After spending the better part of a few hours searching the city for the missing loons that escaped from Arkham, Thomas eventually gave up and returned to the cave. As the motorcycle came into the cave and parked at the edge of the platform, Falcone was already in there waiting for him. He was sitting at the computers and working on a few things.

     "What are you doing down here?" Thomas demanded as he stepped off the bike.

     "Just listening in on the police channels," Falcone replied, "I used to do it as a kid and the habit never wore off. There no sign of the escape patients, or you wife."

     "I couldn't find them either," Thomas said as her removed his and sat down. "I can't believe what I saw out there. Martha actually tried to stab me! Another of the patients actually pulled a gun!"

     "And what did you do?" Falcone asked.

     "I tried my best to disarm and subdue them." Thomas answered.

     "Really?" Falcone said, as he stopped working at the computer and swiveled around in his chair to face Thomas. "How'd that work out for ya?"

     "And what was I supposed to do?" Thomas asked him.

     Falcone responded by pulling out a gun from his coat. A nice silver piece that looked like it belonged on a mantle rather than in someone's hand. "You take one of these and you put that no good bastard into the damn ground! That's what you do!"

     "That's not legal," Thomas said, "I don't kill."

     "And what's the alternative?" Falcone asked, "Just lock them all back up in Arkham, until the next one breaks out and starts killing innocent people all over again?"

     "We can't take the law into our own hands!" Thomas protested.

     "I hate to break it to you, Thomas, but that ship sailed out a long time ago!" Falcone reminded him, "I'm just asking you to take this a little bit further, or would you prefer to sit back and wait to see whose kid takes the next stray bullet."

     This time Thomas leaped out of his chair and slapped the gun clean out of Falcone's hands before grabbing his collar and bringing them face to face.

     "I can't cross that line," Thomas told him, "Once I do that, there's no going back."

     "Suit yourself," Falcone said, even snickering a bit. "But I don't have to follow your stupid rules, as long as I honor the agreement we made."

     "You're right," Thomas conceded, as he tossed Falcone back into his chair, "But I also told you not to piss me off too."

     "I know, I know." Falcone said, "But if you're not going to put these loons down, how are you going to fight back?"

     "I've been talking to a man who runs a tech company," Thomas said, "He's used to work for me in the Wayne Tech division before venturing out on his own. We're meeting for lunch to discuss business. I believe with his help, we'll be able to construct some state of the art, non-lethal weapons to fight back with."

     "Fine," Falcone said, as he was giving up. "Do it your way, but don't come crying to me when it all goes to hell in a hand basket."

     "Don't worry, I won't." Thomas said, as he walked away to get out of his massive outfit.

     Falcone went back to the floor to observe the tables again, as the Casino never closed. The gangster even booked himself a permanent room so he'd never have to leave if he didn't want to. Thomas on the other hand took the elevator back up to the manor, but skipped his office and rode it right to the top floor which was his private residence. He converted the roof to be his private residence so that he wouldn't have to interact with any of the guests if he didn't want to. With an entire floor to himself, he would have all the space a single man would require. Thomas poured himself a decent drink and slowly sipped it while the ache in his shoulder reminded him of the awful fight he had earlier that night. He tried to lay down and sleep, but like every other night it was next to impossible to find.

     That's when he heard it, a rustling sound that came from the other side of the massive bedroom. Thomas hopped out of bed, and looked around because he was aware that no one else had access to his private quarters except Falcone and he knew better to not even try without asking first.

     "Who's out there?" He called out.

     "How dare you," a voice softly whispered.

     "Excuse me?" Thomas called out again.

     "This was our home," she whispered back, "And look what you've done to it!"

     "Martha," Thomas asked, hoping it was her. "Where are you?"

     "I thought I was home," she answered, as her white face slowly emerged from the darkness. "But this is not the Wayne Manor I knew and lived in with my son."

     "Of course it isn't," Thomas said, as he slowly walked closer. "I guess you don't like the changes I made around here. You're not the only one; Alfred resigned in protest and flew back to England."

     "Smart man," Martha said as she walked closer, "What did you do to our son's room?"

     "Nothing," Thomas answered, "It's still there but just locked off so no one can disturb it."

     "Why did you desecrate our home!!!" Martha roared at him.

     "What was I supposed to do?" Thomas asked her, "Find a new wife, make new kids? That's not possible, because you two are irreplaceable. I don't think I could try that again."

     "You will pay for what you did!" Martha hissed as she pulled another knife out of her purple jacket. She seemed very intent to harm her husband, and he knew it.

     "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Thomas said.

     "What are you going to do about it?" Martha asked, "Dress as a bat and beat me up?"

     "Not exactly," Thomas said. Without any warning or hesitation, he pulled out Falcone's silver plated, shiny pistol and fired it at his wife. The bullet entered the shoulder that Martha was using to hold the knife, which she dropped as she fell to the ground.

    "I'm sorry, hun," Thomas said, as he walked over and kicked the knife away. "But I'm afraid you brought a knife to a gunfight."

     Less than a minute after the shot was fired, Falcone knew where it had come from and took the elevator up to the room to check on Thomas. He wandered over to see the woman lying on the floor and what state she was in.

     "Call the cops and an ambulance." Thomas ordered.

     "Already done," Falcone replied.

     "Then take this and keep it focused on her," Thomas said, "I'm going to keep her stable while we wait for them to get here."

     Falcone took his gun back and kept it fixed on Martha while Thomas started to treat her wound and stop the bleeding.

     "What is that criminal doing in my house?" Martha asked.

     "I work here, Lady." Falcone said, "And you're lucky he shot you, because I would have put it in your chest instead of winging ya."

     "You're scum," Martha said, wishing she was close enough to spit on him.

     "Sticks and stones, sweetheart." Falcone said, winking at her. "Give my regards to the boys back at Arkham."

     She pretty much ignored him until the police and medics arrived to take her away.