Chapter Text
[ BATMAN ]
“Drop me by the entrance,” Batman said. He waited till Superman landed and set him down before he fished out a small detector from the belt. “This is a kryptonite sensor. It’ll beep if the ring is nearby.”
Superman nodded and accepted the sensor before looking at him.
“Now go find the other Superman.”
Batman could see the hesitance in his posture, probably second-guessing the whole plan even though he was the one who had suggested this approach in the first place—an actual decent plan, may he add.
Finally, Superman seemed to conclude his inner battle and gave Batman a curt nod. “I will see you soon,” he said before he set off.
Alone again. A chill ran up Batman’s spine as he turned to face the Fortress, which had little to do with the cold air. The Batsuit was well-insulated.
Batman approached the door, and it parted for him. It had clearly been programmed to allow him inside, but he doubted he’d be able to get out of it again without Superman.
There were no greetings from Jor-El. The Fortress of Solitude lived up to its name with how quiet the chilly hallways were. Batman’s steps clanged out loudly against the floor.
With no choice left, he headed to the bedroom he had spent most of his short stay here in. Every voice in his head told him to turn back. Walk away. He stopped in front of the door. He did not dare breathe too deeply when he grabbed the door handle and pulled it down, entering the room.
It looked more lived in than the Fortress he was used to back home. He hadn’t noticed that the first time around, being too occupied with the other Superman. The man had been excited. Batman had almost found it endearing. At least till the excitement became painful.
The remnants of his suit were spread across the floor, ripped to pieces with the excitement in which this world’s Superman must have pulled them off the other Bruce. The armor plating and kevlar had done nothing against a Kryptonian’s strength. The same strength Batman knew that his Superman possessed.
The other man lay in the bed with all its soft pillows and satin quilts. It was a cruel but beautiful view.
His—Bruce's—eyes were circled by dark, making his face look sunken and hollow. He was pale, his lips seeming almost bluish. When Batman stepped closer, he noticed the bandages wrapped around the other man’s throat. The air was so still, and he wondered if the other man was dead. He reached out to tug the quilt away. Bruce’s hands were shackled to the bedposts by chains running between the quilts and pillows. Batman settled the quilt at Bruce’s chest, then reached to grab his wrist, checking his pulse with the sensors in the gloves.
As he did so, the other man’s eyes shot open and looked at him in panic.
“It’s okay,” Batman said, letting go to take Bruce’s hand instead. “We will help you.”
Bruce didn’t respond, just squeezed Batman’s hand tightly before letting go. He followed Batman with his eyes as Batman grabbed one of the chains close to where it was fastened to the bed. He took the Batlaser out of his utility belt and began cutting through the titanium chain-link. He got both of them cut and pulled them through the cuffs.
Batman could not find the words as he stared at Bruce Wayne trying to sign » I can’t speak « with numb hands, of which one missed a middle finger.
[ CLARK ]
Kal was not hard to find. Besides himself, Batman, and the Bruce of this world, Kal seemed to be the only other thing alive in the Fortress—none of the animals that Clark loved collecting and taking care of. Could this really be Superman?
He used his hearing to position the other Kryptonian, narrowing down his location to a computer room on the far side of the Fortress. Clark touched ground at the northern entrance and stepped forward. The doors parted for him without issue, the castle welcoming home Kal-El, no matter what world he came from. He was cautious, listening out for the moment Kal would realize he had visitors. He must have, no matter how sneaky Batman was. He heard his partner speaking to the other Bruce, telling him that he was safe. Batman had found him, then. That was good. He was worried about the lack of response, but he couldn’t stop to investigate that now. Batman could handle it.
The door to the computer room opened automatically when Clark got close, and he took in the sight of his counterpart. For all the ways they looked alike, their differences in clothing were startling. The white, black, and red looked foreign and wrong on the Kryptonian. Sterile and soulless. So far the Fortress looked like a hospital, but seeing his counterpart and the lack of warmth in his gaze made Clark decide it was more like a morgue.
Kal spun around quickly, as if he only heard Clark now. The high cheekbones were more pronounced. His hair looked slightly unordered. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he had been lacking sleep.
“What is this?” Kal demanded, rage flaring in his eyes as they locked on Clark, though his voice stayed perfectly level. “Are you from his world? He’s not here. He disappeared when I got mine back.”
Mine.
Clark was no stranger to using possessive language about Bruce. Bruce was his partner. His friend. His Bat. It was such an accepted way for Clark to show fondness.
But that one word from Kal’s lips was enough to evoke disgust. It was not the playful language of lovers but a man announcing his ownership of an object.
“I’m here for the other one,” Clark said as he approached. Kal’s gaze steeled, and he stood up, the chair tumbling over.
“You have your own.”
Clark didn’t hesitate. “I want yours, too.”
“Never,” Kal hissed and rushed him. Clark raised his hands, ready for the onslaught, but the sudden beeping of the Kryptonite detector distracted him, and Kal hit him full-force, sending them both crashing into the wall. He had to find the source. And quick.
Clark pushed him away and threw a punch right in his face. It sent Kal flying, and the kryptonite detector slowed the beeping.
It was Kal, Clark quickly realized.
The kryptonite readings came directly from Kal.
Kal rolled over on his hands and knees and raised back up from the floor. Too slowly. He was a Kryptonian. There was no way a single punch should have affected him at all.
