pest problem, because I've just called the exterminators and they've kindly organised for the entire place to be fumigated! Good day to you all!'

Croc wasn't really listening though, he was running to get out of there. All around him the others were scrambling to get out too, he paid them no attention and probably knocked more than a few over in his hurry. That was when a new danger presented itself, he caught scent of it before he saw it, green laughing gas was hissing in from canisters placed around the walls.

Killer Croc hadn't felt fear for many years now, there was little that could threaten him, but he was not invincible and he remembered the agony of the last explosion he had been caught in. The one that had torn through Gotham Pier when the carnival exploded as he had fought to put out the unquenchable flames side by side with his many panicking co-workers. It had all been over in a flash when the fire reached the generators and set the fuel alight. He remembered the searing white heat and falling into the harbour, covered in gashes caused by flying debris, his whole body aching as if it had been crushed beneath building, and nearly everyone else was dead. But even though that wasn't now, it felt almost as if it could be.

Croc did not consider himself a coward, but right now he knew he had to get out. It Joker was going to bring this whole place down anyway, what was the point in being crushed along with it?

The house was narrow and did not allow Croc much room to move, but he saw a hall and began to charge down it, intent on knocking down the far end wall. Only then one inmate darted ahead of him in a manic attempt to escape, and as they slowed down to wrestle useless with the bars blocking one window, he realised it was Tony.

He only just managed to stop himself short of crushing her, then the roof above him fell down.

Clara shielded her head and ducked into a corner, keeping herself as small as possible until the cave-in was over. The rumbling went on for a while as the structure of the rest of the house teetered on the verge of collapse.

When she eventually looked up she found that the entire ceiling of the room just a few meters away from her had caved in. The rumbling had stopped, and in the silence she saw that a thin layer of powdered plaster settled over everything, the barred window to her left had lost most of its glass but she already knew she couldn't get out that way.

She turned her attention then to the rubble, from which she could see no movement. Clara realised that she was alone and that Killer Croc had to be buried beneath the mound of brick and mortar in front of her.

In the ensuing silence she sat still for several moments, not knowing what to do.

Dereck was looking down at her from the top of the pile of rubble, shaking his head.

'Clara, just go home, this career choice just isn't working out for you,' he said.

'Don't you think I would have if I could?!' she snapped at him, but drew a self-destructive comfort from the fact that she could still see him. 'It wasn't my fault! None of it was my fault! It couldn't have been avoided!'

'There were plenty of opportunities you could have taken that would have led away from this path,' Dereck said, opening a briefcase and taking out a stack of papers which he began to look over. 'There are many 'ifs', so many in fact that I don't think I could ever list them all. Trivial tiny things.'

'That doesn't matter anymore!' she replied, but there was less force behind her words, she knew the argument was pointless as she was arguing with herself not Dereck, who had been lain to rest in a coffin for over a year now. 'I will continue to survive! Dereck would never have wanted anything else.'

'Him over you? Are you sure about that? What about mom and dad? What about his friends, his wife?' Dereck was beginning to look a lot less like Dereck now and whole lot more like a twisted warped shadow.

'There is nothing I can do now, I just need to get out of here-' Clara stopped as the rubble in front of her shifted and Dereck vanished like a puff of smoke.

A clawed hand abruptly broke free through the rubble, grasping at the air before swiping down and digging into the ground, it was shortly followed by another. Clara nervously shifted from foot to foot in the corner as Killer Croc dug his way partially out of the rubble, his arms clearing the fallen bricks and mortar from over his head. He snorted once, clearing his lungs, then blinked his eyes and spotted Clara pressing herself back into the wall.

'Little rat,' he grumbled, then he pushed up with his arms again as he tried to pull the rest of himself free. Instead the rubble above him shifted and more landslided down. Exhausted by his efforts to get free, he rested for a moment.

'Y-you okay?' she asked nervously, inching closer to the barred window – even though there was no way of her getting through it if things did turn nasty.

He merely snarled wordlessly in reply.

'Maybe I can help?' she suggested, though she had no idea if she could actually do anything in this situation.

Killer Croc completely disregarded her now, closing his eyes and snarling again. Still half buried beneath the heavy rubble, Clara realised he had to be in pain, she knew if she, or anyone else normal, had been in his place they would dead. Clara's only escape route though lay through the pile of rubble that Croc was currently buried under, and the only way she was going to be able to move it was if he could help. So despite every instinct screaming at her to keep her distance, Clara moved over to grab and pull away at the lighter rubble, throwing it back into the empty corner she had been in before.

Croc was watching her, he tried to shift again, this time he moved a little further forward but once again further rubble settled down on top. He stopped, realising that he was in danger of re-burying himself if he moved too fast. Clara continued trying to clear away what she could.

She could now see a gap over the top of the rubble into the next room, if she wanted she could flee now and leave Croc behind.

