[Comprehensive British and American] Bats never lose their horses

Bruce was really shocked by Thomas' weird brain circuit.

"What are you thinking? Bruce and I and Carl don't have that relationship, we're... friends." Bruce struggles to define himself and his false identity, which feels weird, I have to say.

Tony couldn't hold back when he thought of the relationship between Clark Kent and Superman, and snorted heavily.

He couldn't believe Batman didn't know anything about it.

Thomas glanced at him suspiciously, but he was from another world after all, and he had no right to interfere in that Bruce's life.So the man just put away the painting silently, and then left a sentence: "Come with me."

Bruce and Tony looked at each other.

"Where are the Olivers?" he asked.

"Maybe he's stuck in bed?" Tony shrugged indifferently, "He told me before that the big bed in Wayne's house is very comfortable, but it's a pity that Bruce never likes to keep people at home." Of course, except for Clark Kent, he Grinding his teeth, he thought.

Bruce is skeptical.

But the most urgent thing now is to quickly find the whereabouts of the Stone of Origin, and to find the superman who came to this world.

After a busy morning in the Batcave, no one would have remembered that there was still lunch. If Oliver hadn't walked in to remind them, no one would have remembered that there was still dinner.The combined power of Stark and Wayne's two workaholics is not as simple as one plus one equals two, let alone Thomas Wayne who doesn't care about his body——

In this regard, Oliver, who had no choice but to provoke the important task of cooking, can only describe his mood at this time in one sentence:

Alfred, I understand you.

In fact, Oliver's craftsmanship is average, but compared to the other three idiots who don't know how to take care of themselves, he can at least cook food well.

"Bat," Oliver hesitated for a while during the meal, but still pretended to whisper to Bruce beside him unintentionally, "I think there should be someone else in this mansion besides us."

Bruce pauses with the sandwich he's about to stuff into his mouth.

Nonchalantly, he glanced at Thomas who was sitting in front of the bat computer and screened the news of aliens from all over the world, and moved his lips silently: Why do you say that?

"Last night I heard a strange movement," Oliver said, "very faint, it seemed to be coming from the southeast direction, if it weren't for my hearing which is far superior to ordinary people, I wouldn't be able to detect it. I thought it was a mouse, but when I asked today Thomas, he reacted weirdly."

He recalled Thomas's instantly gloomy face and his cold tone without comment, and he always felt that there must be something tricky in it.

"Don't mind your own business," Bruce reminded him. "This isn't our world."

Even though Thomas Wayne was his father, Bruce knew there were things he couldn't help.

After all, he was not the Bruce Wayne he was thinking of.

However, despite what Bruce said, Oliver's words still made him pay attention.

That night, when he returned to the bedroom, it was already two o'clock in the morning. Not long after he lay down, Bruce heard a faint abnormal sound, which seemed to be the sound of some large object hitting the door panel hard.

He opened his eyes suddenly, and although he was still mentally exhausted, the sleepiness was swept away.

In the darkness, the man was like a nimble black cat, turning over lightly from the bed. He quietly opened the door of the bedroom, watched quietly for a few seconds, and then slipped out sideways.

The corridor was quiet, and the pale moonlight shone on the carved stone brick floor, as if the sound just now was just a hallucination of Bruce, but he waited patiently for 2 minutes, and soon, the sound came again - as Oliver said Like the one, it comes from the southeast.

There was a click sound from behind, and Bruce turned around sharply, meeting the eyes of Oliver who came out to check the situation.

"Shh."

He raised a finger and signaled Oliver to go back to the room and wait for orders, and go to the front to check the situation by himself.

Oliver only hesitated for a second before nodding at him and obeying the arrangement. After all, Gotham is Batman's home ground. Although he didn't want to admit it, the Wayne Mansion was much bigger than his Quinn Mansion in Star City.

Bruce continued to walk in the direction of the sound, and finally came to a remote attic, which was very far from the main house. Alfred always used it as a storage room for sundries. Once, I complained that it was inconvenient to climb up and down with □□.But now, the roof of this attic has been removed, and the door leading to the top is tightly bound by finger-thick iron chains, and a large iron lock firmly seals off the possibility of anyone going up. .

Of course, it also prevented the escape of the man locked in the attic.

Crazy whispers, sharp laughter and the sound of knocking on wooden boards resounded in the silent night. No matter who was in such an atmosphere, they would unconsciously shudder and feel a chill behind their backs.But Batman is all too familiar with these—in Arkham Asylum, there are similar voices all the time.

