The world around her was soft and sweet. The air within the vaulted room seemed almost thin and icy. It was comfortable, and yet almost crisp as she snuggled beneath her billowing blankets. Riley needed her late mornings, she needed the near midday eclipse of sunshine through the shades and the groan of an old fan that had been kept on for far too long. Her long black curls stuck to her throat and as she turned over away from the piercing light, she felt a sticky blandness in her throat. She craved to crawl from her oasis and brush her teeth, but the warmth and security of her little cocoon was too tempting.

She had decided to lay in bed for quite some time, drifting in and out of consciousness in what she had comically named her 'thinking' period. It was supposed to be the fifteen to twenty minutes she planned her day from the safety of her bed. In reality, it had become fifteen to twenty minutes stringing together useless thoughts as she fell back and forth between reality and dreams. It was a time of reflection, mostly revolving hating herself for staying up yet another hour editing her articles for her internship.

Riley Grayson Wayne, famously beautiful and delightful heiress to the Wayne Enterprise fortune, was about a hundred miles away from home in a cosy little city small enough to do well, but big enough to not get her name in the papers. When she moved here after college, she had known that she was leaving behind so much of a life in Gotham. She had a father and two new brothers that she had sworn to protect and love. She had friends and allies, and a life that would have her name written on it, should she ever desire it.

In some ways she was grateful, happy even, that so much of her home was available for her to come back to. Yet she knew when she pulled herself out of her drowsy fort of comforters, slipping on her obnoxiously bright childlike slippers, that she was making a life for herself away from the wonders of home. The blanket still tightly wrapped around her shoulders she made her way slowly and begrudgingly out of her bedroom and into the small adjoined bathroom. One of the conditions that came with leaving home, was leaving the luxury of heated floors and fresh made coffee waiting for her.

Her new home, however, was not too bad. She had a shower with enough room to turn around in a full circle, a toilet that flushed instead of making a strange gurgling sound, and floors that didn't chip away if someone wore something other than obnoxiously bright fuzzy slippers. Riley managed to make the money on her own, using what little savings she had made on her own with side projects in school. She invested in some ways, and in others, got by when she needed to. Her main goal was her job at the local publication office. Riley had fallen in love with reading other people's work. She wasn't much of a writer herself, but she had found a distinct love in judging other people's work.

This was the little life Riley had created, away from the madness she had left so desperately. She didn't like to think about Gotham, and perhaps, that was why so often she buried her nose into the different books at work. If Riley could run away into a world that was completely different than her own, she was safe from the pain and insanity that was waiting for her only a few miles away. She often got calls from her little brothers at her office, and sometimes if she was feeling incredibly sentimental, she would listen to their voicemails. More than often they were short, informative, and direct, and yet sometimes they dug her heart out. They would leave her tearing up and clutching the phone to her ear trying to absorb and savour every word.

Bruce had told Tim and Damian not to contact Riley. He didn't want them to "bother" her, or distract her from the hard work she was doing. Damian, perhaps, was young enough to fall for their father's lies. He didn't understand why Riley had left, and after nearly three years watching him, his surrogate mother didn't want to be around him. That wasn't the case, and it nearly killed her to hear his tiny voice whisper into the phone that he wanted her home. She knew that he had dragged the line into some closet and was trying to avoid Alfred or Bruce catching him. Tim, on the other hand, wasn't phased by Bruce's threats and would call even if the man was in the same room. He would update Riley on their lives, and often tell her what he was doing in school or Damian's day to day. Tim understood why Riley had left, and that was a kindness Riley couldn't muster words for.

Her father, however, never called. Instead, she got random emails or letters from him only from Wayne Enterprise facilities, and in some ways, she wondered if he was trying to keep her new home a secret from anyone who may find her. Riley wasn't in danger, at least to her knowledge, she had only left home to try and live a life she was sure to lose in that world. Riley wanted to be normal and breathe again. She couldn't have that in Gotham, but now she could try.

Returning back to her mission, Riley pulled her toothbrush from her counter in the bathroom and began to lather it in water and toothpaste. She set to work in cleaning her mouth out of the post-coma binge of sleep she had once or twice a week. As she did, she wandered from her bathroom into the small conjoining sitting room and kitchenette that was adjoined to the small bedroom and bath. She kicked off her slippers, falling into her cheap couch and spitting into an empty cup on the nearby table. It wasn't particularly elegant, but home was home. Lady like wasn't Riley's style anyhow.

