Disclaimer: I don't own Justice League or any of its characters. Really, I don't.


...


Clark took to the sky, leaving behind the crystalline structure hidden among the mesmerizing whiteness of the snow in the middle of the Arctic.

It was beautiful. Massive and majestic. Glittering. It was an exact replica of his own Fortress of Solitude back home- except it wasn't. Not really. There was something about the place that made it seem, feel, different. Empty and desolate. Colder somehow.

And there was no sign of Bruce there. No sign he had been there at all.

He defeated this world's Superman, though it hadn't been easy. It never was when he confronted someone as strong and powerful as him. It was clear from the beginning Superman wasn't going to tell him where was Bruce, so he didn't bother asking.

He thought he was protecting him, on his own delirious, twisted way, so Clark was going to have to find him on his own.

His double was now locked up in a room on the Fortress, but Clark had no doubt he would be out of there as soon as he regained conscience. He did his best to program the Fortress to keep him there, but well. He could understand the difficulty of maintaining not only a Kryptonian but one that looked exactly like him imprisoned. Besides, it was his Fortress, not Clark's.

Clark shook his head. It didn't matter. He just needed to find Bruce and then they would take care of Superman together if they had to. Or Bruce would, with the Kryptonite ring he was sure the other man was carrying in his utility belt.

It took him a few minutes of flying to catch the first glimpse of Gotham's dark and cloudy sky. It was yet another exact replica, this time of Bruce's beloved city.

Only a few seconds later the imposing towers of Wayne Manor materialized on the horizon. Clark halted to a stop in midair before choosing to descend slowly to land on one of the balconies on the second floor rather than go directly to the cave. He didn't want to take the risk of some of Batman's countermeasures in the Batcave being still in place.

He forced the large windows open easily and flew in. Hovering in the middle of the room, Clark took a moment to scan the Manor with his x-ray vision, confirming his initial suspicion. The Manor was empty, the furniture in most rooms covered with white sheets to keep the dust away.

Clark closed his eyes, taking a moment to remind himself this wasn't their world and this wasn't really Bruce's home. It didn't help much, just like it hadn't when he was faced with the painful revelation of Bruce's death. The death of this world's Bruce.

The Kryptonian flew downstairs to the grandfather clock that would allow him access to the cave, focusing on finding Bruce which was the important thing right now.

The clock swung open silently and he descended into the cave.

The first thing that caught Clark's attention was the empty chair before the abandoned, dark bank of monitors. The Batcomputer, as Dick named it, and how Clark called it too, just to see the tiny flicker of annoyance in Bruce's expression every time. He tried to recall if there had been a time where every screen was turned off and was unable to. There was always at least one switched on with something or another running, even if Bruce wasn't anywhere near it.

He pulled his attention away to look around the cave, his gaze almost immediately drawn to the glass case displaying the Batsuit. He moved toward it without thinking.

Clark's eyes took in the dark suit and empty cowl behind the glass as he hovered before it. At first sight, it was nothing more than a replica of Bruce's suit, but a closer look revealed some small differences. A couple of clasps placed in parts where Bruce's suit didn't have them and some additional modifications to increase the suit's protection. Almost without thinking he took notice of every difference he saw, intending of mentioning them to Bruce when they went back home. Not if, when.

Eyes fixed in the suit, he reached out to touch the cold, flat surface. His fingers stopped mere millimeters from touching the case when he heard it: the clear, steady rhythm of a heartbeat, here in the cave.

It wasn't just any heartbeat. It was Bruce's. It had been there the whole time just waiting to be heard. With his own heart pounding against his chest, Clark took off, following the sound like a beacon.

He wasn't able to differentiate between every heartbeat in the world. There were too many and the difference between each was so slim that it was impossible, but he had learned to recognize the heartbeat of a handful of people. His Ma and Pa, Lois, Perry, Jimmy. The nice old lady that lived a few doors down in his apartment building that chatted him up amicably every time he saw him. And even Lex Luthor, after so many times needing to locate the business man quickly. Of course, there were also the founders of the League, Bruce among them.

Listening for Bruce's heartbeat after a battle or news of trouble in Gotham had somewhere along the way become a habit for him. Something he did without a conscious thought anymore. He was sure Bruce would be annoyed if he knew, but then again, very little went past the Bat, so it was likely he already knew and simply let it slide.

Clark flew into a part of the cave he had never seen before, the darkness swallowing him up as he moved far enough from the main area, leaving any light behind. It was a good thing he could see in the dark, he thought as he moved further ahead. He came to a stop in front of a lead-lined door set in the rock wall.

The lock of the door was melted down -probably with a shot of heat vision- and the sight making Clark clench his jaw. It made perfect sense, he thought coldly, to get rid of a lock Batman could easily pick, even without his tools, and leave him trapped.

He pulled the door open with more force than was needed, blinking at the sudden brightness that attacked his eyes. The electrical system of the cave reached this room too, apparently.

