Disclaimer: All the characters are Owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.
Ready or Not?
By
Peggie
The arguments had been going on for days. Bruce had been so sure that Alfred would understand. Alfred had always understood and supported Bruce. Of course it was risky and that he was sure was the reason the older man was against the venture. Bruce knew the old man, who had raised him since the fateful day thirteen years ago, loved him. Bruce cared for the old man, so why could he not understand that Bruce had to do this.
The arguments got more and more bitter with Alfred even forbidding the young man from leaving the house; he even lock the door. That proved to be too much for Bruce to tolerate and the war of words became more heated.
"I am not a child any more!" Bruce shouted.
"Then stop acting like one Master Bruce." Alfred replied.
"Who the hell do you think your talking to, it not your place to forbid me doing anything. Let's get this straight, you're the Hired Help, my butler, nothing else. My father hired you and I can fire you!"
The young man stopped seeing the flash of pain that shot through the older mans face. Pain that was only visible for a second, before being replaced by the usual mask of a proper English butler that Alfred always wore.
Bruce instantly wanted to withdraw the comments. He knew they were a long way from the truth. Alfred was his friend, advisor and protector. In fact he was the nearest thing Bruce had to a father since the death of his parents. Bruce hated the fact that he had hurt Alfred deeply with his words. He knew that his comments could not be wiped away with a simple apology.
"Yes Sir," the butler replied. "But even the Hired Help has the right to an opinion and I don't think you've thought this through."
"I've thought of nothing else for ten years and tonight I am ready, now give me the key."
The older man withdrew the key from his waistcoat pocket and unlocked the door, but remained standing in front of it. "Your father; Dr Wayne, would never condone this."
"Move aside Alfred" Bruce warned his temper inflamed at the mention of his father's possible objection to his actions. When the older man shook his head Bruce clenched his fist and in a fit of temper struck the older man, he saw Alfred fall to the floor.
He stood looking down at Alfred in disbelief, unable to accept what he had done. Then the anger he felt at his behaviour forced him to run from the house determined to prove himself right.
He ran to the garage and dived into his new car. Alfred had been working on disguising it so that the police would be unable to trace it. Thinking of the older man made him replay the comment that had passed his lip "You're just the Hired Help." God, how was he ever going to make it right between Alfred and himself.
Tonight must be a success. He had to show the older man he was right to follow this course of action. Then he could try to make amends.
Alfred picked himself up off the floor and dusted down his jacket. He was worried, not about what the young man had said although the words had cut into his heart. He may not be the boy's real family but he had done his best to be good substitute. Nor did the blow worry him he knew that had been result of the boy's frustration; it was more the look in the young mans eyes as he pleaded his case that was causing him concern.
Alfred had seen the driven look before in the eyes of other young men convinced that their actions were the right ones. As a field operative for the British Secret Service he had worked with young men who had the same insane belief in themselves and he had witnessed too many of those young men die.
He himself had been a first class agent, one of the best, but all the deaths and the need to kill in the line of duty had finally sicken him. But not before he had witnessed the same driven look in his own face after completing one successful yet difficult assignment. Yes the man he had eliminated was an enemy agent, who had murdered several of Alfred's colleagues and it had been his life or Alfred's. The problem was Alfred had enjoyed the task. Realising that had shocked him to the core and he knew if he was to maintain his humanity he had to leave the service. He had resigned straight away, and with the blessing of his superior's left to take up a position as butler to Thomas Wayne in America, as far away from his old life as possible.
After the death of the Waynes he had taken on the care of their son and despite what the young man had just said to him, he loved and cherished the lad as if he was his own flesh and blood. Now the object of his affections was out there in danger and in need of support.
Alfred pulled a small tracking device from his breast pocket and smiled as the reassuring beep sounded. He had spent the previous night sowing the transmitter into Master Bruce's bullet-proof vest. Alfred headed for the garage and got into the Jaguar to follow the tracker signal.
Bruce had prepared a disguise, a thick combat jacket, scarf and ski mask. He had a bullet-proof vest to wear under the jacket with that and the extra padding he was using he was ready to tackle anything. He pulled the car up outside the abandoned theatre in 'Crime Alley' and opened the trunk; he quickly slipped on his disguise, instantly feeling protected. Tonight he was not going to be a victim; tonight the criminals would not rule the streets.
