She hadn't even realized how close she had come to death until she was safely in the man's arms, several feet away from where the several tons of metal had just crashed to the ground. It wasn't like she was terrified at the prospect of almost being killed; a result of the day seemed to be dying anyways.

Everything around her screamed out in grief, from the ruins of the skyscraper that had existed only moment before, to the vocal cries of both the wounded and of the observers who had witnessed such events. In the distance, more buildings could be heard crumbling as the city became an alien battleground, and more plumes of smoke added to the haze lingering in the streets. Twisted metal rods stuck up out of the piles of concrete like crosses and tombstones, turning the area into a graveyard- one she could've been part of.

Half of her wished she was. Looking into her savior's eyes and seeing his genuine worry only reawakened the intense sense of loss that coursed through her veins. The only person she had left to care for her was gone now.

"Hey, are you okay?" Now that her focus was on him, she realized the man was none other than the billionaire Bruce Wayne. His face was plastered on billboards across Metropolis, and she had seen him on the covers of one of her mother's magazines in her office earlier... The girl remembered that she hadn't answered Mr. Wayne's question, and nodded mutely in response. She didn't trust her voice at the moment.

Mr. Wayne surveyed the city block questioningly, his eyebrows furrowing. "Let's find your mother. Where is she?"

There it was: the pain caused her chest to clench and made taking each breath a struggle. Just breathe, keep breathing, she chided herself. A tear leaked out of her eye as she turned and pointed at what was now the top of a neighboring building. She tried not to look at the jagged line that now separated the topmost floor from the sky, and she tried not to think about how her mother had been working five floors above that. Ignore it, think of something else. Trouble was, it was difficult to keep her eyes and mind off of the destruction.

The same seemed to apply to Mr. Wayne. He exhaled sharply and gently spun her to face him. More tears had freely begun to flow down her cheeks, and only after the man enveloped her in a hug did she realize that she was crying. She clung to him as she sobbed quietly, the gravity of the situation hitting her.

Her mother, the only family she had, was dead. Her home was most likely gone too, as she was fairly certain their apartment building had been one of the closest to the repeating shock waves made by large ship that had landed in the city's center. She wanted to badly wake up from this nightmare, but the warmth from the hug she was currently in reminded her that the world around her was real.

When she finally released Mr. Wayne, the man attempted a small smile for her. "It might take a while," he warned, "but you're gonna be okay, I promise." After receiving another silent nod, he stood up and offered her his hand. "Come on, I'll bring you to the rescue crews."

Somewhere deep inside, she knew this wasn't where she was supposed to go, and she let this be heard. "No."

Mr. Wayne stopped guiding her through the rubble. "What?"

She shrank back at his questioning tone. "I want to stay with you," she whispered. "I have no one left. I don't want to go into the system." She wasn't prepared for the understanding expression that flooded his features.

"How about you come back to Gotham with me?" he asked. "We can decide where to go from there."

"Okay." She let him lead her back to the main street, which was mostly clear of debris in one direction but completely blocked off in the other. Several people were stumbling around as others moved the injured towards parked ambulances and makeshift first aid centers. Three men carried a man by them, his legs limp and deeply cut above the knee. Mr. Wayne pushed her behind him in a effort to save her from seeing the depth of his wounds. She took the chance to look back at the remains of the Wayne Enterprises building; she didn't expect for the scourers to find many living. She wondered if Mr. Wayne had come looking for anyone, but decided against voicing such a question.

"Mr. Wayne!" A young woman ran up to the two of them, her shout drawing the attention of others. The girl felt him stand up straighter as the woman began to address him. "I know it's not much, but thank you for saving us. I was on the fifth floor, but because you ordered us all to get out..."

"It's alright," he saved her from continuing. "I tried to do all I could for this company, my family- I'm only sorry I couldn't do more." She was certain that he had lost someone now and squeezed his hand as her own way to console him. He glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow; his action drew the attention of the woman and few others that had gathered around them. She moved behind him even more, hoping to avoid becoming the subject of their questioning. Thankfully, Mr. Wayne saved her once again.

"If you'll excuse us, I want to have her checked out by the EMTs. It's been a trying day." His smooth words won over their audience, and the two walked over to where the main presence of vehicles began. They didn't stop after the ambulances blocked them from sight, and instead made their way through the thinning crowd to a black Jeep. He opened one of the back doors for her, and she timidly stepped in. Her mother had told her to never get in cars with strangers, but it's not like she had many other options- besides, she did ask for this. She closed the door herself and buckled up while Mr. Wayne got in the driver's seat and turned the keys to start the car.

"We can't drive to Gotham," she spoke up as he drove towards the port side of Metropolis. He looked at her in his mirror.

"I have a helicopter waiting at the docks," he replied.

"Because you're rich."

He let out a laugh. "Yes." A ringing sound filled the car, cut short when he dug his phone out out of his pocket and answered it. "I'm fine, Alfred."

