Dr. Bruce T. Wayne

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"I don't give a damn." Bruce sighs and pulls out an artificial sunlight lamp, not sure if it will work, but he's hopeful.

"There's no real sun down here, is there? No way for you to rejuvenate?"

"May I come closer?" Bruce will only move if he's permitted; he will not invade the other's space.

"Lex is weak; it's why he abuses you. To feel power he doesn't have and never had with his own father," Bruce sighs, mostly to himself; he doesn't know if this one will understand his words. -

|| can't get it out if my head.

him thinking he is."

Bruce kneels down, his satchel pulled to his front side as he rummages through it.

"Are you hurt? I'm a doctor."

A coil in his stomach unravels with every inch he's given from the other, a breath let out as his own body relaxes.

"I've known Luthor a long time," he starts to say, "he can try. But he isn't God. He isn't all powerful either."

Bruce takes only a step forward. Just one.

"And I grow tired of-

|| IT JUST HAPPENED.

can call me that." He's hoping to get something of a name for the other as well, anything at all.

Make it personal. Keep it light.

"Go on." He gestures with a simple gloved hand at the bag. "You might like the candy bars. Cadbury makes a delicious one. So yummy." He's trying here; he really wants to get the clone's trust, but the years under Lex's control has proven to be catastrophic.

"I'm Bruce. That's my name. You-

|| I wasnt going for this Bruce to have a damn English accent, but here we are.

"I have food. I can leave it right here." He drops the bag with the food in it feet from him, a little toss toward the other. "Water, sandwiches, candy bars..."

Tony had come up with so he could carry his armored suit any where at the press of a button.

He might need it. He hoped not, but he might.

Bruce is much smaller than the clone, by inches and size, muscle mass and weight. Bruce is fit, but wouldn't last against the clone without the suit.-

What would scare others only urged Bruce to continue. A deep ache in his own chest to see the mockery that had been made id this poor man. Clone or not, he was still a creature living under the same sun, or least, should've been.

"I won't." Brude is thankful for the technology he and-

tone unlike Luther's at all, slight and almost a sing-song, a tinge if European accent in there from years with Alfred and living abroad.

His mannerism are kind, and as soon as he hits the light, his features are too.

"Can I help you?"

There we go, he thinks, only taking steps that are deliberate, slow, and thoughtful. One in front of the other, a slow padding across unable and unknown ground and gravity. He's only human, after all, there isnt much here to save this when it goes awry.

"Clearly not Lex," he offers,-

his polite candor.

now bad for him.

He put his hands out, to show he's unarmed (albeit stupidly).

In his second pack is supplies of food, real food, not rations, and water.

Bruce isn't sure how much of this is helpful, if at all.

And maybe this was a bad idea.

"Hello," he lilts softly, hoping to disarm with-

It's not unknown to him that the world around him is attuned to the people in it, the people that step inside, to change and circumstance. If that's correct, then the man he sees is not happy to see him.

Feral, scared, and angry. All things Bruce knows by heart to be bbad for the soul and right-

i do not desire a mediocre love. i want to drown in someone.

He hops, one partition to another, careful not to fall through cracks or unseamed floors that might lead to worlds untamed.

Tony didn't prepare him for that reality.

He has his satchel over one shoulder, all his doctorly basics he might need with him.

A figure in the distance appears.

Its like nothing hes ever seen, and he's seen quite a bit. Like a universe of digital footprints, locked and loaded without even a real ounce of sunlight. Artifical, yes, but real? If the clone was here, Bruce already felt immense sorrow for the life he led.

If it were a life at all.
-

❝ 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩'𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 . . . ❞

a man in a blue superman costume with a red s on the chest ALT: a man in a blue superman costume with a red s on the chest

“I’m a friend!.”
Original AU Portrayal of Clark Kent/Superman
Father of 3 Boys
The Man of Steel
Ships with chemistry

❝

𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑬.

❝

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

from Tony, opening the gateway.

"Someone needs to help him."

"And that someone is always you." Tony pushes Bruce in, engine of the gateway whirling. "Good luck, bats."

He steps back into the void if the pocket universe, on the hunt for a clone.

"Don't be stupid in there," Tony sighs, fixing the suit on Bruce before patting his face.

"When have I ever?"

A look, and Tony is rolling his eyes. "If that's thing is feral, you drop it and leave it."

"I'm not a dog, Tony."

"Drop it and leave it."

Bruce plucks plucks the controller-

Bruce rather rip his own eyeballs out.

He won't though. No matter how blind he could be, they were still useful.

With the little help he and and his own working knowledge of the science behind pocket universe, they managed.

Not a great endearing feat, but one enough. -