Alfred followed the tracker signal with growing unease. They were moving closer and closer to 'Crime Alley' a place where robbery usually was the prelude to murder. A place where a bullet in the head was the normal way of ensuring that people complied. Why had the young master decided to start his vigilante career there! Alfred pushed the Jaguar to its limits.
In the first thirty minutes Bruce's confidence was boosted by his success in breaking up two attempted muggings. The first just required his presence to send the young thug running away. The second was settled after brief fight and a swift kick to one thug's chest, the knife one man had been carrying had clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Alfred quickly made up the ground on Bruce and watched with a mixture of admiration for the young man fighting skills and worry about his lack of street craft. Alfred knew too well what could happen to fools who rushed into situations they had not taken time to assess properly.
A scream from the Alleyway off to Bruce's left had him running fast toward the dark and dank passage. Alfred quickly followed disturbed by the young mans lack consideration for possible danger ahead. Bruce saw two shadows standing over a prone figure and ran full pelt into the two men sending one sprawling to floor several feet away. The other produced a large knife and a violent struggle ensued.
Alfred circled slowly around the scene. Using the shadows to enable him to get within striking distance of the floored thug without being observed. He quickly disabled the second man with a swift Karate chop to the neck as he tried to scramble to his feet to rejoin the fight.
The victim of the assault got to his feet and fled. Bruce found himself matched against a worthy opponent who traded blow for blow. Suddenly another figure jumped down from a fire escape above. His feet connecting with Bruce's back. Bruce went down his head making a loud crack as it hit the ground. The new assailant suddenly gained his feet and produces a gun pointing at the Bruce's head. Looking down at Bruce Wayne he smiled as the young man tried to focus his eyes, "Say good night punk" the gunman smirked.
Alfred yelled as he launched himself at the gunman; he hit him at chest height bowling him back across the Alley. As they slammed into the wall the gun went off with a resounding crack. Both thugs ran from the scene.
Bruce watched in dazed amazement as his mysterious benefactor slammed into the gunman. He heard the gunfire and with that the blackness enveloped him.
Suddenly there was in a sea of lights flickering above him. He could also hear voices at first indistinct. Gradually he recognised them; one was Alfred's the other belonged to Dr Leslie.
Leslie had found Bruce kneeling next to his dead parents on that night thirteen years before and taken him home to Alfred. Since that night she had taken a keen interest in his up bringing. She and Alfred had become surrogate parents; if Alfred was the nearest thing he had to a father figure then Leslie was like a mother and as such worried about him. He knew she had been dead against his vigilante idea. When she had visited the manor to have a welcome back supper with Alfred and himself, to celebrate his return from Japan Bruce had told them both of his plans. Alfred had been forced to play the role of peacemaker to try and defuse the arguments before they got out of control. All he had got for his trouble was being accused of supporting a lunatic venture.
He could hear Leslie again blaming Alfred for the state Bruce was in.
"Why the hell didn't you stop him" demanded Leslie.
"I tried" pleaded Alfred."
"Of course you did Alfred" Leslie replied sceptically. " Don't give me that you've just been encouraging him, like you've always done with anything he wanted to do. Just get out of my sight I don't want to see you again."
With that Leslie stormed into the cubical that Bruce had just been wheeled into.
He started to sit up on the Gurney, and realised he was in the charity clinic set up by his father. He felt sick and dizzy but at least he was alive. He tried to focus on what had happened in the Alley but his brain refused to co-operate.
"You should be laid down young man, I need to find out where all this blood has come from." Leslie said.
"Don't be too hard on Alfred," Bruce said as he laid back "He's had a rough day. He did try to stop me all he got for his trouble was sacked and I..." Bruce swallowed a lump in his throat "..I hit him!"
Leslie looked back at Bruce shocked. " Well it looks like I owe Alfred an apology, but right now you come first."
Leslie examined him and look up puzzled, "Apart from the lump on the head and some bruising there's not a wound on you. So whose blood is this?"
Suddenly Bruce saw the events in the Alley, a gun pointed at his head, a man flying at the gunman, the flash of a shot and the crack of gun fire than the man falling and the thugs running off. Later he felt himself being examined then being dragged to his feet and led out of the Alley. He had been pushed into a car. After that everything was a blank. "It must be the other guys, stammered Bruce the one who got shot, he saved my life. Did they bring him in here with me or did they take him to the General?"
