Bruce dies
Bruce talks Kal down -> this one
Bruce goes home
And maybe it isn't contained to that reality. Maybe the Justice League is in a meeting one day, when a portal opens, Nightwing tumbles out, right into Batman's arms.
They're on guard, weapons drawn, and Bruce is too, he knows he should step back, but— his baby looks so tired.
Dick is just clutching onto Bruce, staring at him, and slowly the Justice League realise this is something worse than an evil visitor. They've seen that look on Dick before, but this one is carved into his face, has been for years now, what it means is undeniable: Bruce is dead, where he came from.
Dick doesn't say anything in front of the others, drags Bruce to one of the secure rooms, and starts reporting on everything, until his voice gets shaky, his hands tremble, and he breaks, falling into Bruce's arms, giving him the rest of the information from there, clutching him close, crying into his shoulder.
Bruce can't fathom what he's saying. That he's from an alternate universe, from the future, and needs Bruce to save his world. To talk Clark back from the edge, to find whatever permanent solution Bruce can bring himself to enact, so their world stands a chance at surviving his grief. The grief of a man immortal under their sun.
Bruce rubs his wedding ring, and agrees. Doesn't let anyone come with, doesn't tell them what it's about. Follows Dick back through the portal, and walks into devastation.
They land in Switzerland. They're swarmed with weapons, screaming "HE SUCCEEDED" ricocheting around in terror, until a small collection of world leaders walk out, hands raised, calling for calm. This is not the one they fear. No one dare say his name, lest Kal-El come to investigate why his love is being discussed, it's become taboo. Bruce walks through the halls of the building, Dick at his side, until they enter a grand hall, filled with world leaders Bruce recognises, drawn and aged and scared. Nothing like the men and women of his own universe.
He is stared at, a walking nightmare now, by the entire room. Slowly, Jason steps forward, a gun aimed at his head. "You're not him?" Bruce shakes his head, and is nearly bowled over by his son, and holds him close, as he shakes and trembles. "Thank god." He other kids follow, older, broken, mutilated by Kal-El again and again, and the room itches around them, but gives the family a moment. Everyone knows who the Bats are now. They are the last vestiges of Gotham's hope.
Then the real talks begin. World leaders, demanding Batman eliminate the threat. It is why he was brought here. Why the UN pooled together their best scientists to rebuild old Justice League technology, improve it, and give them a chance to end Kal-El's reign of terror.
Bruce refuses to kill, and it's easily accepted. They knew that summoning him. But they need him to get Kal-El to stop, however he manages that. Another Batman was their last hope.
Bruce agrees.
He's transported to Gotham. Drones follow, broadcasting footage back to the UN, so they can monitor the situation, check that Kal-El really is neutralised. They give him the time he needs when he reaches the border, decorated with warnings in the form of his friends' corpses. Then a drone nudges his shoulder, operated by Tim, and he carries on.
Finds Kal-El, kneeling where he always is.
He doesn't look up until Bruce kneels beside him, and their sides brush. "I thought I imagined that heartbeat," he whispers, then Bruce is slammed to the floor, a hand around his throat. "Who are you?"
Bruce doesn't react to being pinned in the floor. No, he simply stares at the alternate version of his husband, identical, really, yet the one before him is broken, and cruel, and he does not recognise him.
In the end, that is all it takes. Not seeing recognition in Bruce's eyes. And he flies back, demands the imposter leave, he's not Bruce. The UN watches as all Batman does is talk. Sat exactly where Kal-El left him, talking him down, forcing him to look at the sphere the corpse is encased in, forcing him to see that it isn't his husband anymore, it's just a husk.
The UN watches as Kal-El breaks down, crying at the base of the shrine, apologies spilling from him to ears that can't hear. Bruce stands, drawing the attention back to him again, and Kal-El lands at his feet, craters forming around his knees where they slam into concrete. "Please stay. Please, I need you."
"I can't."
"Look at what I am without you."
Bruce cups Kal-El's face, turning it up to him. "I am not him." The UN panics, they don't want him to break the delusion, but their only communication is the drones, and Bruce doesn't react to the urgent, beeped warnings in morse code.
Kal-El leans against Bruce's legs, chin tilted up to look at him. Bruce just smiles down at him. "And who said you don't have him anymore? You think death can stop Batman from staying by his loved ones' side."
Hope flickers to life in Kal-El's eyes, only to quickly dim. "Surely I have driven him away."
"I understand what you've done. I don't condone it, goddammit Kal, what were you thinking, but I understand you. He might want to give you a wallop 'round the ears, but I don't think you've driven him away." Bruce isn't sure if he's lying. He does understand where Kal is coming from, the core-deep devotion to each other was a worry when they first got together, because of exactly this reason. Both of them struggle to reason when it comes to the other.
....But he's not sure if he wouldn't be driven away by this.
It horrifies him, that he can be faced with this degree of brutality from the man he loves, and be so in love with him that he doesn't immediately run the other way.
"You're lying to me," Kal-El whispers, pressing his forehead into Bruce's thighs.
"I'm divided. It isn't a lie. But I am not him. ...Did your Bruce believe in second chances?"
"You know he did."
"Then you know you stand a chance." Bruce cups his cheek. "Are you going to earn it?"
Kal-El clutches Bruce's legs tighter for a beat, then slowly stands, and faces one of the drones monitoring them. "If I am permitted, I will do everything I can to atone for my transgressions on this world. I will restabalise governments, assist in the imprisonment of Rogues that have taken over, I will rebuild cities, I will dispose safely of the nuclear waste, I will protect citizens in the manner I did previously, with honour, if you feel safe with me doing so. I will live out what remains of my days in your custody, I will hand over means of doling out my execution, if that is what you want. Regardless of your decision," Clark bows his head, teary. "I apologise for the cruelty I have dealt onto this world."
The drone whirs quietly, no response coming, and Bruce nods at the camera. "I will bring Superman to you, and give you time to debate the issue."
Bruce puts a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Take him down," he suggests. "We'll let the kids bury him."
Clark nods miserably and breaks the sphere, slowly taking the corpse into his arms, and Bruce walks alongside the broken man all the way to the other side of Gotham, where they drop him off to be dealt with later. Laid out among Martha Wayne's roses, for when the kids come back, and do with their father's body as they please.
Bruce gives Clark time to say goodbye, and walks through the manor in the meantime. Perfectly preserved, so similar to Bruce's own manner of grieving that it makes him itch. Like at any moment, people will return to the house and live in it once more.
....Maybe now they will.
He meets Clark back out of the lawn, and they again, walk through the city, all the way to the Metropolis border, where the plane he arrived in waits. At their approach, a handful of people (the few brazen enough to approach something wearing the brand of Kal-El's lover so clearly) run screaming, and Bruce makes no motion to comfort Clark as he is visibly hit by a wave of guilt.
The flight back to Switzerland is when Bruce dresses Clark up in all manner of Kryptonite bindings, neutralising any final threat he poses, so maybe the UN is less scared, more objective when making the decision on him.
Clark is left to wait alone in the ship as Bruce exits. He's met with a crowd, forced to press palms with exceedingly grateful politicians, until he's finally facing his children clustered together. Each of them indulge in one final hug, and Bruce restrains himself from the urge to coddle them all. This is not his world. These are not his children. It is not his Clark.
He is met with just as much reluctance from them, as the machine is set up to return him.
The portal opens, he steps through, and his husband yanks him fully into their universe by the front of his suit.
