Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.
Home Truths
By
Peggie
Bruce had not explored this part of the attic of Wayne Manor since he was a boy. Alfred disapproved of people routing about up here. He always claimed it caused a trail of dust through the rest of the house. Bruce knew this was where Alfred had stored his parent's possessions. He knew Alfred had removed them at the psychiatrist request. It was hoped by removing personal everyday reminders that could trigger Bruce's depression; it would help him to recover quicker.
As a ten-year-old Bruce had come up here to have a look. He wanted to discovered more about his Mom and Dad, he'd feared he was forgetting them. He'd found all sorts of things he'd forgotten about. His father's pipe, his mother's trinket boxes, a record collection, and his father's old medical school pendent. The most interesting discovery had been his mother's diaries, they had been packed into an old trunk. He had been just about to read them when Alfred had discovered him, and gone nothing short of ballistic. He'd snatched the books off the boy and yelled at him to get downstairs. Bruce still felt an element of shock when he thought about his friend's reaction. He'd turned instantly from a gentle, loving, caring, friend into a frightening monster.
Bruce had fled in fear, he'd hidden in the cupboard in his room for most of that day. Above him he heard footsteps as Alfred moved things back in place. He'd peered around the door as he heard Alfred descend the stairs to see him locking the attic door and pocketing the key.
Later a contrite Alfred had come to his room to apologise, he'd said he was worried that Bruce could get hurt in the attic, he was frightened something could happen to him up there. Although Bruce felt this was true, he was sure it wasn't the whole truth. It had taken several days before Bruce had felt able to trust Alfred again. He'd avoided the man as much as he could. But there was only Alfred, he had no one else. Gradually things had gone back to how they had been before. Only Bruce no longer wanted to explore the attics. If something up there frightened Alfred so much, then he felt it best to avoid the place.
He was only here now because of a snippet of conversation he'd overheard at a party the night before and because Alfred was away for the weekend with Leslie.
It had been at the at the Miller's daughter's wedding, he'd been acting as his usual public image, when he'd overheard old Mrs Miller comment "That young Wayne, he's like an ally cat."
Bruce had smiled at the comment, after all he'd modelled his public image on many of Gotham's playboys who he had observed closely as a child. One in particular had stood out, Mrs Millers own son. He was known to chase anything in a skirt.
"Mind you it's not surprising, genes will out!" the old lady had continued. "His father used that hospital as his own private harem. And his mother wasn't much better. Mind you I suppose she thought what's good for the goose. If it wasn't for the fact he's the image of Thomas Wayne you'd have to question who his father was?" She'd giggled at that, obviously drunk. "Mind you he'll need to take care who he marries. No doubt Thomas left the odd cuckoo in some nests.
Bruce had stood shocked. This couldn't be his parent the poisonous old woman was talking about. She'd got them confused with other people, after all it was over twenty years ago. He'd wanted to confront the old woman, but she was past comment as she'd nodded off to sleep. He left the party claiming sickness, which was true. Bruce felt sick and confused. He needed to be reassured that his parent were the loving devoted couple he remembered.
It was ten to ten when he called Alfred's cell phone. It had rung seven times before Leslie had answered it. She'd asked him to hold on as Alfred was getting them some drinks from the bar, she'd have to go and get him. He could hear dance music playing in the background. Then he heard Leslie hand Alfred the phone. When Bruce heard his friend's voice he noted the element of fear in it.
"Mast Bruce, is there a problem?" the old man asked obviously worried.
Bruce felt foolish, what the hell could he say, 'Hi Alfred, were my parents prone to sleeping around.' This was stupid. Instead he put a drunken slur into his voice.
"Just ringing to check you're having a good time." Bruce mumbled.
"Sir are you all right?" the old man asked very concerned.
Hell, he was over doing it. "Sure Alfred, I just needed an alibi, you know."
"Ok Sir, when do you want me to ring you back." There was a distinctly cold edge to the voice.
Bruce couldn't blame him, this was the first time Leslie and Alfred had got away together in almost a year. Something usually cropped up to disrupt the couples plans, more often than not it was Bruce's, well, Batman's fault.
"No need Alfred, problem over. Thanks old friend."
"Master Bruce, are you sure there's nothing wrong?" Alfred asked now sounding more worried than before.