As she pulled her blanket tighter, she yanked the remote out from under her pillows and flipped on the news. She tried to avoid anything too particular, and instead, settled on what looked eerily like a younger Martha Stewart and decided that learning about tampon ghosts three months past Halloween couldn't be too terrible of a way to spend her Sunday morning. The day dragged on, and for some time, she thought she had slipped back into her drowsy twilight. Her bright blues cracked open after some time and noticed an alert flickering across the bottom of her small television screen.

The usual routine in that event had been to religiously turn off the television, bury her nose into something, and not think about what was happening. There had been many threats that had slipped by involving her family that she had to pretend weren't happening to avoid the pull in her gut to run home. It wasn't Riley's job anymore to take care of Gotham, and if her family still wanted to, there was nothing she could do about it.

It seemed regardless of whatever she wanted to do, she stilled watched the scrolling text slip by in bolded letters as it read, "Batman and Robin seen chasing masked drug king across the tops of Gotham last night, gunshots confirmed but no reports on the status of Batman and the Boy Wonder." Riley's stomach lurched, her fingers clutching the remote as she sat it down beside her quickly clicking off the television. Her head fell back into the couch's tattered fabric and she couldn't help but let out a sigh of regret for not being quicker. Now would start the secondary ritual of fighting and struggling NOT to check on them.

It had been a silent agreement that when Riley left, she LEFT, there would be no Christmas or Birthday calls from her. She would let them move on and live a life on their own. Damian and Tim's calls only digging a deeper grave into her guilt as they didn't seem to give up. A year later and it didn't waver, they always called and she never answered. She wondered if they still hoped she would, and a part of her wished it wasn't so. She knew that it was safer, they would have less to worry about and Riley would truly be out of the life. No more worries and fear. Every phone call that rang wouldn't' send her into a panic attack.

She wanted to pretend she hadn't seen it, but she couldn't, and as she stared back at the black pixel screen she couldn't help but want to hear their voices again. They didn't have her cell number, not even Bruce had that, but they had her work number. Riley only assumed that they had gotten it from hacking into Bruce's system. It was him, after all, that had gotten her the job, Riley only finding out about that AFTER she had been there for several months. Her father had a way of protecting her, and she couldn't fault him. As she tampered with her thoughts she pulled out her phone to see the picture of herself and Damian snuggled in her bed. It was aching and beautiful, and it reminded her that she had a home.

Her ocean blues were watering, and she decided that blocking her number wouldn't get her anywhere. She lived close enough to home that a number with the area code wouldn't send up any red flags. As she punched in the number for the house, she held her breath hoping that her stomach wouldn't revolt in a hurricane of nerves. The phone rang, and slowly, she counted each of her breaths as the appending dial found a click. Someone picked up the phone, and for a moment, she couldn't feel anything but her hairs stand straight up on her body. A pause ensued, soon followed by a confused, but quiet, hello. The voice soothed every ache in her body as she melted back into the couch. Damian, she thought, my sweet boy.

Her tears finally broke in a moment of agony and joy, but she stifled her breath in an attempt not to give herself away. A longer pause echoed over the line and the small boy shuffled with the phone before a louder voice echoed over the passing line. "Who is this?" It quipped lightly but directly. Tim, she automatically connected before leaning forward to steady herself. The voice was older, and even though she had last heard his call only a month ago, she felt already so much had changed. Her lips parted, and for a second, she thought she would break every rule to speak to him. "Is anyone there?" He followed with, his' breathe slightly more agitated, as he moved to set the receiver on his shoulder.

Riley could tell he was trying to get out of Damian's eyesight, and she knew that was no easy process when the little monster was curious about something. "Look, I'm hanging up now," Tim finally rolled on before it sounded like he was pulled the phone away from his ear. "You sound tired," She finally whispered, and it was like a rubber band had snapped in her gut. Her green skin seemed almost flushed at relief and she could tell by the breath-stealing silence that Tim had caught her near silent retort. Now she could tell something was happening, his steps were quicker as a whine echoed through the other end, Tim shutting a door behind him separating him from his little brother.

"Riley?" Her little brother whispered softly, almost tenderly, and her eyes flickered shut in a breach of emotion. She felt a sob break her lips in the form of a laugh, a snotty and tired laugh, but it was such a relief to hear him she didn't care. "You scared me, I saw the news and I didn't know if you were okay," She responded lightly, almost returning back to a more civilised breath. He was silent for a moment, digesting her words before responding, "I'm fine, and so is Damian. I'm sorry we scared you." It was almost clinical, and she knew that it was Bruce's silent affirmations to the boys not to send Riley over the edge that was coming out.