But she didn't.

The action of her staying when she could have gone though was not completely altruistic. She knew she would be safer travelling if she wasn't alone, and then there was also the fact that when Killer Croc did get out he would no doubt be furious. 'See it as an opportunity to make friends!' her mind suggested with an insane giggle, causing Clara to nearly laugh out loud because of the preposterous idea. But if there was even the slightest chance she could get on his good side, she knew she would have the one of the strongest of bodyguards that Arkham City had to offer.

With that thought in mind, she put extra force into her digging.

'Where are the others?' Croc asked, resting again.

'I think they all left,' she replied, uneasily, she still felt nervous when she spoke to him. 'I haven't heard or seen anyone since before the roof collapsed.'

Croc growled in exertion as he tried to pull himself free again. He was free up to his waist now and it would only take another try or so for him to be out altogether. There were several gashes running down his back and over his arms where rebar and other sharp debris had cut into him. The wounds bled sluggishly, but it alarmed Clara nonetheless as she had somehow thought that Croc couldn't be hurt.

'I heard you speaking to someone,' he stated, molten eyes regarding her suspiciously.

'...There wasn't anyone else,' she said after a pause, suddenly horribly embarrassed. How much had he heard? 'You know I'm not lying, you'd be able to smell them, wouldn't you?'

Croc heaved again, and finally pulled himself free, he lay still for a moment and without thinking Clara reached forward to dust off some of the dust that had accumulated in between the ridges of scales upon his back. She drew back instantly when Croc shifted, turning to look at her suspiciously.

'I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking,' she apologised quickly, stepping back and looking away, but she couldn't move far in the confined space.

Croc didn't reply, seemingly having lost interest in her again, and was now sitting up and rolling his shoulders and neck. Clara for a moment watched him, awed by his sheer presence, and not for the first time wished she could borrow his strength for just one day; then maybe she could smash her way out of the compound and escape. Then she turned away before he could notice her gaze and became aggravated.

She began climb up the mound of rubble, past Croc, carefully picking her footing, keeping low so that her profile was less visible as she reached the top and looked over. She could see that most of the rooms beyond had also had their ceilings collapse, though she could no longer see any signs of the green laughing gas – apparently the outrush of air from the collapsing structure had dissipated it. There was no movement beyond, but Clara could see several dust covered forms that looked suspiciously like bodies.

'I don't think our patrol is here any longer,' she said, looking back over her shoulder to Croc. 'But maybe it's best we get out now, I don't think we won and more of Joker's crew will be turning up soon.'

Croc was regarding her curiously from where he still sat, when he stood up he had to crouch because the ceiling was too low, Clara began to see a logistical problem in getting Croc out through the tiny crack of light she was half through now.

'Erm, I think we're going to need to do a bit more digging,' she suggested.

'What do they call you?' Croc asked unexpectedly, grasping the metal bars of the shattered window and tearing it out with ease, opening a hole in the wall. What remained of the ceiling overhead rumbled ominously but stayed put.

'What do they call me?' Clara paused for a moment, surprised as she was sure that he would have overheard the others talking to her. 'They call me Tony.' She tried to smile at him, but was unable to hold it, and quickly looked away again. She looked up nervously as dust began to fall from the ceiling, the destruction of the window having further destabilised the structural integrity of the building.

Croc got out of the building, quickly followed by Clara.

The cold night air hit them and Clara shivered, digging her hands deep into her pockets to stop the shaking of her fingers, and wondered if Killer Croc could feel the chill as well.

He was aching all over, his wounds stung. He was in the middle of freaking nowhere, the rest of the gang had ran off, and he was freezing! And now he was going to have to walk miles to get back.

'Should we look for survivors?' Tony asked, jogging to catch up with him. She seemed torn at the idea of leaving, and kept glancing back towards the ruin. Croc didn't feel such responsibilities though, and continued trudging onwards, ignoring Tony as she skittered about uncertainly.

A warm trickle ran down the inside of his arm, he looked down and with irritation wiped the blood off on his trousers, the injuries were not all that bad, he had survived much worse.

'You're bleeding,' Tony commented unexpectedly.

'I ain't dead,' Croc replied, he glared when she flinched away, but that was to be expected - most people would have been running away by now. 'How did you get in with Penguin's boys anyhow? How many did ya have to kill?'

Tony was silent for a moment, and Croc suspected that she was going to blank him as people often did when they wanted to get away from him.

'...I didn't get in the traditional way.' Tony said abruptly, wringing her hands nervously, but he was surprised to note that she was making an effort to keep up with him. 'It's kind of hard to explain. What I basically mean is that I never had to face anyone in the fighting pit.'

That explained a few things, Croc knew from the past few days that anyone who wanted to get into the gang had to fight for the right, and most of thought who fought didn't survive the match, especially if the Penguin grew bored. Croc hadn't needed to go through this ritual, there was no question about his strength, but frail little Tony didn't look like she would have lasted long at all. How had she got in?

