Burns
By immertreu
August 17, 2011
I knew I wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer, but I had to do this. Now.
"Alfred." My voice was no more than a whisper, but he heard me. He was never far away.
"Yes, Master Bruce?"
How many times had I received the same reply? Always so calm, so collected, but full of warmth and faith and trust.
"You need…to promise me something." Everything hurt, but I couldn't give in. Not yet.
"You don't need to ask me for anything, sir. You know I will do whatever is necessary."
He would. But he didn't know that what I was about to ask of him would break his heart.
I took a breath and tried to fight the pain in my chest. Don't cough, Bruce, it'll kill you.
I spoke again. "I have to ask nonetheless."
Alfred stood over me, his expression worried. It had been a close call tonight. Too close.
"If I ever fail…if I fall, or if the authorities catch me…" Alfred knew what was coming. I could see it in his eyes. Just that bit too bright. "I need you to destroy every bit of evidence there is."
Silence.
"Everything! Do you understand?"
He understood all too well. He knew where I had placed the charges in the cave and in the manor. He knew my passwords, my hiding places, my secrets. He knew he would have to get out of the country and leave only a pile of rubble behind. Gordon would let him go. But his final act in my name would not only hide the final truths and destroy the Wayne dynasty once and for all – it would destroy him, too.
Did I even have the right to ask it of him? But there was no one else to burden with this. Only him.
I knew he had thought about this often, sitting alone in the dark, waiting to hear if one of my enemies had finally succeeded. I had always come home, but one day I wouldn't. We both knew my chances of ever reaching old age were slim. Not with the life I was leading. But I had no choice.
He didn't say anything, just took the cloth from my forehead and replaced it with a new one he'd soaked in cold water. The urge to close my burning eyes was overwhelming. Almost.
"Alfred!" The shout seared my damaged lungs, but my eyes bore into his. Searching, asking…begging. I could see his pain, as searing as my blistered skin, but I couldn't waver.
"Yes, Master Bruce."
That was all I needed. I finally welcomed the darkness so he could work on my ravaged body.
He would do good. Now. Always.
A/N: I guess this ficlet would be true to the comics as well. I was reading "The Dark Knight Returns" last night when this idea popped into my head. Hopefully this means my muse is willing to rescue Batman from that roof he's been stuck on for the past few months, lol.