Night Rider

1: Tragic Backstory

AN: Enjoy the story! Comment, vote, point out random grammar mistakes if you feel the need (auto correct can really mess things up from time to time), but please keep it positive and, most importantly, have fun reading! :)
...

I wasn't supposed to be here, standing in front of Wayne manor holding my bags. I wasn't supposed to be moving in with a billionaire. I wasn't supposed to be at the random charity of some guy I'd only ever seen in passing on the news.

I was supposed to be at home, with my family and my friends. If I could change the circumstances I would have in a heartbeat.

But that was not something I could do. Not now, maybe not ever.  As far as they knew I was dead.  And as much as it hurt, it was better that way. Better that they remembered me fondly and lived.

As if it had been my choice.

"Miss Walker?" The butler called softly as he stepped from the driver's side. Alfred, he had said his name was. At least as far as I could remember, the car ride had been a long painful trip through memories as we left behind everyone I had ever loved.

Standing here, taking in the massive gothic mansion, my grief threatened to choke me.

"Yes Alfred?" I managed.

He tried for a smile, "Master Wayne is waiting inside to meet you, I can take your bags to your room I've prepared."

I was quiet for a little bit, composing myself.
"Can we wait outside a little longer? It's just... A lot to take in."

"Of course Miss Walker."

We stayed outside for a good five minutes and I soaked up the dying rays of sun, praying this wasn't the last warmth I would ever truly feel. It hurt so much to say goodbye. I could feel it soaking my bones in chill, needed time to come to grips with it before I could speak with the owner of the mansion.

"Okay, I'm ready," I wasn't really, but delaying something never got rid of it. Life could suck, but I wasn't going to run from my problems.

Alfred put a hand on my shoulder, "Right this way, Miss Walker."

...

The inside of the manor was beautiful, to say the least, but it was hard to appreciate when my thoughts centered on such dark events of recent. I was quickly lost in the maze of rooms. Too many hallways, too many doors. Perhaps I would know them one day, but for now it was a gauntlet of strange.

Alfred directed us through pair of large double doors and I found myself standing within a massive library, spanning two stories. Gleaming wooden shelves held so many books that I felt a rush of excitement. It was stifled by my black mood, but at least I would have somewhere to escape in the coming days.

So captivated was I by the gorgeous land of knowledge that I didn't at first notice the man standing calming before one of the several overstuffed leather chairs.

I blinked uncomfortably. He was wearing a well fitted suit and an unperturbed expression, dark blue eyes steady and dark hair neatly in place. Something about him made the room seemed suddenly small, or maybe that was just me and my affinity for feeling awkward around people, I didn't know. Either way, it was an odd effect.

"Lyn Walker, it's a pleasure to meet you," Bruce Wayne crossed the room in a few powerful strides and extended a hand for me to shake.

"Um, yes, hello Mr. Wayne," I mumbled uncomfortably. What exactly was I supposed to say? Thanks for popping up unexpectedly after the incident? How did you know I even existed? Was there some ulterior motive for your generosity? None of them answered my questions adequately.

"I'm truly sorry for the circumstances surrounding your stay, but I hope you will be more comfortable in time," Bruce said calmly, "I myself won't be home as frequently as I would like, business permitting, and I would advise you not to leave the manor grounds for safety's sake. You understand why of course."

I nodded solemnly.

"Excellent. Alfred will show you to your rooms. I have some business to attend to at the moment, but I look forward to getting to know you better in the future." He nodded to the butler before leaving the library.

I sighed softly. At least I could be alone as I sifted through the new mess I was supposed to live in. Alfred murmured something and I followed him dutifully through the doors we had come. I marked every turn this time, making sure I could get back to that blessed room of books.

...

I sat on the bed with my knees hugged close to my chest. My rooms were too big, too upscale. I longed for the small ranch house I had grown up in. My soul wanted to go back where all of this was just a bad dream.

Tears started to roll silently down my face and I thanked the heavens that Alfred had left me alone once he guided me to my rooms. The solitude gnawed at my stomach as I cried, but the company of people I didn't know was the least comforting thing I could have experienced at the moment.

Eventually, small sobs escaped my lips and I curled up tighter into my knees, wishing I really was dead.
"Perhaps it would have been better if I really was gone..." I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

"-tt- Death is the coward's way out," someone said from the doorway.

My eyes flew to the door where I beheld a slender boy of about ten staring at me disdainfully.
"Who the hell are you?" I choked out.