Thomas descended back into the cave and dressed up in his new armor. He had never been more dedicated to go back out, aware of what was now out there and how dangerous it was for him and the escaped patients. The car was still being built by the mechanic, so Thomas took a jet-black motorcycle out of the cave and sped off towards Gotham. It took him less than a half hour to get into town, and even less to ride downtown. As he was speeding into town after departing the makeshift cave, all Thomas could think about was what happened to Martha. He could remember her sitting there in the middle of the alley, with their dead son lying on her lap. It was an image he managed to get out of his head for a while but it returned as he was riding towards that part of town. He knew Martha would be there, the only question was would anyone from the breakout going to be there with her?
Thomas slowly crawled down the staircase from the building's roof and into the alley that was forever etched into his brain. The same alley where his son died, where he lost Bruce. Thomas was standing on the last ledge above the alley when he first spotted her. A lone woman standing in the exact spot where Bruce was slain. She was on her knees, and Thomas could hear her crying from the ledge. When he jumped down from the last platform onto the ground, the sound of his feet hitting the ground startled her. She jumped up for a moment but didn't turn. She kept her composure and remained sitting on the ground.
"I don't know who you are," she started, "but I am mourning. Take your leave or face my wrath."
"Martha," he called out to her. "It's me."
Upon hearing his voice, the woman's head lifted up as she recognized his voice.
"Thomas?" she called out.
She turned to face him, and they were both shocked by the person that was looking back at each other. Martha's face was painted white, and she had cut her face to extend her lips, making it look like she had a very big grin. Her hair was dyed green and she was wearing a purple suit. Thomas was also very different as the cowl, the black armor and the symbol of a bat in the middle of his chest were all a dead giveaway. He was the vigilante the press was calling the Batman.
"You've changed," She told him, "A hero to save other kids from suffering the same fate that befell our little Bruce?"
"Maybe," Thomas said as he walked closer, "But no amount of kids I save could ever make up for the one I failed to defend. I'm so sorry, Martha."
"I don't care how sorry you are!" she roared at him, "I want my son back!"
She pulled a knife and tried to ram it into Thomas' stomach. He grabbed her by the wrist, and stopped her before she could stab him, and then flipped her onto her back before tossing the knife away in disgust.
"I'd do anything to take it all back," Thomas told her, "But I can't."
"That's your opinion," a voice called out.
Thomas turned to face the man who spoke the words and sneered at him.
"Doctor Hugo Strange, I presume?" he called out.
"Correct," the doctor replied, as he emerged from the shadows. "And I could write a whole book about how you are grieving the loss of your son, Doctor Wayne. This bat projection is not healthy."
"Neither is the beating I'm about to give you." Thomas retorted.
"Is that so?" Doctor Strange replied, "My friends might have some objections to that course of action."
"You mean your other patients?" Thomas corrected him.
"Semantics," Strange relied with a grin. "Take care of him, but I want him alive."
Thomas watched as other patients, some very large, emerged from the darkness and attacked the Batman with ferocity. Thomas used their weight to fend off their advances and toss them aside, just long enough to kick the other away and turn back to the previous opponent. The other thug pulled a gun, but Thomas pulled a bat shaped projectile and threw it at him. As it knocked the gun out of his hands, the doctor looked at it and loudly sighed.
"That's borderline obsessive," he observed, "Someone has bats on the mind."
"That's my issue, and I'm dealing with it." Thomas said, as he tossed another thug against the wall with authority. "You're coming with me. I'm taking you all back to Arkham."
"Is that so?" Doctor Strange repeated as he was slightly amused. "I have a feeling she doesn't want to go back."
Thomas spun around just as Martha came at him with a new knife, slicing at air as she again tried to cut up her husband.
"This isn't funny anymore, Martha." Thomas told her as he backed away.
"Oh I disagree," Martha replied as her grin looked enormous, "The whole world is just one big sick joke. You can't see the punchline, but you will soon."
"Never," Thomas spat back at her, "You're fucking nuts."
"Maybe," Martha said, as she let out a psychotic laugh, "but when it's all said and done, I'll have the last laugh."
Without warning, she tossed a smoke bomb at the ground and in the chaos she and her cohorts all escaped, including Doctor Strange. Thomas stood there as the smoke faded away and clinched his fists in frustration. Bringing Martha and her fellow escapees in was going to be a lot more difficult to accomplish. She had truly flipped her and finally lost every marble she left. As he stood there, someone else came running down the alley.
"Freeze!" Jim Gordon called out, gun raised. "Don't move!"
Thomas turned around and faced Gordon, allowing him to see the Batman for the very first time. Gordon looked at him with a face of absolute shock, and that was the break Thomas needed as he used a grappling hook to rise to the roof of the building and fly away. Gordon watched as the bat rose to the roof, and Harvey saw it too just as he caught up.
"Is that what I think it is?" Harvey asked, wheezing for breath.
"Yup, that was the Batman." Gordon replied, "He's a big bastard too."
"Is he on our side?" Harvey asked.
"I sure hope so," Gordon answered, "Cause we could use some more friends."