Note: So I've been playing a lot of Injustice 2 lately and read the first 2 volumes of the first Injustice comics, thus becoming super inspired to write something loosely based on the storyline. I'm still somewhat new to DC comics and I did my best to research the important canon characters that'll be in this, so forgive me if there's anything off in character personalities/timelines, etc!

At any rate, this is my own take on the Injustice series and I'll be condensing a lot of what happened in the 5+ years of its timeline, scrapping some events and adding others. I don't believe what I write will be enough to stand as a fic under the video game category on this site, especially since a lot of this centers around Bruce and Damian.

But pls let me know what you guys think, and thanks for reading xx


Prologue

"It's been two months, Jessica."

Bruce Wayne's tall, wide figure filled the bedroom doorway as he leaned against the frame, arms crossed. He was dressed smartly in a dark grey suit, looking prepped for another scheduled interview, but the loosened navy blue tie around his neck signaled the end of the day.

The room was modest for a two-bedroom apartment in Gotham and the decorations were scarce with only a calendar hanging by the door, not having been changed for six months. A queen bed positioned against the far wall bore red and white bedding that was hastily made, and a wide dresser made of dark wood stood adjacent to it. The spot that used to be reserved for picture frames was empty and had been taken up by newspaper clippings and books.

Across the room stood a desk made of the same wood with evidence of a stressed, uncaring owner: an unclosed laptop, scattered paperwork, pens that had yet to roll towards the floor, and a half-burned candle that only somewhat smelled like cloves. A small pot housed a plant that had died weeks earlier.

Though it was out of Bruce's view, the walk-in closet was more or less as messy. It wasn't completely full like it used to be; about half of the clothing had long been taken and stuffed into cardboard boxes so that they would be out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.

The girl who lived there stood at the window, her hazel eyes staring unseeingly into the side streets of the city. The knitted sweater she wore was too large and her jeans were ripped at the knees.

Her dark hair was clean and pulled back into a ponytail and the dark circles beneath her eyes had faded, yet this was the best she'd looked in nearly a year.

"Two months since what?"

She didn't remove her gaze from beyond the window, her voice low and almost monotone.

Bruce gave no reply and continued to watch her from the doorway, knowing he had to tread carefully.

"Two months since what, Bruce?" Jess finally glanced over, meeting the man's eyes. "Since you had Big Belly Burger? Since we saw one shred of a positive headline in the news?"

Her voice began to rise but she stopped herself, swallowing hard. "It's been a lot longer than that," she added quietly.

He'd been visiting her frequently since the downfall of world governments and the One Earth's uprising, and thus watched the girl go through months—at times, it felt like years—of pain and suffering… from betrayal and confusion. It had started out with him having to comfort her through tears, letting her scream at him, struggling to find the right words.

Bruce had witnessed these repeated moments of Jessica being broken, distraught, angry, and tried what he could to fix her. It wasn't until about a few months ago that he realized she was only reflecting the same emotions he'd felt since Clark had turned his back. The only difference was that Jessica became consumed by the feelings of betrayal and desperation… and Bruce was too hardened and much better at keeping them at bay.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped further into the room, eyes sweeping over the bedroom. "He asked for you yesterday."

There was tension in her neck as she clenched her jaw, telling Bruce that she couldn't continue the false pretense of ignorance.

"He can keep asking," Jess deadpanned before going to sit on the edge of the bed. "I already told you, Bruce. I don't see any point in it anymore."

"Then why don't you tell him that?"

She shook her head as she played with the frayed seam on her jeans. Her patience had worn thin a long time ago, Bruce could tell, but he knew that she'd been acting stubborn for a reason.

"Maybe it would be easier if I just stopped coming and he realized sooner than later that… there isn't anything left anymore."

The multi-billionaire joined her at the edge of the bed, keeping about a yard of distance between them. He wished she'd look him in the eye, something she'd had trouble doing in the last several months.

"Jess, if you just stop showing up and—"

"I don't owe him an explanation, Bruce," she retorted, raising her head to meet his gaze. The annoyance had broken through her facade. "He knows that I've been struggling with this and that's exactly why I can't do it anymore. I'm trying, but I'm not succeeding." Jess paused and then added, "I'm just fooling myself and so is he."

