Years had passed, and the Wayne family had taken the child in as their own. Thomas had the spacecraft moved to the natural caves under the house. And eventually, only he and Alfred knew its true origins and where Bruce truly came from. Martha seemed to have grown fond of the kid as well. She kept calling him Bruce, but Thomas feared that deep down, she knew the truth. And he feared it was eating her from the inside. Sometimes when he came into the house, the halls were filled with maniacal laughter that quickly faded once he had entered.
The first year or so after the incident, Thomas spent lots of time in the caves, studying the ship, trying to find out where his new son had come from. He didn't make much headway in deciphering the strange language scribbled all over the ship. It didn't match any known language, dialect or form of writing known to man. Eventually, he found a recording in English. A recording of a man, talking about the destruction of a planet called Krypton, and his son, Kal-El, being the only survivor. The recording begged the person who found it, to take good care of the boy. It also said Kal-El would be enabled access to the ship, and all of its data, once he reached a suitable age. After this, Thomas decided to leave the ship alone, at least until Bruce was old enough to understand what had happened. He locked the door to the cave and handed the only key over to Alfred.
The years passed by, and Bruce grew into a healthy young boy. As a doctor however, Thomas started to notice things out of the ordinary. The boy never got sick, and was extremely agile and strong for his age. He had tried to do a blood work, but the needle had bent of his skin. It was clear to Thomas that this boy would be capable of great things. He kept loving the boy as his own, however. Through the years he educated the boy in wisdom and morals, making sure that he would be ready for whatever came his way. Thomas and Alfred did everything to make young master Bruce into a respectful young man, and Thomas was amazed about the intelligence this young boy showed.
Martha on the other hand seemed a little more distant with every passing day. It was as if she subconsciously knew that he wasn't the Bruce she had birthed, and the mother instincts that had taken over at first were now slowly subsiding. As the boy grew older, she spent more and more time alone, sitting in her room, and working on chemistry tests, or creating small devices that never seemed to work. Even though Bruce went in there from time to time to help her, she never seemed to completely open up to him. But she kept smiling. She was always smiling, through it all.
One night however, Martha came to Thomas, saying it would be a good idea for the whole family to head out to the theater. Glad to see his wife open up again, Thomas embraced the idea. The evening was great. It was way too long since they had spent time as a family.
When they walked out of the theater, late at night, Martha suggest them to take a shortcut through an alleyway. "Are you sure about this dear?" Thomas asked, eyeing the darkness with suspicion.
"Please Thomas." She answered with a smile. "What could possibly go wrong?"
They weren't that far into the alleyway when they heard a rough voice coming from the shadows. "Stick'em up. I'll have your money and all your other valuables."
As Thomas' eyes adjusted to the light he saw a man, pointing a gun at them, stepping out of the shadows. "Bruce, Martha. Get behind me." He said, spreading his arms to hold them back. He was shocked, however, to see Martha taking a step forward, instead of cowering behind him. She grabbed in her purse.
"Hey lady." The robber waved his gun at Martha. "I would stay back if I were you."
"Why?" Martha answered with an extremely calm voice. "You wanted my valuables right?" she continued, while opening her purse. "Just take what you want from inside."
The man looked suspiciously at Martha, then to Thomas, and back to Martha. He kept the gun pointed on Martha as he glanced into the purse. To his surprise, a green cloud of gas puffed into his face from inside the purse. He shook his head. "What... What is thihihihiis Hahaha."
Even before he could finish his sentence, Thomas watched in horror as the man started laughing uncontrollably. Before the robber fell to the ground, Thomas saw his own wife, slowly reaching over and grabbing the gun from the mans hand. At that point she joined the man in his laughter, but hers was somehow even less controlled, and that made it all the more scary. Then while she was laughing, she put the gun against the mans head and pulled the trigger, so only her own laughing remained in the alley. "Stay behind me Bruce." Thomas said trying to block the boys view from this horror.
"Why would you call him that?" Martha asked pointing the gun at Thomas, her face contorted in a strange grin.
"Because it is his name." Thomas answered slowly, raising his hands in the air.
"No it isn't." Martha said, the unnerving smile still on her face.
"Mom? Dad? What's happening?" Young Bruce said peeking out from behind his father's back.
"Don't call me that." Martha screamed pointing the gun towards Bruce.
Thomas saw this as his chance and lunged forward, throwing himself on the gun. But he was too slow. The gun went off, and Thomas slumped to the ground.
"Dad!" Bruce yelled as he ran over and kneeled besides his father. "Dad!" He started shaking his fathers shoulder. "Mom, what did you do?"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Martha yelled as she fired two shots in Bruce's direction. "You are not my son!" Then she stumbled back as the bullets ricocheted of Bruce's head and one grazed her face, leaving a wound on her left cheek.
Bruce turned around, his tear filled eyes glowing red.
Martha stumbled back further, shooting two more bullets in his face before the gun was empty. When these sparked of his body as well, her smile finally disappeared. "What are you?" She could just in time step aside so the glowing red beams coming from Bruce's eyes didn't hit her straight in the face. But not fast enough to completely avoid them. The beam made a long wound on her right cheek before she fell to the ground, bumped her head, and lost consciousness.
Bruce was left alone now, crying over his fathers body until the police arrived. When they arrived, Bruce didn't speak. Everything that followed felt like fast forwarded memories. The last thing he remembered was the medics saying something about permanent damage to his mothers face, before they took her away. He just sat quietly in the police car, and after that, the station, absorbing the shock of what happened until Alfred came to pick him up.