Leslie looked puzzled, "Your confused dear she said gently, Alfred brought you here in the Jaguar. I know because I helped them lift you out. It'll take Alfred hours to clean all that blood off the front seats. Suddenly Leslie stopped and considered what she had just said. They had lifted Bruce from the back of the car so how had so much blood ended up in the front. Suddenly she heard her assistant Maggie urgently calling her name. Leslie went out to find Maggie and Dr Sam Pope kneeling next to a prone Alfred trying to stem what appeared to be a massive haemorrhage.
Bruce staggered after Leslie and stopped short at the sight of the old man receiving CPR while Leslie struggled to attached IV lines into both arms. "Maggie ring the General tell them we need an ambulance ASAP, then get Mark Bradley for me."
"Bruce darling" Leslie said quietly "come here, I need you to keep the pressure on this dressing"
Bruce knelt next to Alfred pressing firmly on the gauze pad covering the older mans chest. He could feel his friend's warm blood pulsing out between his fingers as Leslie and Dr Pope worked on him. God this wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't be happening, he couldn't lose Alfred to a bullet. If he died it would be Bruce's fault. Alfred had told him not to go. How had Alfred ended up in the Alley? It was like a nightmare. Bruce just could not believe what was happening, any minute now he would wake up screaming and Alfred would come in to his room with a glass of milk and offer comfort; just like he always did.
Leslie was talking urgently in to the phone held to her ear by the nurse. "Yes a massive arterial bleed, gunshot wound. Yes My Alfred! He and Bruce were coming here and there was some sort of mugging.... We've transfused 4 of O but he's bleeding out as fast as we replace it .....I know. I can hear the ambulance now. We will be with you in less then five.. Thanks Mark!".
The ambulance ride was a five-minute nightmare of flashing lights and loud wailing of sirens. Leslie struggled to maintain Alfred life every second of the journey attaching new IV bags at an alarming rate. At one point Bruce thought they had lost him as Leslie started CPR "Dam it, fight man, ...don't you dare die on me, ......breath will you..!" Leslie shouted into Alfred's face and was rewarded by Alfred taking a loud, laboured, shuddering breath. She lent forward and planted a kiss on his forehead. "That's what a love about you," she whispered "you always know when to do what I want." Arriving at the hospital Alfred was whisked up to the O.R. with Leslie and Bruce jogging along behind, Leslie giving detail of Alfred's condition to Mark Bradley. Another man came hurrying along to join them, Bruce recognised him as Carl Welmak a world-renowned heart surgeon. The green double doors swung shut and they were left outside to wait.
Bruce lifted pained eyes towards Leslie's hoping to see her usual reassuring smile, however what he saw was a reflection of his own fear. Tears ran down her cheeks, worst of all she looked so helpless. He led her to a couch and together they sat and stared at the double doors. Soon, too soon, they burst open and Mark Bradley started to walk towards them gloves and gown bloodied. Leslie stood up and moaned "O; Ho No!" Bradley held up a hand.
"Leslie it's OK he's still hanging in there! I just wanted to explain to you what we found. The bullet nicked the main artery and is lodged next to the heart. It's going to be a long job."
Bruce listened in disbelief. This could not be happening, only three hours ago he and Alfred had been sat together having tea. Less than two hours ago he had struck the old man, Bruce felt sick, he wanted to run away. He felt Leslie's arm slide around his shoulders.
Bradley was still talking. " He's got three things in his favour, he's got one of the worlds leading surgeons working on him, he's a relatively fit man, and he's got two people who love him. As you know wanting to be with loved ones is often the thing that pulls people through."
As Bradley returned to the O.R. Bruce collapsed back on to the couch. "Some loved ones we turned out to be. I tell him he's just the hired help and hit him; you tell him you never want to see him again. Yeah that's some reason to live." Bruce slammed his fist into the wall.
Leslie slumped down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Of course Alfred knows we love him Bruce" she whispered "And he loves us. He couldn't love you more if you were his own son. And... remember we both owe him an apology he wouldn't let us off with that now, would he?" She smiled weakly at him then her tears began to fall again.
The surgery lasted four long hours. After which Alfred was moved into Critical Care. Leslie spoke to a serious faced Dr Welmak, Bruce saw her nod her head several times. They were allowed to visit, but only for five minutes. Despite Leslie's explanation about the need for Alfred to be on a ventilator to help reduce the strain on his heart Bruce still felt shocked at the sight of his oldest and dearest friend dependant upon the machine to live.
Leslie guided Bruce over to the bed. She lent forward and brushed Alfred's thinning hair off his forehead; she kissed him lingeringly on the brow.
