Soooo, my first own story, I finally managed! :-D I hope you're gonna like it. But first things first:
1. Disclaimer - I don't own any of this.
2. English is not my mothertongue so please don't judge too hard. I know I didn't quite get Alfred's way of talking right, I knew it from the beginning, but I really wanted to write this story from his POV so I just decided to do it anyways. If it bothers you too much... I'm sorry, I did my best. Just skip the story and read something better. And before someone suggests a Beta: There would probably be so much to correct, it wouldn't be my writing anymore, afterwards. Furtherone: If you find major mistakes, PM about them - I won't be mad at you but thankful. I can't get better if no one corrects me. 3. I'm not entirely happy with the style of this first chapter. So if you're neither, please keep reading at least until the second one, it gets better there, I think.
4. Have a lot of fun reading :-)
Sometimes, the old butler wondered what it looked like, in the other man's head. It had to be dark in there. Darker than in other's. And he wondered how the man could stand it, all the anger and the righteousness. How he managed to not just break down someday and never get up again. He didn't seem to ever enjoy his life. He only pretended to, on all those parties and galas, with some young woman at his side. When he appeared to be someone he never was and never would be. Some rich playboy without a care in the world who somehow managed to run the biggest company on the whole east coast. Bruce Wayne. But for real, he was Batman, the Dark Knight. The one who browsed Gotham at night and ensured as much peace as this city was ever going to get.
But to Alfred, it had always been Master Bruce, since he first got to know him, when the younger one was just a four year old boy. So much had changed since then, more than anyone could ever have anticipated. And so much more was still bound to happen.
It was an evening like many others. Master Bruce was upstairs in his bedroom, getting dressed for tonight's event and Alfred waited in the entrance hall to check on his master before he left. A traveling circus resided in the city and the famous Bruce Wayne had to make an appearance. Usually, his employer hated these events, but not the circus. There, he didn't need to talk to anyone and in addition he could try to learn something useful from the acrobats tricks. Especially the trapeze artists intrigued him for what they did resembled his own stunts so much. More than once he had come home after a visit there only to head directly for the gym and try out something he had just seen.
For tonight, the bills announced the „Flying Graysons", a family of three who were the admitted best trapeze artists in the world. Accordingly Master Bruce was hopeful to gain something other from the evening than just the headache, all the other rich people usually gave him.
When he came down the stairs, he had a light smile on his face. Nothing you saw often on him. Alfred brushed his employer's tux one last time, making sure he looked decent and helped him into his coat.
„I wish you an enjoyable evening, Master Bruce."
„Thank you, Alfred! Don't wait for me, maybe it's going to be late." He knew, the butler always stayed up when Bruce attended some social event, but he told him not to every time anyways.
Alfred turned around and opened the majestic front door, looking after Master Bruce when he left the building and walked over to where one of his cars was already waiting for him.
It was three hours later that Alfred heard a car pull up the driveway. He got up from the armchair he had been sitting in and moved to the entrance hall once again. When he opened the door, he expected to find Master Bruce in a relatively good mood.
„Good evening, sir. Did the performance meet your expectations?"
„Only partly", his employer answered, a hard expression on his face. He seemed to strain himself not to show any emotion and with any other person it probably would have worked, but Alfred knew him too well. He could tell when something was the matter with Master Bruce and right now, he was upset. But the butler didn't say anything, if the younger man wanted to talk, he would do so on his own.
Master Bruce took off his coat, gave it to the butler and stormed off to his study. At this time of night, it could only mean he was headed for the Batcave. Although Alfred couldn't explain why. Normally, Master Bruce didn't go on patrol after social events unless there was an ongoing crisis or a sudden emergency. And of both he would have told his butler.
In slight worry, Alfred went after him. But when he reached the grandfather clock hiding the entrance to the cave and got down there, the man was already gone.
The butler didn't even try to get to bed, he knew he wouldn't be able to go to sleep until the Batman was home again, hopefully unharmed. Alfred went up to his room, always listening if something came over the speaker system which connected the whole manor with the cave beneath it. But nothing happened.