So, his father, Thomas Wayne, hid a female psycho at home?

Listening to the crazy female voice, Bruce's heart couldn't help beating.

He was a little dizzy, and the sense of suffocation flooded him from all directions like a tide. The black-haired man clenched his fists tightly, showing deep, tired lines on his forehead.He stood on the spot, took a deep breath, then took out a piece of iron wire from his sleeve by magic, moved it back to the handle, stepped on it carefully, and inserted a piece of the wire into the keyhole.

With a click, the lock unlocked.

Bruce held his breath involuntarily.

As if knowing that someone was coming, the female voice in the attic also stopped abruptly.

In the next second, his eyes flickered, as if a beast rushed out of it, a crazy woman with disheveled hair and fancy costumes knocked him off his penis to the ground, she was riding on him with both hands He strangled Bruce's neck tightly, as if he wanted to strangle him to death here.

There was a distorted grin on the woman's oiled face, she bent down softly, staring at Bruce's speechless appearance in shock, and while increasing the strength in her hand, she asked in a soft and deadly tone:

"I thought that coward finally dared to come to see me - darling, whoareyou?"

Bruce's lips moved feebly.

He stared blankly at the familiar yet unfamiliar face close at hand, the once gentle smile was covered by heavy oil paint, and the eyes that always smiled in his memory were now filled with dense bloodshot eyes and strong luster. Manic meaning.

He had seen this expression on Harley Quinn's face countless times, but no matter what, it shouldn't appear on...

"Martha..."

"Oh, you know me?" Martha Wayne curled her lips, showing an expression of indifference, "Of course, he asked you to change into this suit, and must have told you everything. You are his The successor, handsome boy? Gotham's next madman king?"

As if she was amused by her own metaphor, the woman giggled. She laughed hard, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world, and even the hand on Bruce's neck couldn't help but relax a little. Divide the effort.

At this moment, Thomas Wayne who came in a hurry threw her off Bruce's body. The man grabbed her wrist roughly and dragged her back, but the woman was not to be outdone , The backhand was an elbow that hit Thomas hard on the chin, causing him to take a step back immediately and cough up a mouthful of blood.

"Go back to where you belong!" Thomas growled.

Even with his wife, he was merciless, because Thomas knew that if he softened his heart, the other party would bite his throat with his teeth without hesitation.Relying on his size and strength, he firmly suppressed the woman in two or three strokes, and then grabbed her hair, forcing her to return to the attic screaming——

"Enough!" Bruce, who was watching from the sidelines, finally couldn't take it anymore.He stepped forward quickly, grabbed Thomas' wrist firmly, and said word by word:

"Let go, let go, her."

Thomas stopped, and he turned his head coldly: "This is none of your business, I will settle the score with you later."

"I said, let her go," Bruce stared into his eyes, the phalanges of his fingers were slightly white from the force, "I have something to say to her, alone."

I don't know if Bruce's attitude was too fierce, or his appearance was very different from before, Thomas finally compromised.

"I'll take her back to the attic first," he said, "I'll give you 10 minutes."

He handcuffed Harley Quinn's hands, lifted the wooden boards in the attic, and then watched Bruce climb up with the woman on his back—Thomas thought that Martha would take the opportunity to hang this ignorant guy, but it was beyond his expectation Yes, she was surprisingly quiet, or rather... well-behaved.

But that's a ridiculous word for Harley Quinn, Thomas thought.

He suddenly wondered what this Batman would say to Martha.

However, since Bruce said that he wanted to talk alone, he would never allow a third person to listen in on the conversation. After Thomas left, he immediately smashed the bug that the man left in the corner, and turned around again. Turned on the dim electric lights above the attic.

Martha was sitting on the dressing table by the bed, looking at the mirror and playing with her bleached dry hair boredly. Although Thomas was merciless when he attacked and forbade her to relieve the outside world in any way, he never cared about food, clothing and housing. Treating her harshly, the entire attic was arranged exactly the same as the master bedroom of the original mansion, and Bruce even saw Martha's favorite woolen fabric not far away.

He stood there, looked at his mother's back and opened his mouth in vain, but suddenly he didn't know what to say.

It was Martha who spoke first: "Just find a place to sit, anyway, there is no tea here."

She raised her head and looked at Batman dressed in pitch black standing behind her through the mirror and the dim light. Her gaze gradually became hollow and blurred, as if she had seen something inexplicable, but the corners of her mouth were faintly faint. It rose a few degrees, and his expression looked very contradictory.