Clark used his x-ray vision, expecting to find the ring hidden away in a pocket somewhere, though he did not understand why Kal would want that.
The revelation was terrifying.
The first step had Kal unsure on his legs, but then he gained his footing and charged Clark again. The detector’s beeping grew more frantic.
He reached his hand out and grabbed Kal by the throat before he could make contact, squeezing tight to hold him in place. With the syringe in the other hand, he quickly stabbed it into Kal’s side and injected the contents.
Kal struggled. Then went still. Subdued.
Clark had been prepared to fight, matched up against another Kryptonian, with only hope and determination in his arsenal if he wished to win this fight of equal physical prowess.
But it would be pitiful to call this a 'fight.'
He picked Kal up and set off to the entry hall to wait for his partner. The sound of Bruce’s steady heartbeat helped calm him a bit.
There was no danger here anymore.
[ BATMAN ]
Batman had found Bruce some clothes in the bedroom and helped him get dressed before wrapping the heavy cape around him to shield him a bit from the cold. With one of Bruce’s arms thrown over his shoulder to support him, Batman led him out of the room and down the hallway towards the entrance hall. He had heard some faint sounds of fighting, but it had ended quickly, and he didn’t yet know if that was a good sign or not. Bruce didn’t seem to have noticed anything.
The door opened automatically to grant them access to the big, open room, and Batman was pleased with the sight that met him. Superman was there—unharmed. So was Kal—not unharmed.
Bruce’s eyes were fixed firmly on the ground as they approached the Kryptonians.
“Where do you think you’re taking him?!” Kal hissed, even as Superman forced him down to his knees.
Bruce froze in place, all muscles pulled taut.
“To our world, where he will get help,” Superman said. “And you.”
Superman turned his gaze to Batman. Then to Bruce, before quickly shifting back to Batman, clearly struggling to keep his focus.
"There are Kryptonite shards in his brain,” Superman revealed. “He will need surgery.”
"W-ha-t—" Bruce rasped out, sounding like he was choking on glass, then coughed violently, spilling blood from his lips.
Batman pulled him more tightly against himself, and with deft fingers, he quickly fished a syringe out of the belt. He pushed the syringe into Bruce’s thigh and injected him with the sedatives before he could cause more damage to his throat. The muscle relaxant made him a bit unsure on his legs, and Batman carefully picked him up in his arms. “Get him to the portal,” he said to Superman. “Then you can come back for us.” He didn’t want the other Superman to even look at Bruce.
Superman nodded. “We will talk about everything when we’re back,” he said and hoisted the other Kryptonian over his shoulder despite his struggles. “We’ll get you medical care,” Superman said to him coldly, then set off towards the portal.
Batman sat down on the floor with Bruce on his lap. Bruce’s eyes were unfocused as he looked up at him. He raised his hand towards Batman’s face.
Batman grabbed his hand and held it, giving it a small squeeze. Bruce’s eyes went glossy before he quickly closed them. Batman put his free hand at the back of Bruce’s head and pulled him closer against himself, letting Bruce rest his head against his chest.
They stayed like that till Superman returned.
After everything was done, Kal-El from Earth-50 was placed in a holding cell with a red sun lamp, casting the room in an eerie dim glow.
The other Bruce was taken to the medical wing, away from anybody else’s eyes. After a quick examination it was clear that a few of his wounds required surgical attention.
Batman looked through the health reports, having a pretty good idea what the messy wound on the man’s throat was, but he felt truly sick when he looked at the brain scans of the other Superman.
“That likely cut his life span in half,” he said to Clark. “You’ve said before that Kryptonite does not affect your behavior, but I believe that would count as brain damage.”
"Undoubtedly," Clark said. “Not right away. But over time, it would likely cause similar effects to a stroke or dementia." He looked at Batman. “I will get regular scans for that.”
Batman was happy Clark volunteered it. “Yes, I added that to the checklist." He pulled out the other card and showed it to Clark. “His throat was cut, but the vocal cord is not damaged. It just needs a few weeks to heal properly. They are both under. When he wakes up we will talk. For now you should go rest.” He knew this had taken a lot out of Clark even if he didn’t show it.
Clark nodded. “Did you find the ring?”
“Yes.”
“Show it to me,” Clark said. “Please?”
Batman measured him with a stern gaze. “The kryptonite ring?” He asked, giving Clark the last chance to back out. Of course he wouldn’t.
Clark nodded.
Batman didn’t reach for the usual ring compartment and instead took out a plastic bag from one of the pouches. There was a ring. And a finger. It was deep purple and blackened at the end, with the melted flesh getting fused to the gold band. He hid it away just as quickly as he had shown it. “I need to clean it,” he said.
Clark covered his mouth and shook his head. “Can brain damage alone really do this, Bruce?” he asked. “Or is there just something broken inside of me?”
“He’s not you,” Batman said sternly. “But yes, brain injuries can cause personality changes. I don’t know how he was before the kryptonite got lodged in his brain, but it’s likely that it wasn’t entirely like this.”
“…When will they wake up?” Clark asked.
“You can go wait by his bedside. It shouldn’t be long.” Aside from the horrors of the situation, Batman was rather delighted seeing the way Clark was interacting with his other self. “I will call agent A about preparing a room and medical necessities at home.”
Clark nodded. “Yes, okay,” he said and left the room, heading to the medical wing.