Clark stood at the threshold, sharp eyes immediately drawn to the large four-poster bed placed almost in the middle of the room. The bed where Bruce was lying, unconscious, his breath slow and steady.

An unconscious Bruce wearing nothing but his underwear, arms and legs tied to the bedposts and leaving him in a very vulnerable position. Clark flew slowly into the room, hands balled into fists at his sides.

"... Made you believe he was another super-powered God among the rest. Powerful. Invincible. At least until the rush of the battle was over and you saw the wounds and broken bones. The blood."

Clark stopped short of reaching the bed, blue eyes wandering over Bruce's damaged body. He took in the endless pattern of purple and yellow bruises that always adorned the other man's body, every bruise in different stages of healing, but that would be replaced by new ones in no time.

Then there was the scarred, puckered skin that showed where the flesh was stitched back together; some barely a few inches long and others as big as the one that when from his elbow to the palm of his hand. X-ray vision showed him the metallic plates and pins under his skin, as well as all the mended bones, some like his fingers, ribs, nose, and several bones in his arms that had been broken so many times that the bone hadn't regenerated completely. They were fully healed, but he could see a small, almost millimetric degeneration in the bone structure that wouldn't ever go away.

He also saw a fresh white piece of gauze taped to the lower left side of Bruce's abdomen, covering a recent, almost four inches long cut.

Clark swallowed hard, looking down at the broken body of the bravest, most stubborn man he had ever met. And then, before he could understand what was happening, his back was hitting the wall behind him, his good reflexes the only thing stopping him from tumbling to the floor.

It happened in a matter of seconds. One moment Bruce was lying motionless on the bed, restrained and vulnerable, and the next he was free of his binding (which obviously had been loosened previously) and charging at him. The strength of the attack and surprise of it giving Bruce the opportunity to make a run for the door before Clark recovered enough to talk.

"Wait! B, it's me."

Bruce stopped a couple of feet outside the door, every muscle in his body tense as he turned around. Clark could see he was ready to fight or flight at the slightest provocation, even as his narrowed blue eyes assessed him.

Clark raised his hands up in surrender, the movement deliberately slow, so as not to startle him. "We were fighting an army of robots with Wonder Woman and Flash when a beam was shot and I flew to where you were standing to try to get you out of the way."

The look on Bruce's face told him what the other man thought of his rescue attempt. And considering their current situation, Clark had to agree with him.

"You took your time getting here."

Clark rolled his eyes, moving closer. "I'm glad to see you too."

"I suppose you've met your double already?" The light from the open door lighted the way as Bruce started walking away from the room without waiting for an answer.

"Yes," Clark answered simply, following Bruce as he started moving in the direction Clark had come from. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Where's he?"

"I left him locked up in the Fortress before coming to look for you," Clark saw the glance Bruce sent his way. "I didn't have a lot of time, alright? And unless you think I should have dragged him with me while I looked for you, leave him in the Fortress was the best idea I had. I don't know if you were alright so I had to move quickly."

Bruce only grunted in reply, and they walked in silence for a long moment after that.

Clark hesitated. "Did he … did he, you know, hurt you?"

Brow furrowed, Bruce turned his head to look at Clark. They were reaching the main area of the cave and the very faint beam of light barely visible ahead of them was enough to let him see the unguarded, worried expression on Clark's face.

"He didn't. He may be acting irrationally, but he's still Superman."

Bruce heard Clark suck in a breath. He realized too late why that had been the wrong thing to say. He watched him out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything else, and neither did Clark.

"Then why are you, you know, uh, like that?" Clark asked after a moment, making a vague gesture. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he kept his eyes firmly on Bruce's face.

For as long as he had known the other man, Bruce had never been self-conscious about his body. Batman's protective suit, Bruce Wayne's stylish clothes or even the most ridiculous of his disguises. Bruce wore it all with the same grace and poise, but somehow, watching a half-naked Bruce walk around the darkened place after being abducted and locked up as if it were the most natural thing in the world was just wrong.

"He took off my suit to treat to my injuries," Bruce barely refrained from rolling his eyes, watching as Clark shot him a doubtful look. "I wasn't exactly forthcoming, so he took it off to make sure I wasn't hiding any injuries."

They didn't stop walking once they left the darkness behind. Clark wasn't sure if Bruce was heading to a specific place in the cave, but didn't question him. He floated along with him, his feet only a couple of inches above the ground.

"I don't suppose you saw my suit somewhere when you came in,"

Clark didn't answer, doing a quick sweep of the area with his x-ray vision. "It's not here."

Bruce cursed under his breath, resisting the urge to lift a hand to massage his temple. He could already feel a headache coming. Damn it! He hated dimension travel. "What about any other suits?"

"There's nothing. Just the suit in the memori- uh, the glass case."

"Yes. I saw it when he flew me in." Bruce grimaced, long strides covering the distance in seconds. He stood motionless before the glass case for a second, maybe two, before he started to work it open.