"Sure enough," she said in a firm tone, "This poor clothing is inherited from the Wayne family. You are exactly the same as Thomas."

After a pause, she added: "But I still have to say, you are much more handsome than him."

Bruce's jaw line is tense, and his eyes are sad, but with a kind of secret joy.

"Mam." Facing Martha's back, he softly called out the syllable that had not been uttered for decades.

"I'm not your mother." Martha corrected him calmly.The crazy look just now was like a hallucination, but at this moment she looked calm and terrifying, and every word she uttered was like a knife cutting on Bruce's heart.

"My son is long dead," she said.

Bruce lowered his eyes and whispered, "I know."

"Sorry, I just... miss you all so much."

But he didn't notice that in the mirror, after seeing his expression like this, Martha's little finger wrapped around the blond hair twitched nervously.

The woman looked away, focused on the slowly crawling spider in the corner, and asked in the gentle tone that Bruce was most familiar with: "So, why did you come here?"

"I'm looking for something," Bruce replied, "and someone else. Maybe he can make the world a better place."

"It sounds like you trust him."

"I never trust anyone," Bruce said lightly, "but when necessary, I can trust him with my fate."

Hearing this, Martha finally turned around from her chair and looked at him.

Bruce also looked at her, and he now has a stomach full of words to ask: "So, how on earth did you...become like this? Is it because of Bruce Wayne's death?"

"No," said Martha lightly, "just because of a special day."

Bruce's heart seemed to be thrown into the ice cave all at once.

The clown also said this to him.

"You've grown up," Martha looked up at him with a hazy expression, seeming to regard him as her own child again, "you're still rebellious. Don't be like your father, he is the most failed man in the world, He can't save you, he can't save me, he can't save Gotham, and he can't save himself..."

Bruce approached slowly, he took off his hood, and let Martha hold his cheeks with both hands in a daze, and carefully looked at him as if holding some rare treasure.

"Hey, mam," he half-kneeled on the ground looking up at the woman sitting on the chair, gently stretched out his hand, and wiped away the tears rolling down that oil-painted face, "Look at me, everything will be fine, I swear."

He hugged Martha tightly in his arms, and patted her on the back lightly, until Martha closed her eyes in his arms from crying and exhaustion, then Bruce straightened up his already stiff body, and slowly carried her on his back , walk down the attic.

Thomas, who was waiting outside, looked at him and growled, "I said don't challenge my bottom line, put her back quickly—"

"Shh," Bruce said in a low voice, "You're too loud and you're going to disturb her."

Thomas closed his mouth tightly, looking at his sleeping wife lying on his shoulders, tears had already blurred the oil paint on Martha's face, and she looked extremely embarrassed, but the way she hugged Bruce looked like A baby sleeping soundly in the cradle, with stretched brows and eyes, serene and peaceful.

He hadn't seen Martha show such an expression for more than ten years.

"What... have you told her?" He asked hesitantly, but lowered his voice.

"Some things in our world." Bruce didn't intend to say too much to Thomas. The man's rough behavior towards Martha just now made him angry. Even if there is a good reason, this is a proper domestic violence!

"Take her back to her bedroom first," he said. "I promise you, the old Martha Wayne will be back."

Thomas followed him silently.

"who are you?"

After Bruce settled Martha and quietly closed the door, he couldn't bear the doubts in his heart anymore, and asked with a frown.

"I've tried for more than ten years, but she never listened to me properly..."

"Maybe it's because you never know a woman's heart." Bruce said bluntly.

After seeing Thomas's widened eyes, he snorted coldly and said confidently: "This is what Bruce told me. You have always been very unpopular with women, and you are completely different from him. He kills both men and women, from the age of three to the age of three." At the age of 80, whether it is a girl of seventeen or eighteen, a mother married to a wife, or even the national idol Superman, the whole Gotham loves him to death."

he said without shame.

Thomas also tried to defend: "I'm because—"

"Don't quibble, this is a gap in emotional intelligence, Bruce Wayne has always respected women," Bruce interrupted him, raising his eyebrows, "The basic character of a gentleman, huh? It seems that your son is better than you in this regard .”

"..." Thomas' face darkened.

The author has something to say: at first glance, this is the difference between being a mother and being a father.

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Thanks to the little angel who threw the mine: Jinghong 1;

感谢灌溉营养液的小天使：zeze20瓶；shirley10瓶；苏越9瓶；洛色靡、我爱杯面5瓶；Dahlia、孟归寻1瓶；

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!