Usually, Alfred managed to push aside all thoughts of what could possibly happen to the man he had practically adopted after Dr. and Mrs. Waynes death. The man he had raised and who he saw as his ward. But tonight, his mind refused to rest and came up with one horrible scenario after another. Maybe it was, because Master Bruce had seemed so upset. Normally, he was in full control of himself and you could trust him to be absolutely concentrated at all times. That made it easier not to worry too much. But if he was in a state like the one tonight… Alfred just couldn't be sure that his employer wouldn't get himself killed only because he lacked the constant attention necessary to fight criminals.
After a few hours of restlessly walking up and down in his quarters, he gave up and decided to prepare breakfast for when Master Bruce got back. After finishing the toast and egg he went to get the newspapers. When he took a look at the front page, everything became clear to him. Suddenly, he understood why Master Bruce had acted the way he had, last night. The headline said: "The Graysons last flight" and beneath it: "Circus kid has to watch his parents die". So this was what had happened last night. No wonder, his employer had been so upset. He hadn't only seen people fall to their deaths – he was used to sudden violence after all – but he got reminded of his own past. He had been only a child when he witnessed his parents get shot and he never fully got over that trauma. So in addition to the brutal reminder he probably had felt compassion for the child, who, according to the article, had been part of the fatal circus act and was only inches away, when the trapeze rope tore and his mother and father fell eight meters straight onto the hard floor. The article read further that police investigations were under way but no one expected it to be foul play.
While walking back to the kitchen, newspapers in hand, Alfred debated whether to confront Master Bruce about all this or not as soon as the man got back home. Right when he had decided to speak about it, he encountered the object of his thoughts in the hallway. Apparently, he had returned mere minutes ago.
The muscular man wore a shirt which left his arms bare and a nasty cut could be seen above his left elbow. Further on, his left wrist seemed to be sprained. So the butler's worries hadn't been unfounded, things had gone wrong on this night's patrol.
„Master Bruce!", the worry in his voice was clearly audible. „What happened?" He knew, the injury wasn't severe enough to justify his seriousness, but the circumstances changed his view on the situation.
„Nothing", came the gruff answer. The butler would have liked to keep asking but it wouldn't have done any good. If Master Bruce didn't want to talk, nothing could make him. Not even Alfred, although he had more influence on the man than anyone else had ever had, except only his parents.
„Well then. Breakfast is ready, if you may follow me."
Neither said a word while walking back to the kitchen. The younger man seemed lost in thought and barely reacted to Alfred pulling a chair out for him. Bruce sat down at one end of the table and the butler placed the newspaper beside his plate, trying to provoke the man to talk about what had happened last night. It didn't work.
When Alfred served the toast, his employer didn't even look up. He had his head buried in the „Gotham Gazette", reading the article about the Graysons deaths. At one point he made a small, disapproving noise.
„Don't you agree with the news, sir?" Alfred made one last attempt to get the other man talking. When he earned nothing but an indistinct grunt, he decided to finally give it a rest and just wait. He put the rest of the prepared food on the table and left the kitchen. He could tell when Master Bruce wanted to be left alone and he respected that wish.
Alfred didn't see much of his employer that day and the following week. In fact, he saw a lot less of him than usual which meant quite something, considering Bruce Wayne regularly being at his company during day hours and protecting Gotham as Batman at night. But now, he kept to himself even when at home and hardly talked when they met in the hallways or at mealtimes. Something seemed to be on the man's mind, something serious, and Alfred couldn't stop worrying about what it was. Anything that made Bruce Wayne even more brooding than normal had to be bad.
After four days of silence, the old butler had enough. In the evening, just before Master Bruce left for the cave, he walked up on him, determined to finally make him talk.
„Sir." The younger man looked up from his desk at which he had been staring. „I was bound to notice the change in you behaviour lately. Is something the matter?" Sometimes, his British politeness just didn't work anymore, so he had to use more drastic measures although he didn't like being this direct. Far too inelegant for his taste.
„No, nothing." Such a short answer again. He was getting angry and it showed. His eyebrows narrowed the tiniest bit.