Bruce was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. She hadn't yelled at him in a long time but it didn't mean the girl still wasn't a fragile, ticking bomb.

"I know you don't owe him anything, Jessie," he began and watched her flinch slightly at the name she hadn't been called for a while, "but I think you owe yourself some closure. If you want to walk away from this, then do it. I'm not going to stop you."

She didn't answer, so he took it as a sign to continue. "You deserve better than this and I know damn well he would agree with me. Do whatever you have to do, Jess, but you have to heal… properly this time."

Bruce allowed moments to pass, hoping the words were sinking in, before deciding his work there was done. He stood from the bed and looked at the young woman he'd considered to be a daughter. It pained him to see the repercussions of the world taking ahold of her, claiming her as another victim among many, but not even Alfred had to tell him that he was never going to bring her back to the way she'd been before.

"You know how to reach me if you need me."

He was sure he'd be back there in that apartment within the next few weeks or so, but Bruce still glanced around as he approached the front door as if to memorize all the details. To this day he still wondered if he would stop by to see that she'd packed up and left.

The car beeped as he unlocked its doors. He reached for the handle and then heard his name.

Jess was standing at the main door that opened up to the apartment building. "What's your schedule like for the rest of the day?"

Something like relief eased the tension in his chest and Bruce waved towards his passenger seat. "We can head there right now."

She nodded and headed down the steps. "It's been a while since I've sat in this seat," she mused while buckling her seatbelt.

Bruce didn't say anything but he guessed that they were both thinking the same thing: it could very well be the last time they went together to Stryker's.


She could have navigated Lex Luthor's meta-human prison blindfolded and it wouldn't have been a problem.

Even after having traveled its halls and walked the same path hundreds of times, Jess couldn't help but feel like this one time was different. The same shiny, reinforced walls greeted her and the air was slightly chill (the air conditioning had never changed in all the times she'd visited), but… she felt like she would never see the inside of this place again.

Bright fluorescent lighting illuminated her and Bruce as they headed deeper within the complex. Stryker's had always looked too high-tech and steely for a prison, but then there was the fact that it wasn't a normal prison for normal criminals.

"You alright?"

Jess looked over and met Bruce's subtle but inquisitive gaze. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just… never mind."

She felt pathetic for not having a better response but she knew that the man wasn't judging her.

Up ahead was a set of wide, heavy sliding doors. Beyond them, Jess recognized the figures of Jaime, Jason, and Professor Stein. They were leaving a hallway that led to the holding cells and appeared to be in deep discussion.

Jaime was the first one to notice the other two. The mask on his bright blue suit retracted, revealing his kind smile. "Hola, Mr. Wayne and Jess. Long time no see."

Jess and Bruce stopped in front of the small group and Jess offered a small smile in return. "Hey, Jaime."

"Wow, I'm surprised you're here," Jason spoke up, raising his brows. "I thought you weren't going to ever come back."

Normally a comment like that would've had her eyes rolling, but instead the teenager's insensitivity got under her skin for once. Before Jess could even find the strength to form a response, Jaime was elbowing Jason and Professor Stein cleared his throat loudly.

"It's good to see you again, Jessica," the older man said kindly.

"Thanks, Professor. You too."

Jason gave her an awkward (perhaps apologetic?) smile before being shuffled along by Jaime. Jess and Bruce continued on, neither one of them mentioning what had just happened.

The doors slid open with a mechanical whoosh and they approached the first door on the right, which was manned by a heavily armed guard. Bruce exchanged nods with the man who opened the door and let the two walk in.

The visiting room was split in half by a glass wall that separated prisoners and visitors. There were five spots, all empty, with six-foot-tall dividers on each side for privacy. Each booth had a phone that hung on the left where useless conversations and pleas for forgiveness were made.

Jess took the seat against the far wall, the one she'd always sat in, and barely flinched at the cold metal that she could feel through her jeans.

"I'll be outside," Bruce said before the metal door shut with a metal clang.