Tony took his silence response as a cue to elaborate.

'It's kind of funny actually,' Tony continued, she didn't sound remotely amused though, chewing on her lip and looking away. 'One of them thinks he knows me, thinks we're related or something, the Penguin is just humouring him by letting me stay on. I don't know for how much longer it's going to last though.'

He grunted, acknowledging her statement. 'Most people don't want others around once they've outlived their use,' he agreed.

'I don't really fancy being thrown in the shark lake though, or fed to his monster, so I hope that doesn't happen anytime soon,' Tony replied, sounding a little more confident now that he was also talking.

'His monster?' Croc asked a bit sharply, wondering if she had inadvertently referred to him. Tony seemed to pick up on this because she fell back a little, putting more space between them.

'I didn't mean-, he keeps this thing locked up in a dungeon under the dining hall,' she said quickly. 'I've never seen it, I don't even know what it is, but I know he's dropped people down there that have disappointed him. Simply calls him the "big man".'

Croc vaguely knew what she was talking about, he smelt the scent of carrion the few times he had been in the dining hall and at first had thought it came from the kitchens, later though he realised the scent was rising up, eerily through the floor itself though it appeared to be made of solid stone.

There was a great hubbub in the front hall when they got back. Clara at first thought that perhaps Zsasz had broken free, but then she caught sight of him leering at the chaos from behind the glass in the cabinet he was locked in. She didn't stop to ask what had happened, and followed in Croc's wake before the others had a chance to block the way inadvertently as they crowded around - either trying to force their way through or make their way out again.

Croc pushed forth through the crowd like an ice-breaker, those who didn't see him coming were knocked sprawling.

When they reached the arena, and one of the first things Clara noticed was that there was a massive hole in one of the walls, amongst other things most of the fencing around the ring was either torn up or gone completely. Croc had stopped, and was sniffing the air. After a moment he seemed to blanch, then he was moving again. She was half tempted to follow him but found she had no reason to do so.

The Penguin was no where to be seen, nor were any others she immediately recognised from the failed mission, so Clara wasn't quite sure where to check-in. Clara had spotted Enrique by now talking with some other people, he had been part of the patrol and he wasn't particularly nasty, maybe he knew what she was supposed to do now? She decided to break off here.

'Erm, see you later Croc,' she said hesitantly, and when he barely glanced at her in recognition she turned away and went over to the others.

'Hey Tony! You're still alive!' Enrique immediately said, now sporting a bandaged left arm and several small gashes in his face from flying shrapnel. 'We all thought that your skills had finally failed you.'

'Nah, I just got a little hold up by the cave-in,' she replied, downplaying the situation with a toothy smile, then gestured rather exaggeratedly at the scene before them. 'So what did I miss? Looks like it was quite the party.'

'Don't feel left out, we missed it too, bud,' said Elvis pushing Enrique out of the way so he could speak. 'Apparently Bane broke in here. You know, the big bulky guy with the steroid problem? I think he was after TITAN, the same stuff that the Joker was using the night of the Arkham breakout last year, the stuff that made him sick, don't know why anyone would want it after that…'

'And he made all this mess?' she asked disbelievingly at the utterly destroyed room. 'How the hell did the Penguin get rid of him!?'

'Two words,' replied Elvis holding his breath for one moment for dramatic effect. 'Solomon Grundy.'

Later that night, Killer Croc made his way outside into the cargo bay behind the museum, though it was cold he knew she was out here somewhere and he was going to find her. Perhaps it was out of boredom that he sought her out, he wasn't sure, there was little to do around the museum when you weren't working after all. He had more than once hung around in the Iceberg Lounge, but right now he did not want the bright lights, the loud voices and the staring.

There were people out here too, though not many of them, huddled around fires burning in tin barrels, eating their food rations and talking amongst themselves in low voices. They watched him warily, and more than a few actually moved away from where they had been standing to get away. Croc paid no attention to them though, following his nose until he came upon a large pile of wooden crates. Tony was somewhere very close by. He could hear her talking quietly but to his surprise he couldn't smell anyone else.

He crouched down with a huff to look between the crates where some had been pushed aside, and was rewarded with the sight of Tony whacking her head when she leapt up in surprise at his abrupt appearance.

'H-hey, Croc,' she said trying to sound friendly, but wasn't able to completely keep the fear out of her voice. 'What's up?'

Croc regarded her for a moment, then shifted uncomfortably to cross his arms over his chest.

'You're hiding,' he commented, then he moved to sit down so that his shadow was no longer looming over her.

'Maybe. I dunno, it's not like I'm doing something I'm not supposed to,' replied Tony uneasily, drawing her legs closer to herself.