„Master Bruce, I'm sure whatever happened isn't as bad as it may seem to you at the moment. Perhaps I'm able to help if you just tell me…"
„Alfred!" The interruption was made in such a harsh tone, the old butler almost flinched. Only years of training enabled him to stay expressionless. Hardly ever before had his employer used an actually threatening voice on him. „I am fine and I hereby ask you to stop fussing over me. If you could leave me now. Please." The last word came after a short pause and sounded less angry. Almost pleading. Which made Alfred worry even more, but what choice did he have?
Wordless, he bowed his head slightly, turned and left the room. He could hear a movement, followed by the sound of a head being laid into hands. He could practically see the exhausted gesture his ward made. He wanted to be there for the man. It was not just his job, but his duty, his life task. Had been for so many years now. Not knowing what bothered Master Bruce and thereby not being able to help him made him feel useless. And there was nothing worse for a butler.
The days passed and his employer kept being to himself. But he changed from sitting in his study all the time to walking the halls, every now and then opening a door and peeking into one of the unused rooms. It got even more peculiar, when he started making a lot of phonecalls. All behind closed doors and about four times as many as normal. Usually, he tried finishing this part of his job at the office downtown. Even Alfred, who didn't think of himself as an inquisitive person, had growing difficulties not to keep asking curious questions.
When it had become almost impossible for him not to press on Master Bruce again to tell him what was going on, he accidentally found out. He really wasn't spying, he tried to justify before himself, it just happened. It was eight days after the night at the circus, a Monday afternoon, when he cleaned his employer's desk. There were, of course, a lot of papers lying around. He was used to them and skilfully cleaned without mixing them up, when something caught his eye. Instead of the usual diagrams and endless contracts there was a multi-sided document titled „Application for Guardianship" on top of everything else.
Application for Guardianship. From anything he had expected to be the explanation for Master Bruce's lately changed manners, this was something he would never have thought of. He wanted to take in that orphaned boy from the circus? Had he even thought about what this meant? He didn't know a thing about how to raise a child, to begin with, and in addition he would drag the boy into the frenzy of the media. He'd set him under constant attack of crazy journalists, something no one should have to endure, least of all a traumatised child which had just lost it's parents. And this was only the tip of the iceberg. How did he plan to keep his secret identity hidden from someone he lived with? The boy was bound to notice something! After all, Batman went missing for hours, even days at a time, not to mention the various, inexplicable injuries he came home with every other week.
Alfred usually tried not to interfere with his employer's life but this time he felt it to be his responsibility. He had to protect both the man and the boy from a mistake which could very well turn out disastrous. When the younger man came back from work tonight, he'd try to talk him out of this before further harm could be done.
His mind kept circling around the whole affair while he continued cleaning the rest of the room. It wouldn't be easy to find a way of approaching the topic without immediately ruining his chances of making a point. The butler was so lost in thought, he jerked up in surprise when he suddenly heard his name.
„Alfred." He hadn't noticed Master Bruce coming home and entering the study. Something really unusual. He turned away from the shelf he was dusting and faced the man in the doorframe. He looked weary and cautious, somehow actually torn. The butler could imagine what was coming next. At least, he didn't have to mention it first. The question remaining was if he was going to admit he had seen the papers or not.
„I need to talk to you, if you don't mind." The younger one's voice sounded exhausted and insecure. Nothing you heard often from the Dark Knight.
„Of course not, Master Bruce." His opposite walked across the room and sat down on the chair behind his desk. His eyes fell on the papers on top.
„You have already seen them, haven't you?" Somehow, Alfred was relieved he didn't need to decide whether to admit it by himself or not.
„Not on purpose. Please forgive my intrusion." Master Bruce made a dismissive gesture.
„It doesn't matter. I wanted to tell you anyway. Actually, I was trying to find a way to address it, but I couldn't think of one that didn't make me sound completely insane."
„If you may allow me the straightforwardness, sir, I don't think this is a good idea." The man in front of him looked up.
„I knew you'd say this, therefore I hesitated so long before finally telling you. This is not a decision, I can make on my own since it will influence your life just as much. But I've thought it through, over and over again and by now, I'm as sure as one can ever get in these matters." Alfred still couldn't see what good it would do, but he would hear his ward out, of course.