"You don't have to baby me, Tim, I just wanted to hear your voices," Riley responded almost hollowly, her free hand digging into the loose strands of her blanket. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to call you, we've been really busy." He replied yet again, almost automatically. It was frustrating her, that she couldn't be there to show him she was fine. Riley was doing good, and she was the same girl that had gave him his first training class and stitches. However, she couldn't burden him more, knowing that the second Bruce found out it was her that breached their agreement, she WOULD hear about it.

"I appreciate your messages, they mean a lot to me," Riley said honestly, wanting him to understand that she was grateful for his kind actions. He was doing this because it was easier. It gave Riley the satisfaction that he and Damian were safe, but didn't force her to involve herself in things that could otherwise pull her back into a life she couldn't bare anymore. "Well I just want to keep you updated, you always use to make me bring home updates from school, so I didn't want to break tradition," He said, this time almost softer, more of him in the sarcastic but charming words. Riley laughed, a pure and honest laugh, and for a moment, she wished she could hug him tight.

"I'm so proud of you Tim, you're so amazing and kind, you're a great older brother to Damian and I'm so grateful Tati has you," Riley added earnestly, not wanting to waste a moment they had together. Tim was silent again, and then noises echoed again. This time she thought she heard banging, and she couldn't tell who was doing it. "He's home, I have to go," Tim whispered near silently. There was a tightness in his voice, almost pained to be losing her so soon. "I love you, Tim. I miss you. Please, please, be safe," She begged him softly, needing to hear him promise all over again. "I will be, I'll keep on eye on them, alright?" She laughed again, his tight voice laughing again before the line quickly went dead behind her.

The phone dropped from her shoulder and she stared once more back at the television screen, glad that for a moment, she had taken the time to do something stupid but worth it. Her hands once again found the remote, and slowly, she clicked back to life the box. The familiar shriek of knock-off Martha Stewart echoed back on the screen, this time talking about tissue paper flowers, and she knew that her day was a little better.

Riley continued her binge watching, snuggling into her warm blankets for several more hours until the night dragged back into the sky. Her eyes tired once again, she wondered if she had wasted an entire weekend, or if the delightful knowledge she had now acquired about DIY crafts, was worth the headache building in her temples. Either way, she was satisfied, glad to know that for a few minutes, she was given a peace of mind.

After the last episode stretched out, and the usual late night infomercials began to play, she dragged herself back up from the couch and headed her way into the bedroom once more. Hopefully, tomorrow at work would be a bit more exciting, and she would find a way to take her mind off the gruelling desire to pack her bags and run back to her family. She pulled the tight blanket off her as she came to stand by her bed. As she threw it over the mattress, she tucked the corners into the edge of the bed to make sure she would be sealed tightly in.

Once she was sure her bed was made, she pulled her hair tie from her wrist as she complied her messy locks atop her head. As the last raven spiral twisted into the elastic, she didn't notice the change in atmosphere. In near silent room even more silent than usual, and moving to slip off her slippers, she felt a rush of air behind her. Two large arms locked around her and within a moment her adrenaline spiked. She thrashed and screamed, trying to sling her way out of the intruders grasps in hopes of getting her hands on them.

Riley had been out of action for awhile and had a couple more pizza's than Bruce would have allowed the boys. However she wasn't weak, and she put up a fight. Her nails dug into her attacker's wrists and she heard a hiss behind her, the person shoving her down into her bedding. Riley scuffled and grabbed at the comforter trying to pull herself over it. The attacker, however, was quickly grabbing her ankle and dragging her back, covering her mouth with one hand and twisting her down into the bedding whilst gathering her wrists into his hand.

It didn't matter how much she kicked and fought, after what felt like an eternity, she heard a tiny 'tink' of plastic against her wooden floors and with a gasp of breath felt a sharp prick into her throat. Her kicking and screaming waned and strained into a gurgling sound. The intruder's hands slipping around her waist until they could pull her back against their chest. Her head lulling to the side she felt a hot breath on her ear as she fell in between worlds once again. She choked on her own cries, her throat burning as whatever spread through her quickly caused her stance to crumple into the others.

As she blacked out, she felt her legs being swept up into the arms of the assailant, her head falling into the chest of the brute unable to do anything but scream internally at her attacker. Oh Tim, if only you had warned me. If only she had known, maybe she would have run home in a moment.