Croc looked back over his shoulder and could see the others still milling around, none of them were showing any interest in coming over to investigate though, and it was just well, he had quickly come to the conclusion that Tony was deliberately avoiding them.

'The others, they still give you trouble?' he asked as casually as he could, but he actually found speaking like this rather awkward. Why was he out here again? He was no good at small talk.

'Not when I'm working, umm, usually,' Tony answered indirectly. She was pulling herself out from her hiding spot to sit slightly closer to him, she was trying to smile again but it was clear she was struggling, body as tense as a spring.

'Hmph,' Croc crossed his arms, then winced as his claws grazed past one of the deep cuts on his arm.

'Are you okay?' Tony asked, then as if realising she had done something wrong her eyes widened. 'I don't mean to be patronising or anything like that, it's just that your cuts...'

'They'll heal,' Croc replied with a snort, the abrupt sound caused Tony to recoil and hit her head again; this was getting irritating... 'Stop that, I'm not going to eat you! Your fear it's stinking up the place.'

This of course only made things worse, Tony had picked up on the aggression in his voice and had frozen, she wasn't running but she wasn't talking either. She looked so suspicious of him, so untrusting and for a moment he fell some sort of kinship with her.

Croc exhaled, and then gestured for her to come closer. Tony stayed where she was.

'I'm not going to bite,' he growled, unable to avoid feeling a little irritated. 'Just stand so I'm not towering over you...Tony was it?'

'Yes, that's what they call me,' she replied, shakily getting to her feet and doing her best to hold her head high. 'Is there something you need help with?'

'I don't want nothing right now, just trying to talk,' he told her, but saying this just made her look more uneasy. 'You remember that deal we made? The one about me not swatting you if you wanted to use me as deterrent? I wanted to change the rules a little.'

She nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue, her gaze on the ground as if she expected the worse.

'I'm upping the offer, I'm offering full protection-'

'R-really? You would do that?' Tony interrupted, and her overeager expression gave everything away on how desperate she was for such a solution; but it was then that she seemed to remember who she was talking to and asked more coldly. 'What would you want in return?'

'…' Croc was silent for a moment, he had already thought about this before he had even come looking for her but he wasn't sure how to phrase it. He jabbed a thumb towards where the others were eating. 'I want you to rat on the others, you tell me everything that you hear going on in this gang. You tell me of any plans they or the Penguin have. I don't normally get told anything until it's crunch time, a need to know only basis, and I don't like it.'

'I can try- I mean I can do that,' Tony nodded her head assuredly. 'Anything I hear, I'll go straight to you.' Then she wrung her hands a little. 'I should probably point out now that I don't hear everything, I don't generally go anywhere near the Penguin's war room or anything like that, I just overhear stuff from others.'

'That will do for now,' Croc agreed, and got to his feet. 'When I think of something else, you'll know.'

'Alright, it's a deal,' Tony said, holding out one dainty hand to him. She wanted to shake hands with him? Tony began to withdraw her hand after a few moments but quickly his black claws caught around her wrist and held it firmly in place. Her bony wrist felt like a twig in his grip, and just as fragile.

'Deal,' he rumbled, and then just as quickly he let go.

A/N: The brief Bane reference was referring to an event in the Arkham: Unhinged comics.

Thank you for the reviews :)

TurtleKidTheWoolGatherer = I'm sort of glad everyone is coming across quite selfish, at this point in time everyone is just out to keep themselves alive. Any selfless thoughts that Clara might have for anyone else are locked away at this point, she doesn't trust anyone and only fights on to keep herself alive. Ironically this is pretty much the same for Killer Croc.

SunnyCroc = You know you just gave me an idea for later on in the story regarding the name thing. I love your reviews! :D

Quick summary of this chapter:

About a week has passed, Clara has not being having a very fun time. The others within the gang have taken to hitting her and insulting her when One-eye isn't around, as they see her as a waste of resources as well as an easy target to take out any frustrations they might be feeling. Clara quickly learns how to avoid such situations but one evening she is cornered by Avery - an enemy of One-eye's - who tries to beat her up. She is only just able to escape, hiding in a air vent she finds. Desperate to escape, she scrambles up along it, intent on following as far as it will go to leave. She ended up running into Croc again whom she then formed a semi-alliance with - semi as in with not very clear details, though Clara believes it will help her survive.

There is a mission to stop the Joker from expanding his territory beyond the river. He somehow already knows about this plan though, and a trap is sprung including explosions and laughing gas. Croc and Clara are separated from the others in the confusion. They have to make their way back on their own.

When they return they find that in the meantime, Bane has apparently smashed up the area and made a huge hole in the wall. Clara goes to talk to the others to find out more. Later on, when she is sitting out on her own, Croc deliberately goes searching for Clara to talk to her. He reassures her of their previous deal in an agreement that she will share any information she overheards from the others with him.