She was on the run. The streets of Gotham weren't the most welcoming of sorts, but they were perfect for those trying to hide: whether it be from justice and the law or an unloving home and the truth. She was part of the latter group at the moment, although there was always the off chance that someone had noticed her missing by now and decided to alert the police.

She doubted it though– after all, Bruce didn't want her around anymore.

Helena was hunched in a back alley as the sun had finally started going down, eating an apple she had bought at a fruit stand on the main road. She was wearing a dark hoodie, with the hood up to hide her face more in the advancing shadows, and she had a backpack slung around her shoulders that held a few more clothing and food items. She was glad that it kept her back from scraping against the rough buildings she had come to lean against in the past two days.

She was lost, both physically and emotionally. Gotham was still fairly unknown to her, and she had no idea what to do now that she had fled Wayne Manor. She missed Alfred. She missed her brother Dick. She missed Bruce's hugs and feeling like she had a home.

She hadn't wanted to impose on Artemis and her mother. Mrs. Crock was a single disabled mother and had both Artemis and her older sister Jade to care for– Helena didn't want to seem like a burden. She had made an excuse about being able to stay with a cousin and left for the streets, spending her first night up in the safety of a tree in one of Gotham's Parks.

She looked up as darkness fell and the street lights turned on, signalling the start of her second night. Already she felt uneasy, and tossed the remains of her apple across from her so she could braid her hair out of her face. She felt like she would need to be cautious tonight.

Helena's instincts were right. She heard voices and footsteps coming her direction and made a sprint for it back to the streets– staying ahead of them and in better lit spots.

Luck wasn't on her side tonight. A car pulled up just as she came out of the alley and rolled down the windows; whoever the people were behind her were clearly of interest to the car's passengers. Helena's eyes as a gun came into view through the window and sprinted to the side, hoping she could get out of the way fast enough–

Pop pop pop!

Helena only heard three shots before a heavy thud and shouts came from the direction of the car; she had been so focused on getting to safety that she missed the first shadowed figure passing overhead to confront the shootout. The second one she did notice, mainly because she didn't have a choice since he landed in front of her.

"Are you alright?! You didn't get hit, did you?" The man before her was clad in a black suit with a blue striped pattern across his chest. Another superhero, maybe? Helena was at least sure that he wasn't the Bat.

"I- I'm fine," she sniffled, feeling her eyes tearing up. Now that she was safe and crashing from the adrenaline high, everything that had happened came rushing back to her. She almost got shot again! She had left her new home! Even if Bruce hadn't wanted her, Alfred and Dick had and that should have been good enough for her. She was so, so stupid. "I want to go home!" She finally cried. It was all becoming too much for her, and she was breathing too fast, and her head hurt, and the smell of smoke was coming from somewhere and it was just enough to remind her of what she'd lost–

She was scooped up into the man's arms. "It's okay, birdie," he muttered softly. "We're going back." She nodded into his neck and let her eyes shut tiredly– but not before she caught a glimpse of the Bat standing on top of the car that had shot at her.

Helena woke up hours later in her bed. It wasn't quite morning yet, as it was still dark out, but it was just light enough that she could see Bruce sitting in a chair in the corner of her room. She sat up, looking anywhere but at him. "Hi," she mumbled ashamedly.

He was quiet for a minute, and Helena began to worry he was asleep. "What were you thinking?" He finally asked her harshly.

Helena flushed red in shame. "I heard you and Dick arguing over me being here. He said if you didn't tell me soon it would end badly… I thought it meant you weren't going to keep me any longer."

A heavy and annoyed sigh came from Bruce. "So you run away instead of asking us about it?"

"I was scared!"

"You put your safety at risk. Dick and I were searching all of Gotham for you and thank God we found you tonight!"

She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "No... I thought the Bat and some other man saved me."

Another sigh, and she could see his outline reach over and flip a switch on the wall, lighting up her entire room. Helena was pretty sure she stopped breathing as she took in the sight in front of her: Bruce was sitting in her room, wearing the Bat's suit.

"Dick goes by the name Nightwing," he explained slowly. "We had been arguing about whether on not to tell you about our… activities."

"You're the Bat," Helena breathed, still shocked.

"Yes."

"What? When?"

He smirked a bit. "A while." Helena nodded wordlessly. He frowned now. "Helena, you have a home here. I'm sorry there was such a misunderstanding, but I still want you to know that what you did was completely unacceptable. Next time, come to me or Dick or even Alfred."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She watched warily as Bruce stood and walked carefully over to her before crouching to meet her level and wrapping her in a hug. "Thank you," she mumbled softly.

Bruce pulled away after several moments and smiled softly. "Of course, Lena. Now get some rest. We'll talk more later."

Sorry about the hiatus. I've become quite disillusioned with the DC movieverse and lost a lot of drive to write this story, but I don't want to give up on it completely. Here's an end to this immediate cliffhanger and hopefully I'll update again soon.