That small hesitation was enough to let Clark know he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to put on that suit. He watched as Bruce's fingers brushed over one of the hidden buckles on the right shoulder (one of the several buckles Bruce's suit didn't have).

"I could try to look for your suit," Clark offered softly, watching Bruce study the suit before pulling it out.

Bruce's only answer to that was a snort, and it wasn't until he had put on the lower part of the suit and was starting on the rest that he spoke again, rolling his eyes at Clark.

"You can stop looking at me like I'm going to burst into tears any second now. The only reason I didn't want to use this," He jabbed a finger at the chest plates he had just put on. "Is Superman."

Clark said nothing to that.

"It's obvious he made this memorial, or whatever it is supposed to be," Bruce said, waving a hand in the direction of the now empty glass case. "How do you think he's going to react when he realizes we didn't only 'profane' it, but that we also took the suit and I'm using it?"

Clark didn't have anything to say to that. With what he saw of Superman so far, he was sure Bruce's prediction was spot on.

As soon as the boots were secured on his feet and with the cowl on his hand, Bruce moved fast, reaching the dark bank of monitors and sitting in the empty chair before them without hesitation.

Brow furrowed, Clark came to stand at Bruce's side, watching the screens come to live with just a couple of keystrokes from Bruce's gauntleted fingers.

"Uh, B?"

"We need information," He replied briskly. "We need to know if there's a Justice League here, and we need to know the type of relationship Superman has with them to know if ask for their assistance to return home it's an option. We can't rule out that their reaction might be similar to Superman's."

It wasn't long before the screens were filled with news articles, videos, photos, and files. He saw a photo of Diana in one of the files, and one of Flash in a newspaper article.

Everything faded away when he caught sight of a video in one of the screens on the far right. The quality was poor (probably taken with a cell phone). It was the middle of a battle, he could tell. The camera was pointing up to the sky, taking on Superman shooting beams of heat vision against one of the biggest creatures they were fighting. There was a final, loud pounding sound then, followed by screams as the camera shakily panned away.

In the middle of the smoke, dust, and rubble lay a still, dark figure on the ground. Clark wasn't sure if he was imagining the red tint around the body. He waited. One, two, three beats. Waited for the dark figure to move. Waited for a red and blue blur to descend beside the motionless body.

Neither happened. The screen went dark before the video started again, with Superman flying in the bright blue sky again.

"The Justice League doesn't exist."

Clark's attention was snapped back to the present by Bruce's voice just seconds before the screen came to rest on the dark figure again for the fourth time.

He furrowed his brow as the words registered. "What? You mean it hasn't been formed yet?"

"No. I mean it doesn't exist. Not anymore."

Clark moved closer, his frown deepening with every word he read. Two years and five months since the League had been officially dissolved. Almost four since Batman's death.

"This- this can't be right. Where's Diana? And J'onn? Where's- where's everyone else?"

"Diana and Shayera returned to Themyscira and Thanagar respectively, though by the looks of it both have made appearances from time to time. J'onn is a shapeshifter, so it's hard to say where he is. As for the rest, most of them are still out on the streets working. There have been partnerships between them," With a keystroke, a newspaper article showing Flash and Green Arrow together showed up on the screen. "But for the most part, they seem to stay in their own cities."

Clark stood there, heart hammering in his chest as his eyes took in the nightmare before him. How could the Justice League be just gone? It made no sense. Find a Justice League different from his own would have been strange, but not impossible. And even if the concept of a League without Batman was simply wrong, he would have understood if the Justice League was yet to be formed. But this ... this he couldn't understand.

The prolonged silence that followed made Bruce turn his head slightly, lifting his eyes to look at Clark. He caught the lost expression on his face, the slightly furrowed brow as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Bruce couldn't blame him.

Clark's head snapped up, his x-ray vision confirming what his hearing had picked up.

"He's here."

Clark watched Bruce put on the cowl, and then followed him as they moved away from the bank of monitors. They came to a stop in an empty area of the cave just as Superman flew in, descending slowly to stand in front of them.


...


a/n: I'm really sorry it took me so long to update this chapter. Real life got a bit in the way and then I struggled a bit in a few parts. But well, this chapter is a lot longer than I anticipated, so I hope you're still interested in this. And also, thank you so much everyone for the wonderful comments! They mean a lot to me!

Anyway, I probably should have mentioned before that even if I keep going with this fic, there wouldn't be really technical or detailed answers about things like how they got there and stuff like that. This was mostly about Bruce and Clark interaction, and their reactions visiting a world where Batman is dead.

Also, for those reading about the League's disintegration and rolling their eyes being like: "Yeah, right. Batman is the best ever and so the League can't work without him" I assure you that's not my take on it, and would be explained further in the next chapter. I love Batman, and I think he's a very important part of the League, I just don't think is fair or realistic thinking that the League will fall apart without him. There's only one chapter left, which I hope will be posted sooner than this one.