Barbara was in a coma now. She fought for consciousness on her way to the Tower but lost that battle. The explosion, or boom tube entrance, from Jack Napier was worse the he imagined. A grim scowl pulled along his features. It seemed even from an alternate universe the Joker still managed to spite him. He seemed capable however, but Bruce never quite underestimated the Joker from this universe either. His hand reached forward and gripped hers now, his thumb brushing over her knuckles slowly. The process was stopped half way. She appeared more human with her form being a bit lither and her long red hair settled under her. She still managed to look pretty, at least to him, even in her state.

He then felt a hand on his shoulder, too soft for Superman, but stronger then what he was used to from others. He gave a side long glance to Wonder Woman and then looked back to Barbara.

"I understand she was one of your gallery? I though it would please you to see her like this."

"I want her behind bars, not like this."

Bruce didn't believe her. He removed her grip on his shoulder and turned in his chair. He stared up along her frame and his eyes sought hers for a moment. His arms were folded in his lap. "Then why are you here?"

"To give a friend the support he needs."

"Never needed it before."

"You were never caught in a boom tube explosion before. You're traumatized Bruce, I can see it in the way you falsely accused Jack. Anyone with the right mind could see you wanted to rip his head off."

A hand was waved dismissively in response. "He could have saved the President, I still don't trust him."

Her arms folded under her bust. "You don't trust anyone."

"It's a trait that I think you all should have."

"We're a team, Bruce. I trust you with my life."

That struck him a bit off center and his eyes narrowed on her. "You shouldn't. Last I checked, I'm not the one who can deflect bullets with her wristbands and I don't have the strength of Superman."

She knelt down and her hand slid up and cupped his cheek. Why was she looking at him like that? As if he was a mere plaything? Perhaps he was compared to her. He would be compared to his team, all with different sources of superhuman strength, and technology. More then once has Bruce felt afraid of this so called 'League' that called him their friend and colleague. He felt more like a mobile wallet.

"You have a warrior's spirit and his strength. You may be mortal, but everyone here in the League respects you, Bruce."

When did she lean closer? He should have noticed. "Diana, we shouldn't-"

She was about to kiss him when he gripped her wrist and suddenly used her own forward position against her. She was pressed against the wall, her arm twisted behind her back and his knees pressing against her legs. His front pushed to her back. She could easily break the hold and then break him, yet she didn't fight back. He released his grip and sat down.

"…Get out."

"Bruce I didn-"

"I said; GET OUT!"

His own tone shocked him and he saw the hurt on her noble features. He slumped further in his chair and let his hands slide into his hair. The only thing he focused on was the electronic beeping of the heart monitor. He soon stood up and flipped up his cowl. It was time for he and Jack to have another little chat.

He blocked a wild over the head strike and then weaved to the side as she followed through with an attempted haymaker. They managed to use the docking bay for their sparring. It was the only room large enough for it until this world's Batman arranged to install a proper training facility. They agreed to no gadgets or weapons, only their fists. He gave a glance to his utility belt beside her Nth metal mace. He glanced back just in time to grab her elbow and twist his body to throw her to the ground. He backed away, his feet slid along the ground.

He found himself smiling as she got up and came right back into the fray. She punched several times, leading with her right hand before her leg swung up in a kick aimed for his shoulder. He grabbed, twisted and threw her back to the ground again. She moved too much like Ladyhawk, he was playing passive-aggressive with her. He didn't want to hurt someone that reminded him of his own world.

"So," she managed as she got up, bringing her arms up, "who is it that you're thinking about?"

His brow lofted.

"There were many times where you could have struck me, yet you use a passive tactic instead. Why?"

He held his hands up in a T and approached. She was glad for it, wiping her hand along her sweaty neck and approached her mace. Her wings bobbed behind her with each stride and he picked up his utility belt, swinging it about his waist and locking it with a click.

"Her name was Ladyhawk. She acted a lot like you, you could have been a spitting image of her if you wore the battle armor of your people and dyed your hair back." He offered a warm smile however. "The red works nice too though I think."

"Between you and me, you fight better then the Bat."

He stared at her and laughed then. "We're technically the same. We're the Batman of our respective worlds."

"Jack!"

"Well speak of the devil," Hawkgirl noted with a smile.

He called him too aggressively. He approached with a grim look on his face. Something wasn't right. On a reflex he planted his feet and shoved her aside, just as a batarang slid along his back. His armor protected him, but he felt the impact and went into a crouch. He threw two of his own out, but Batman simply pressed closer, letting them just graze along his side. His knee slid up. Jack's hands blocked it but he used the block as a plant, flipping forward and curling his arms around Jack's neck and throwing him. Jack's back slammed into one of the storage crates.

He barely could gather his senses when his knee slammed into his stomach. An elbow swung out to go to his temple. Jack used palm, slapped against the wrist and then punched him in the sternum. Bruce stumbled back and Jack kicked twice, once at the knee and the second at his ribs. The second was blocked he received a fist to his knee. It went out of joint and Bruce followed up with a spinning heel kick. Jack blocked, leaning a bit on his good leg and pushed off. Bruce spun the other way, swinging out a forearm. Jack blocked, gripped his wrist and slammed his own down. He pulled Bruce's arm and jolted it out of joint. It was not a crippling blow. He would recover, but for now it'd let him get an upper hand.

His arm curled and snapped out, Jack's knuckles slammed against his face. He followed up, his elbow slammed into his ribs. His opposite arm curled under Bruce's good limb and twisted, throwing him onto his back. He slid back two steps again, keeping his arms raised.

"Bruce, get a hold of yourself this doesn't have to end badly."

Bruce got to his feet and suddenly smoke emitted from beneath him. Jack tugged up the mask and it attached to his cowl. He could still breathe the oxygen that went through the Watchtower. His cowl switched to thermal and he swung to the side as Bruce kicked out. He blocked the blow, but the thermal imaging was warped. He didn't see the blow. Bruce's fist crunched into his cowl and shattered one of the lenses. The imaging fizzled out suddenly and Jack's leg was kicked out from beneath him. On reflex he rolled away, spun, and threw a pair of cryogenic pellets.

The smoke faded and one of Bruce's legs was frozen to the ground. He used his good arm and threw a pair of pellets. Jack assumed they were a pair of smoke, but to his pained surprise he was thrown back by the explosive pellets. His back was thrown against the wall, even as the rest of the League came in. Jack's world was spinning. He gripped a portion of the wall and he pulled himself up. He could barely see, he must have struck it too hard.

"What is going on here?" Superman demanded, his voice cracked like thunder.

His voice was so much like Jor-L's then, or it could have been the blow to the head that warped his voice. He turned and with an inhale and exhale the Boy Scout sent the smoke away.

"Ask him," Jack said, an arm curling about his stomach, "he attacked me."

Hawkgirl stirred from her spot. Jack had no doubt that she was hesitant attacking one of her own. She eased him to his feet and stared at him with worry. He watched Bruce for a moment. All he saw was hate behind those orbs, all due to a name that reminded him of this Joker. He felt Hawkgirl's hand curl about his for a moment.

"I'm fine, really," he murmured to her.

"You won't be. I think he blames you."

"No," he corrected, "he blames the Joker."

"…You're not saying-?"

"I'm going to bring him down. Bruce needs to see I'm not who he thinks I am. It needs to be done."

She pulled away for a moment. "Then I may help you."

As the League stared at Bruce and started to question him he and Hawkgirl slipped away. All the while a grim line followed their exit, and not a word was said from the Dark Knight.