Suddenly her hands were clammy. During the car ride, she had turned over in her head the words she'd say, all the possibilities and the questions and the answers... She would be strong and disobey her heart for once.

Now that she was approaching the dreadful moment, everything had gone out the window and her mind was blank.

On the other side of the glass, another door opened.

Damian Wayne entered the room and as usual, he was wearing the white and orange uniform that marked his identity as a prisoner.

His short dark hair was slightly disheveled, though Jess knew he wouldn't have agreed if she'd told him so. He'd always said that short hair couldn't be messy, and that had given her a free pass to run her fingers through it whenever she wanted, even if it annoyed him.

"Like you said, short hair can't get messy," she'd tease.

Damian's gaze landed right on Jess and the change in his eyes was instantaneous. The confusion morphed into relief as if he'd been expecting someone else. The guard who'd let him in took his post near the door as Damian took the seat across from Jess.

He reached for the phone on his side and so did she.

"Jess."

Hearing him say her name hurt and she hated that it did. It was stupid, but perhaps that was to be expected when she hadn't heard his voice or seen his face in months.

Damian was staring at her through the glass. "I thought... You haven't—I didn't think you were coming back."

Taking a deep breath, Jess forced herself to meet his gaze. "Yeah, I didn't think I was either."

"Why didn't you choose to see me in person?"

She had to take a moment to consider her words. "I didn't think that was best."

The briefest look of pain flashed across his face as he said, "What? Why not?"

She'd offended him but Jess knew that there was a reason she'd asked Bruce to see Damian in this specific room. After some time visiting him, he'd earned the ability to see visitors in a more open and accessible room that wasn't divided by glass. They'd been able to actually sit at a table and be together.

But this time, it couldn't be that way. Jess knew that if they were sharing the same space, the same air, and were close enough to touch... It would be over for her resolve, or what was left of it anyway.

"I just can't, Damian," Jess said finally, wishing she didn't have to explain herself.

It had been a disaster, the first time she'd come to see him. They'd broken out into a verbal fight within these walls and Bruce had had to drag her out. For the following weeks, she would attempt to get answers, arguing with Damian and growing exhausted from it.

Eventually, when they'd started seeing each other in person, they began holding much more civil conversations while she wondering how he was living in such a place.

But he wasn't.

Jess knew Damian and he didn't have to say anything for her to see he was dying to leave. Even now as he gazed at her from the inside, she could tell he was yearning to be closer... as was she.

"I thought you said you'd forgiven me," Damian said, running his eyes over her face.

"I did. I have."

"Then why haven't I seen you in months?"

Jess swallowed, fighting the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. Damian didn't look angry, not the way he did the first several weeks. No, he looked... disappointed and hurt, like someone who'd been left behind. Someone who just needed answers.

She pushed against them, but those wretched feelings of guilt and the need to protect him inched into her conscience. They had consumed her for a long time after Damian was captured and locked up here, and Jess had found herself in mental and emotional shambles, trying to figure out how to love and understand him but be angry at the same time.

He'd grown up with one of the most unimaginable childhoods Jess could fathom and she'd met him while he was on a broken path to redemption, trying to make Bruce proud.

Then they'd fallen in love and he joined Superman's regime, aiding in his prejudiced tirade against evil and injustice.

Now they were here, on separate sides of the war and the glass.

"I couldn't decide if I wanted to see you ever again," Jess responded quietly, meeting his gaze. "Yes, I've forgiven you and finally started letting go of what happened, but..."

"But what?"

Jess took a deep breath. "That doesn't mean we're ever going to be the same again, Damian."

"We said we'd work past this," Damian insisted leaning forward. His tone held frustration and Jess had a feeling it'd grow more desperate and angry. "We said we would move on and learn from our mistakes."

And they had. They'd spent hours and hours fighting about who was right or wrong, morality and justice, which side of the war was the "better" side, trying to see eye to eye... It had taken a wile for Damian to admit that he was regretful for how his actions had affected their relationship. Jess knew that their world was dangerous but she'd always felt like she was in Damian's life for a reason: to keep him grounded and see things through a lens that he'd never glanced in as a child.