„You see, I've met the boy." This surprised the old butler. He had figured that Master Bruce was touched by the similarity of their history, but not, that he had had actual contact with the child.
„Before that show started, the ringmaster introduced me to the Grayson family. As a VIP guest he figured I needed a special treatment, I guess. So I got the chance of meeting John and Mary Grayson, along with their son Richard. He was very energetic although still polite and he seemed to be very bright. I got really curious on what he was capable of on the trapeze, when he, instead of just going away with his parents, did a backflip onto his hands and walked on them rather than using his feet." The man smiled at the memory.
„When the show started, I was amazed. Not only the adults were world class acrobats, their son was, too. They did things I wouldn't have deemed possible and I tried to learn from them as much as I could. Then suddenly, something went wrong. I noticed immediately but I couldn't name what it was. The static of the trapeze seemed to have changed. And then Mary Grayson screamed. She was in the air with her husband, reaching out for her son to get him flying, too, when all of a sudden the rope tore. The woman managed to draw back her hands in time, so the boy couldn't grip them and stayed on the platform. But he had to watch his parents fall to their deaths. It was a horrible sight accompanied by an awful sound, I don't want to imagine, what that boy went through in these few seconds. And probably still does." Master Bruce's eyes had lost focus, he seemed to be staring into nothingness, while he recounted that night's events.
„After that, when all spectators had been sent home and the police arrived, I overheard them talking about Richard. Apparently, he couldn't stay with the circus due to some insurance regulations. So he would have had to go to an orphanage or foster home, but neither had capacities. In the end, they decided on sending him to the juvenile service system. An eight year old boy, who had lost his parents only an hour ago!" The outrage was coming in waves from his ward. And Alfred could share it. This city's social service system needed improvement, that was for sure. „I couldn't get the boy out of my mind since then. And I'm sorry, I didn't talk to you about this earlier, I just wanted to be sure first."
Now the man looked at his butler directly, a plea for understanding in his eyes. „I want to take the boy in, I want to help him. I can imagine how he feels and I don't want him to be alone with that in some uncaring shelter. I want to give him a home."
Alfred was momentarily stunned at this sudden outburst of emotion. He wasn't used to the other man being so afflicted. He normally kept all his feelings to himself. This was … unexpected. When he got his speech back, he carefully tried to impress some of his worries on his employer.
„Master Bruce, I'm afraid this will prove to be quite difficult. For one, and please forgive my boldness, you don't have much experience with children, so maybe more harm will be done than prevented with the boy. And besides, you are the Batman, if I may say so. How will you be able to keep that a secret?" Something dawned on him. „You don't plan on telling him, do you?"
Master Bruce shook his head. „No, I don't. And I'm not quite sure about how to keep it from him but I think it is possible. Somehow. About me not being an experienced parent… Well, I am not, but you surely are." For the fourth time this evening, the old butler was caught off guard.
„I am, sir?" Master Bruce smiled at him.
„Of course, you are! You raised me and I was no easy going child, as you remind me quite frequently. And to be honest, I was hoping for your help in all this. I won't be able to manage it alone."
Alfred felt like he should be thinking hard about this, taking all arguments into account, but his mind went blank. He felt like he was stuck between the options and didn't know how to go back or forth. A child at Wayne Manor again. He had thought there'd never be another one, with the only living member of the Wayne family being constantly alone and caught up in his fight against evil. The idea was intriguing, indeed. And it would probably do Master Bruce some good to have someone to relate to, to care for even. There would be the need for him to constantly socialise, which definitely was something desirable. But this didn't erase the problem of the secret identity. Was it possible to keep the boy from knowing? Maybe, if they were careful. And really lucky. But Master Bruce seemed to be very sure, determined even. And normally, he made the right decisions. So…
„Well then, sir, I believe it is decided. When are you going to hand this application in?"
You made it through the first chapter, congratulations! If you liked it, I'd be thrilled to hear about it in a review. If you didn't, tell me anyways. And if you're too lazy to write... That's alright, too. I do understand that because I'm exactly the same most of the time ;-)