"Of course you're fine," a stern British voice replied. "You've been in worse situations on your nightly-" The man was drowned out by Mr. Wayne's annoyed tone.

"We're having a guest that'll be staying with us for a while."

"Being a gentleman, are we, Master Bruce?"

Mr. Wayne audibly sighed. "Always am, Alfred."

"Of course you are, sir." The older man's sarcasm caused her to quietly giggle. "May I ask who our guest is?"

"..."

"Good lord, have you not even asked their name? They must think you've been raised in a barn!"

She decided to save Mr. Wayne the embarrassment of asking. "I'm Helena."

"Her name is-"

"I heard, Master Bruce. Tell her I shall be awaiting her arrival."

"Thank you, sir," Helena leaned closer to Mr. Wayne's seat and said.

"I like this girl already!" Mr. Wayne groaned and hung up.

Helena smiled and added in the silence: "I think I'll like Mr. Alfred as well."

"Great, just what I need," he muttered. "Alfred having a partner in crime."

Helena had never seen anything more hauntingly beautiful than the Wayne Manor. The building stood in a sea of grass, almost like a monument to something long lost. Vines curled up every wall of the manor and seemed to have choked the life out of it over the years. Against the cloudy sky, the stone walls appeared white... her awe turned to sadness as she realized the clouds were actually smoke. As she climbed out of the Jeep, a mausoleum on the edge of the nearby woods caught her eye. The whole world knew Bruce Wayne's parents had died years ago; she wondered if that was where they were buried.

"Helena?" Mr. Wayne had paused in his trek to the manor's doors when he hadn't felt her following him. He waited until she jogged to his side before continuing into his home. They were only several feet away from the door when it swung open, Alfred clearly expecting their arrival with his sixth sense.

"Ah, Master Bruce, good to see you've managed to stay in one piece for another day." Helena smiled as Mr. Wayne rolled his eyes and patted the elder man on the shoulder.

"You worry too much, Alfred," he shot back. Alfred chuckled and focused on Helena next.

"And this must be Miss Helena." She was glad that he merely shook her hand instead of kneeling down to her height as many adults had done in the past. "Welcome to Wayne Manor."

Helena made sure to give a firm handshake like she'd been taught. "It's nice to meet you, sir." As Alfred closed the door behind the three of them, she did her best to not let the magnificent interior of the mansion distract her too much. "Mr. Wayne, you and Alfred have a pretty home."

Mr. Wayne shared a look with Alfred. "Helena, feel free to call me Bruce."

"Okay, Mr. Wayne." Alfred laughed and led the girl into the kitchen as Bruce Wayne sighed in defeat.

"Miss Helena, I do believe you and I will be good friends," he complimented her. She grinned happily. "Why don't you sit at the bar while I fetch you a drink." Helena wasn't going to argue, she understood Alfred to be the real master of the house. Even Mr. Wayne didn't seem to question him. She made sure to sit patiently with her hands in her lap on one of the bar stools until Alfred placed a glass of water in front of her. She made sure to thank him before emptying it quickly; she hadn't realized how thirsty she was until then.

Helena focused on the British man as he calmly sat next to her. "I'm afraid Master Bruce hasn't used his manners like he was taught to, shame on him. Is it alright if I ask you some questions? Just to fill in some gaps," he reassured her. He proceeded once she nodded. "Could you tell me your last name, Helena? We can't have the police think you've gone missing, so I was planning on contacting them to assure you were safe."

"Jones. When my mom..." She trailed off, blinking away the wetness forming in her eyes. "When she adopted me, I took her last name."

Alfred pursed his lips sadly, and Helena already knew what his next questions were going to be. "I'm dreadfully sorry to ask this, Miss Helena, but what was your mother's name and where did she work?"

"Samantha Jones and Queen Enterprises. She was a sales representative." She did her best to burn a hole into the counter top with her gaze, desperately wanting something to distract her train of thought. "How long have you known Mr. Wayne?"

"Oh, his entire life." Alfred allowed her to change their topic of conversation. "Practically raised that boy since he was about your age..."

"I'm ten," she supplied.

"Double digits! Congratulations." She covered her mouth as she giggled slightly. "And what does this ten year old enjoy doing for fun?"

Helena shrugged. "I like drawing and climbing trees in the park." She didn't mention the feeling of freedom it brought her; that was something sacred that wasn't to be told.

"If you're interested, we might be able to go to the edge of the woods and see if there are any suitable climbing trees, and there's plenty of paper and pens at your disposal for artistic endeavors." He clapped his hands once and stood up. "Let's go see if we can track some down..."

Helena happily followed Alfred out of the room as they went to search for supplies, neither of them noticing that Bruce Wayne had been listening in from the balcony above.

Just a little idea I had when watching BvS the other day... Let's see if it goes anywhere!

~Archie