The big man looked tired and more than a little queasy, but he refused to listen to Johan's or Anya's advice to take a break. He couldn't deny that he wouldn't mind impressing the sexy young woman and earning a spot in her bed for the evening, but he was wondering if his burst of machismo might be short-sighted. The closer he got to the source of the dimensional weakness, the more his skin crawled, and he wasn't the type to scare easily. He was a professional assassin, and he had never felt like this before.

“Okay, ah think it's time," Croc said, rotating his neck and shoulders. He didn't really need to stretch, but he wanted to impress the sexy Latina.

"Listen, we've done enough for one day," Anya said. She knew that Croc was posturing, but couldn't help but admire the view.

"No, it's all right. I'd rather get this over with." Croc put his hands out and watched as they disappeared in a scarcely visible ripple. It was like pushing his body into heavy water, and took more energy than one might think. Once through, he looked back at his temporary comrades. Staring through the dimensional membrane was similar to staring through slightly warped glass. He could see things just fine, but there was a surreal quality to it.

But what was really surreal was the mineshaft. It had gotten darker when he crossed over. It was so black that he wondered if light had EVER existed there. And it seemed to be pulling at him, coaxing him towards the entrance with black velvet tendrils and whispered promises. He stepped forward. It was the daftest thing he had ever done in his life and he knew it. But for a second, his feet did not belong to him. Then, another second and another step.

Croc was sweating, he was sure of that. An overwhelming curiosity was overtaking him. ‘What's down there?' he thought. ‘It couldn't possibly be that. . .'

Out in the real world, Anya and Johan were sitting on a boulder when a hand shot through a dimensional ripple and starting waving maniacally. It looked like Croc was trying to come through but something was pulling him back.

Johan lunged forward and grabbed Croc's hand and wrist, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling for all he was worth. Anya ran up and tried to help, though physical strength wasn't something she had an overabundance of. Slowly, a second hand punctured the membrane, so Anya grabbed that one instead. With a lurch, Croc came tumbling through, back into the "real" world.

Anya almost didn't recognize the assassin. His face was as white as a sheet, and his face was contorted with terror. While on all fours, he started to vomit, gripping the earth so tightly that his fingers began to bleed under the nails.

“What happened?!" Anya screamed, looking around for any sign that they weren't alone. The air around them was dead still.

Croc continued to vomit until there was nothing left. Then he collapsed onto his side.

That was when Anya noticed that his right eye had turned red. They needed to get him to the hospital. His eye was filled with blood.

A few hours later..

Tarloh, Talia, Shield and Nathaniel all arrived at the hospital within minutes of each other. They had been enjoyed a brief meal when they got a frantic phone call from Anya. Something had happened to Croc.

“What happened?" Tarloh said when Anya and Johan met them in the lobby.

"He . . . huh . . . he went through and then his hand came out and he was panicking and we helped pull him through but he got real sick and was throwing up "

Talia wrapped her arms around Anya's shaking shoulders. The girl was spooked.

“Is he ..."

“He's alive," Johan said, a Little more collected than his female counterpart.

"The doctor's said he's lost the use of one eye, but no one has any idea what could have caused it. Needless to say, I think Croc found something bad. Maybe what we were looking for."

A doctor came over and informed them that their friend was stable but asleep, and it might be best if they got a snack or some coffee.

The doctor wasn't sure if he'd wake up by the end of visiting hours.

The Strays gathered around a table in the cafeteria, drinking the strongest coffee the kitchen was able to muster. Johan and a slightly calmed Anya recounted the events of the day. They all felt relieved that Croc was going to be relatively okay.

"We need Nat and the gang back with that jewel," Talia was saying.