The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 19 - Adapt

Alfred arrived in a Rolls-Royce to pick up Sara after she was discharged from the hospital. She sat in the back seat, sulking. The burns on her face and hands had mostly healed, though the more severe burns on her left arm and leg would take longer. For now, she'd been prescribed an ointment and an inhaler.

"Something the matter, miss?" Alfred glanced into the rear view mirror as he drove toward the Palisades.

Sara had been staring blankly out of the side window. "No, I'm fine."

"Well, you look like you're being carted off to prison."

She almost wished he wouldn't joke about such things. Not while she had so much on her mind. But truthfully, she wasn't exactly thrilled to be staying in Wayne Manor for the unforeseeable future. Something about seeing its owner on a daily basis gave her a headache.

"I assure you that the manor is rather lovely," Alfred said.

"If the rest of it is anything like what I saw, I'm sure it is." She forced a smile. How many people dreamed about staying in a place so grand? It was almost laughable that she preferred the familiarly of her apartment. Yet now all that was left of it was ash and rubble. And- oh. Her suit. It was in its usual lock box beneath her bed. The realization made her feel sick. If anyone found it...

"Miss?"

She looked up at the mirror, knowing he'd seen her sour expression. "Just a bit car sick," she said bleakly.

When they finally arrived at the manor, Alfred assisted her with stepping out of the car. "Master Wayne is in the city, though I believe he'll be back before dinner. I'll show you to your room so you can get settled in."

Sara followed him up the long walkway and into the foyer. Slowly, she climbed the stairs while clutching the railing. He led her down a hall to the last room on the right. "I hope you find it to your liking," the butler said as she stepped inside. The room was filled with exquisite antique furniture. A queen sized bed covered by an intricately designed quilt. A dresser and bureau made of genuine wood. Behind long red curtains was a sliding door leading to a balcony. It even had its own private bathroom.

"It's beautiful," she said as she ran her hand along the quilt. It must've been handmade.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted. If you need anything, please call." Alfred said, turning to leave. "Oh, and Ms. Carter..."

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Do try to make yourself at home," he said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Home wasn't a word she could ascribe to it. But she appreciated the gesture. "Thank you, Alfred." She mustered a smile.

After he left, Sara drew back the curtains further, flooding the room with light and warmth. The view wasn't unlike the rest of the place - incredible. On Gotham rooftops, she had felt on top of the world. Though the view of the city couldn't compare to the lush green just outside the window.

She slid the door and stepped out onto the balcony. Clean, fresh air. She took a deep breath and it was first time in a week that she could do so without coughing. It would do her some good. After basking in the sunlight, Sara returned to the room and looked around. Extra blankets were stacked on a shelf in the empty closet. In the bathroom were plenty of fresh towels and toiletries. It felt more like a hotel than someone's home, each part of it ornately decorated.

She spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on the balcony and lying on the bed, her thoughts back in the city. It'd been a week. Suppose her suit and watch was found, Bruce would've been the first to have her thrown in prison. Maybe it was destroyed with the rest of her belongings. She could only hope so.

A knock on the door brought her back to the manor. She got up and opened the door. It was Alfred.

"Dinner is ready, miss."

Surprised at how late it had already gotten, she nodded and followed him downstairs. He led her to an elegant dining room, where two places had been set beside each other at the table. One at the head, and the other to its right. Bruce had yet to arrive.

"Are you not joining us, Alfred?" Sara asked, hoping to be wrong.

The butler shook his head. "I've already eaten, but Master Wayne should be along shortly."

It seemed that Bruce was running late, as he showed up fifteen minutes later. "Sorry," he said as he hurried to the table, his hair wet from a rushed shower. "Got held up in traffic."

"Don't billionaires ride in helicopters or private jets or something?" She asked pointedly.

"Well, yes, but I don't think they're really practical for a daily commute," he responded bluntly.

Alfred entered the dining room from the kitchen with two covered dinner plates. They thanked him and quickly began to eat. It was quite possibly one of the best roast beef dinners Sara ever had, though she initially didn't feel much of an appetite.

"I hope your room is alright?" Bruce inquired awkwardly before taking another bite.

"It's perfect, thanks," she said briefly, not looking up from her plate.

He didn't press further and allowed her to finish the meal in peace, likely noticing her discomfort. It was all going to a take a lot of getting used to. For both of them.