Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, DC Comics and Time/Warner do. If I did, you'll know it because
that's when I'll marry Dick Grayson. But I'm not trying to infringe on their copyright.
Acknowledgments: I'd like to thank Siti Marie for beta reading and the title; and Marco Palogne
for beta reading, and for being a great friend and cologne tycoon. This is my first fanfic, so
feedback is welcome, but be nice!!
Beginnings
Alfred Pennyworth brought a tray of steaming vegetable soup into the boy's room and set it on
the desk in front of his young master. He had long since given up on the hope that hunger would
overpower shock, and now just sat the dark-haired boy on his lap to feed him.
All the child specialists, the therapists and psychologists, had told him not to worry. They told him
that someday, Bruce Wayne would be a normal boy, falling out of this silence and into the world
of childhood. But after three months of not hearing the voice of his six-year-old master, Alfred
didn't believe them.
As he fed the boy, Alfred chattered about what he had done that day, what still needed to be
done, world news--anything to kill the unearthly silence that seemed to fill every niche and gap in
the bedroom; a room that used to be so bright with love and laughter. The other Wayne servants
had all quit and been dismissed a long time ago, but Alfred was prepared to see this through. He
had been with the Wayne household since his days with the British Secret Service, and, in the
darkest hours of the night, blamed himself for what had befallen Dr. Wayne and his wife. If only
he had been there that night...if only he hadn't taken off...if only, if only...
Alfred looked at the young boy whom he had, over the years, grown so fond of, and felt an
intense sadness that, from the way things looked, he would never grow up to have the happy life
his parents had dreamed for him. Alfred had dreamed of it too: for him to be hte levelheaded
businessman to take over for Dr. Wayne when he grew old. Alfred sighed; a dream shattered
with two shots in a dark alley. Life just wasn't going to play fair with this couple and their young
son.
Suddenly, little Bruce looked up at Alfred, eyes glaring with conviction, and said firmly, "It's not
going to happen again, Alfred, not if I can help it."
And Alfred believed him..
that's when I'll marry Dick Grayson. But I'm not trying to infringe on their copyright.
Acknowledgments: I'd like to thank Siti Marie for beta reading and the title; and Marco Palogne
for beta reading, and for being a great friend and cologne tycoon. This is my first fanfic, so
feedback is welcome, but be nice!!
Beginnings
Alfred Pennyworth brought a tray of steaming vegetable soup into the boy's room and set it on
the desk in front of his young master. He had long since given up on the hope that hunger would
overpower shock, and now just sat the dark-haired boy on his lap to feed him.
All the child specialists, the therapists and psychologists, had told him not to worry. They told him
that someday, Bruce Wayne would be a normal boy, falling out of this silence and into the world
of childhood. But after three months of not hearing the voice of his six-year-old master, Alfred
didn't believe them.
As he fed the boy, Alfred chattered about what he had done that day, what still needed to be
done, world news--anything to kill the unearthly silence that seemed to fill every niche and gap in
the bedroom; a room that used to be so bright with love and laughter. The other Wayne servants
had all quit and been dismissed a long time ago, but Alfred was prepared to see this through. He
had been with the Wayne household since his days with the British Secret Service, and, in the
darkest hours of the night, blamed himself for what had befallen Dr. Wayne and his wife. If only
he had been there that night...if only he hadn't taken off...if only, if only...
Alfred looked at the young boy whom he had, over the years, grown so fond of, and felt an
intense sadness that, from the way things looked, he would never grow up to have the happy life
his parents had dreamed for him. Alfred had dreamed of it too: for him to be hte levelheaded
businessman to take over for Dr. Wayne when he grew old. Alfred sighed; a dream shattered
with two shots in a dark alley. Life just wasn't going to play fair with this couple and their young
son.
Suddenly, little Bruce looked up at Alfred, eyes glaring with conviction, and said firmly, "It's not
going to happen again, Alfred, not if I can help it."
And Alfred believed him..