"But that's all we did," Jess replied firmly. "All we've done is talk and talk in this prison but at the end of the day, what does that really mean? Nothing."

She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth. Damian looked away, the hand holding the phone clenching hard enough that his knuckles turned white. Moments passed, Jess's heart thudding loudly, and then he finally looked back up at her.

"So after all this time... you're walking away?"

His voice was low but the pain was there. She had never wanted to hurt him despite everything he'd done, but maybe Bruce was right.

Trying to keep her voice even, she answered, "I have to... for myself." He didn't respond, so Jess willed herself to continue, knowing she had to get the words out before the tears did. "I've tried for months, Damian, to stay here. For you. You and I both know how hard it was for us to even have a conversation without someone getting hurt or crying or..."

She paused to take a breath since her throat was feeling tight. "I thought we'd come to an agreement, too, and you're right, we talked about it and we made a plan and said we would stick together through this—"

"Then what changed?" Damian raised his voice, not to Jess's surprise. "We were doing fine, Jess, and now you're deciding to just give up?"

"We changed, Damian!"

The sudden outburst startled them both. Jess breathed heavily, her blood pressure having skyrocketed, and Damian stared at her for a long moment before leaning back in his chair.

Her eyes stung with oncoming tears but she pushed on. "We are not the same people we were years ago! You betrayed your father, you betrayed me, and that... that destroyed us." Damian stayed silent but Jess could see that her words were digging deep. "I know that we tried to compromise and to understand each other, but you've been here for too long, Damian.

For the longest time, I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. Bruce came to see me every other day to make sure I wasn't missing or dead or insane, and sometimes... sometimes I wish I was."

"Jess..."

She shook her head, not wanting to let him speak. All the emotions that she'd thought had run their course were making a comeback, overwhelming her and bringing physical pain to her entire being. Angry tears rolled down her face and she almost couldn't see Damian through the blurriness.

"Don't you get it? We've been fooling ourselves. You've been locked up in here and I've spent my time waking up alone and confused and still coming to see you, to talk, to feel like there was hope for us.

So what if we thought we were on a path to being together again, to being okay…? I don't want to be okay, Damian," Jess said, wiping hastily at her face. "I want us to go back to the way we were, and that's just not going to happen. Ever."

He was crying. He had never usually been one to shed tears for too many reasons to be named, but the fact that there was wetness on his cheeks spoke volumes.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Damian nearly whispered. "I thought we would... I thought you wanted to wait until I got out and—"

"I can't wait anymore," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I've spent so much of my time being naive and pathetic, waiting for my criminal boyfriend to get out of jail."

Damian flinched but she knew it was the truth, one that had to be said aloud.

"I admire Bruce for being as patient as he could while trying to raise you... while you tried to redeem yourself and change your ways," Jess continued. "If only I had that same patience."

"But you do, Jess! You've stuck with me all this time to be here for me and to salvage what's left of us." Damian reached out to touch the glass, his eyes shiny with tears and desperation. "How can you throw all of what we had away? After all the work we've done to stay together?"

She couldn't do it anymore. She wasn't going to listen to him ask her to stay, to consider everything they'd been through. If there was any chance that she would actually be strong and do something for herself, it was now.

Jess felt more hot tears slide down her face as she reached to put her hand over Damian's. The glass separated them but it was the closest they'd get. "I've always loved you as much as I possibly could," she began, her voice shaking. Damian opened his mouth to protest but she went on. "But I can't be here for you anymore, Damian... I'm sorry."

As she proceeded to hang up the phone, Damian called for her. "Jess. Jess, wait!"

Just keep walking. Don't stop.

She rapped her knuckles against the door and it opened, revealing Bruce.

"We can talk this through! Jess, please! Jessica!" Damian's voice broke and so did Jess's composure. Her shoulders shook with sobs as Bruce wrapped her in an embrace as if to hold her together.

The door shut with the same heavy clang and Damian Wayne's pleas were cut off, leaving the two in an empty hallway that echoed with her cries.