"Hello my love." she whispered taking hold of his unresponsive hand. "You gave us quite a scare, but I've spoken to the Doctors and they are sure you are going to be OK. With rest you should be out of here in no time. I've brought a Bruce to see you. He's got something he wants to tell you."
Leslie reluctantly let go of Alfred's hand and stepped back guiding Bruce to the side of the bed. She felt the young man tremble, as she saw him take Alfred's hand and heard him choke back a sob. "I am sorry about today," he sobbed " You have never been just the Hired Help, you are my Best Friend and I love you Alfred" he said his voice only just above a whisper, "I love you with all my heart." The young man stated crying. Leslie turned and pulled his head on to her shoulder. Just then she heard a gasp from Bruce who spun around to look at Alfred. His eyes were still closed, but his hand was clasped around Bruce's, the grip was weak but it had been a positive response to his words.
Bruce insisted on staying at the hospital, he couldn't face returning to an empty mansion. Leslie wanted him to go with her to her apartment above the clinic, arguing that the hospital could call them and it was only minutes away. Bruce refused to leave he could not bear to be too far away from Alfred. If there was any change he wanted to be there.
It was mid morning before they let him back into the older mans room. Dr Welmak was satisfied enough with Alfred's progress to remove him from the ventilator, yet insisted on fairly heavy sedation to ensure Alfred did not put too much strain on his heart before it had healed properly.
Alfred's eyes were closed but he was speaking, his voice was weak hardly audible Bruce sat close to him to hear what he said. "You are still determined to do this aren't you?"
Bruce was sitting up close to the head of the bed his hand resting on Alfred's arm. He nodded then realising the Alfred could not see him choked out a "Yes".
"That being the case then I must assist you, but I do not intend getting myself shot at every night."
Bruce was so intent at listening to Alfred he failed to hear Leslie enter the room.
He was only aware of her presence when she said "Ho my God you can't be serious, not after this."
"Leslie" Alfred said his voice a little stronger "he is going to do this thing with or without our help. Without it he will die, I cannot face that! With our help he has a chance. He may not be my own flesh and blood but I love him too much not to do everything I can to help keep him alive. I know you feel the same way. Or are you willing to abandon him to fate?"
Leslie swallowed audible. "No" she said tears staining her face. "No I will not abandon him. But I am not sure which one of you is the bigger fool."
Bruce looked up at her and smiled faintly.
"That being the case here is what I propose. Bruce you will go to the FBI Academy to learn about crime detection and basic street procedure. That will take around six months. In that time I will assemble vehicles, weapons, tracking devices and some lightweight body armour, including head protection. We will then set you up with a base of operations at the Manor. Until all that is achieved there will be no more searching out crime is that understood young man! Your only task from now until you join the Academy will be to draw some designs for your armoured Vigilante suit. If you agree to this you will have my full support."
Leslie looked at both men and nodded "I will go along with that" she said.
"Agreed" said Bruce squeezing Alfred's arm.
"Now young man I want to talk to this lovely lady alone. You had better go back to the manor and don't make a mess of my Kitchen" he joked to lighten the mood.
"Will he be able to get into the FBI Academy?" asked Leslie after Bruce left the room.
"I am going to call in a couple of very large favours; he will be enrolled within the month." Alfred said.
"Bruce and I have sorted out our differences, now I need to know how do things stand between us?" he asked not daring to look at her face.
She squeezed his hand and lent forward to kiss him on the lips.
He opened his eyes and looked into hers "Are we alright?" he asked. He felt a huge wave of relief sweep through him when she nodded.
"But, if you ever try dying on me again Alfred Pennyworth I am dammed if I am going to forgive you. What the hell were you doing letting me go on at you like that while you were bleeding to death!"
Well; I've always found it safer not to interrupt a lady when she needs to get something off her chest, Alfred quipped.
"If you were fit enough I would hit you," Leslie threatened through a watery smile.
"Madam I will not tell you what I would be doing to you now if I were fit enough, but it would not be of a violent nature."
Leslie smiled and held his hand.
"Bruce will be OK?" Leslie asked.
"All we can do, all any parent can do, is try our best to keep our child safe. What we cannot do is stop them living their own lives."
Back at the manor Bruce was working on the designs for his suite. He knew it must instil fear into the thugs as well as protect him; but what should it look like? Just then he jumped as a bat flew in through the open window.