Howdy! Welcome to my first attempt at a Gotham one-shot. I've been watching the show since it first aired and I've absolutely fallen in love with it. I have really enjoyed this rendition of Alfred Pennyworth, as I do not think there are many films that quite do justice to Alfred's military background and effect on Bruce Wayne's up bringing. I decided my first one shot would be set with Alfred. Pardon me if I have made a mistake in his character. Leave a review and tell me what you think. This may become a series of one shots or it may be a stand alone, depending on my given time to write.

With that, let's get this show on the road!

The rain from earlier that morning had given way to a bout of bright sun shine, as tends to happen frequently in Gotham. The glare from the wet roads in the sunlight was not particularly bad, however, and Alfred was able to drive without the need for the sunglasses in the compartment just above the rear view mirror. Just as well, as he we was not particularly fond of them.

Navigating the streets, he replayed the conversation he had with Bruce before dropping him off for school over in his head. The boy was smart, and sharp as a tack, but he needed to have time with other children to develop the people skills that would be required if he were to pick up where his parents had left off. Learning things like mathematics and proper english was important, Alfred knew, and quite necessary for life. But so were social skills, which he would not acquire if he kept himself locked in as he had been doing.

Beyond the need, however, to grasp both social and academic skills so as to become a professional in the field in which he would work, was the need for the boy to heal. He had stopped his self inflicted injuries, but he still had reason to be concerned for him. While tidying his desk, he had found some of the music he had been listening to, along with the various drawings he had made. Despite his appearance of recovering, he was still had so far to go. Making new friends, perhaps even garnering a fancy to someone special, might do the lad some good. In fact, this was the core reason he had sent him back, to give him a chance at reclaiming some degree of normality.

" Don't you want to be like a normal kid?" Alfred asked, after a brief exchange with Bruce on why he should be there. The boy paused at the question, staring out as he pondered the question.

" I'm not sure." He replied, seeming confused on something. He then looked Alfred in the eye and asked with such sincerity that it baffled the butler." Define "normal" and make a good case for it."

" You're going to bloody school." He said, his exasperation showing through in his firmer tone of voice. He then commanded,"Now start walking." With reluctant obedience, the boy proceeded to ascend the stairs, taking a brief glance back before finishing the ascent up the stairs and into the school.

" Good luck lad." Alfred said when the boy was out of ear shot, a tinge of pity and sadness in his voice, the realization of just how hard this was going to be now sinking in to the butler

Alfred shook his head at the memory, realizing he had reached his location and had not realized it. Shutting the car off, he stepped out and took a deep breath. The Gotham cemetery didn't have many visitors, as most people felt no need to visit the dead. Alfred proceeded to walk up the hill, passing the array of tomb stones and memorials. His destination came into sight as he crested the top of the hill, making his way toward one tomb stone that stuck out to him among a sea of graves. He stopped at the foot of it:

Thomas Wayne & Martha Wayne
Architects of hope to those of Gotham
Resurgam

"Good morning, Master Tom." He paused, unsure of what to say next. " I should like to inform you that master Bruce has been safely dropped off at school." He let a small half smile cross his face," The lad was rather reluctant, took him a while just to step out of the car," He let a brief laugh escape him recalling the memory," he was about to pull out a statistic on homeschooling, try and get out of going."

Alfred shook his head, his hands held behind his back and his posture giving signs of his military background. He smiled and stared out at the city, thinking about his and Bruce's time together in recent weeks." He's a sharp one, that lad. Highly analytic, and quite curious." He found himself giving a short chuckle, before the smile on his face began to fall." He's even asked for the files of Wayne enterprises. Been pouring over them near day and night... trying to see why..."

The butler breathed deeply, both thinking of how to explain everything and wondering why he was explaining this to them. They were dead, they couldn't hear him talking, they couldn't see the pain and sadness of their son. And still, he felt compelled to bring this to them.

" Bloody hell, he's been trying to find out why someone wanted you dead." He stated, sadness weighing heavily on his voice and staring back out into the city." He's doing these stupid things, climbing the roof and standing on the edge, and when I've asked him about it he says he's learning to conquer fear." His gaze returned to their grave," He's been listening to this atrocious music and drawing ghastly pictures and hiding them in his desk so I won't see them. He's shut himself up in the manor, hardly talks to anyone except me and detective Gordon." He thought for a moment, recalling the mans dedication to solving the case, despite the department closing it when Mario Pepper was framed. He was a good man, and Bruce needed another good influence, but work took him away so often that he hardly had time to visit him.

"Gordon is a good man, but he's been... delayed quite heavily, and the department closed the case. So, Master Bruce has taken it upon himself to solve it." He shook his head sadly, a brief sigh in his words as he continued." On top of it all, I've pulled myself in with him." He blinked hard for a moment, thinking of the events that had transpired in so short a time." I asked him if he wanted to be like a normal kid, and he asks me for a bloody definition, and to make a case for it." A short, grim laugh escaped his lips at the thought of his words." I've never raised a child, master Tom, but I'm smart enough to know that master Bruce, all things that he is, will never be a normal child."

And it was this thought, the thought of a child's innocence and any chance at normality being stripped away from him, that broke Alfred's heart the most. When he joined the army, he had been a young buck, but nevertheless an adult. He had seen truly horrifying things, but he had learned to deal with them, because that was what grown ups were supposed to do. How is a child, barely even a teenager, supposed to handle these things? How was he supposed to handle the nightmares of his mother and father murdered in front of him, night by night? How was he to deal with calling to his mother and father late at night only to realize they will never answer again? Or the complete loneliness that accompanies the realization? How was he supposed to handle the earth shattering fear of seeing the same killer in his dreams, always aiming the gun, always about to deliver the final round before leaving him in his own misery and grief?

The sadness Alfred felt gave way to a new emotion, his fists clinched and knuckles turning white. This was not sadness: this was anger. Anger that a man would steal a child of the loving presence of parents who loved him. Anger at the thought of corrupt officials who refused to finish a case they knew was not closed. Anger that no one, save Gordon, thought to give a damn about the now alone child who would be forced to tackle life's challenges without his parents support, and forced to grow up before he was ready.

This was the anger that drove Alfred, the anger that made him say the next words to his late Masters," Rest assured, Master Wayne," He began, his voice trembling with rage and grief that surged through his veins." Bruce may not grow up to be a normal child..." His voice turned from trembling rage to steely determination." But you can be for damn sure that he will grow to be a Wayne child. One whom you would look at and beam with pride." He walked up to the stone and placed his hand on it." Rest well, master Tom, and you, master Martha."

He walked away from the grave sight, his fists clinched again in steely determination. He would hold true to his word, and he would raise a child that Thomas and Martha would be proud to call their son. He would crawl out of this muck and mar he had gone through, and the dark of night that once hid a boy would be replaced by the light of day revealing a man. He had many troubles ahead, and they would all be difficult. But he would overcome them all.

He would be a Wayne, and that was something no bastard with a gun would ever take away from him.

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it." John 1:5