"No, there's nothing wrong, nothing that can't wait for you getting home. Give Leslie my love." With that he'd hung up.
That had been stupid, there was no reason to ruin his friends' weekend. After all he was only reacting to a poisonous old woman's half remembered past. It was obviously a mistake, she'd confused his parents with another couple.
It had been almost daybreak when he'd returned from patrol. He was tired and hurt. He'd been careless, he'd got himself cut by a seventeen-year-old punk with a kitchen knife. It had been his own fault, he'd been distracted, and he hadn't been concentrating. Even now he couldn't get Mrs Miller's words out of his mind.
He went up to bed, but sleep wouldn't come. That's when he remembered the diaries in the attic.
He had Alfred's bunch of keys from the hook in the pantry. He went through everyone but none fitted the attic door. He searched around in the draws in the kitchen, still no joy. Finally in frustration he kicked the door just above the lock and had the satisfaction of seeing it fly off it's hinges.
It took Bruce twenty minutes to find the trunk. It was locked, he didn't even bother to look for the key, he just threw the trunk against the wall. It sprang open spilling its contents, including the diaries, across the floor. Bruce picked them up and headed for the kitchen. He made a pot of coffee before sitting down to read his mother's thoughts and secrets.
Jan 4 th
Bruce has got a slight fever, he was restless all day. Luckily Alfred was willing to have him, as we'd got Bill Summer's party to go to. Thomas was rather the worst for ware. He kept chatting up Mrs Cawthorne, it seems they are old friends. I spent the evening with Ted and his friends.
Jan 5th
Thomas is working late again, I rang the hospital but he wasn't available.
Jan 6th
I've been alone all day, Bruce has been crying a lot. I think I'd go insane if it wasn't for Alfred. Ted came tonight to tell me he'd seen Thomas in the bar near the hospital with a blond!
Jan 7th
God I made a fool of myself today. I followed Thomas to the bar and saw him meet his blond. It's Sharon Crawthorne just as I suspected, they had one drink and headed for a motel across the street. I went home and got drunk, then made a pass at Alfred as he helped me up to my room. He was very kind about turning me down; he acted as if the offer had never been made.
Jan 10th
Had lunch with Ted at Luigies, seems Thomas had several affairs over the past three years. I'd suspected as much.
Jan 15th
Spent the day at the golf club with Ted. We ended up back at his place. I felt very guilty at first, but like Ted said Thomas doesn't seem to feel guilty.
Bruce snapped the volume shut, and dropped it on to the counter, he felt numb, unreal.
He opened the diary for the next year. He quickly scan read the pages. There were references to other women in his father's life and his mother's continued affair. Two entries caught his eye and brought a grim smile to his face.
March 17th
Ted and I are going to try for a weekend away. Thomas is taking the new young Doctor from the clinic, Leslie Thompkins, to the Cincinnati medical conference. Wonder how often they'll get to the conference hall.
March 20th
What a hoot, it seems Leslie turned Thomas down. By all accounts she doesn't mess with married men. Thomas has been in a foul mood ever since. Ted and I had a wonderful time stayed at his beach house all weekend.
He read on only to find that Mrs Miller had been speaking the truth. Thomas and Martha Wayne had not been the perfectly devoted couple he'd remembered. In fact they had both had frequent affairs. His whole life had been built on a delusion. He'd created Batman to honour two perfect people, now he knew they were no different from the others in Gotham society circles. Those people he'd always looked on with destine.
With tears running down his face Bruce picked up the books and slung them across the kitchen. They clattered against the far wall. He then slung his cup of coffee after them.
"Master Bruce, whatever are you doing!" demanded a crisp English voice.
Bruce turned, seeing his old friend he now knew why Alfred hadn't wanted him to see the diaries. He knew why Alfred had been so angry all those years ago.
"You knew!" Bruce yelled as he grabbed the front of Alfred's Jacket and threw the shocked old man up against the wall.
He heard Leslie scream his name as he repeatedly slammed the old man up against the wall. She was fighting to pull him off.
"Bruce, you're killing him!" She'd screamed into his ear.
His rage instantly subsided as he felt the man he was holding go limp and collapse into his arms. He looked shocked as he laid his friend on the floor, a pool of blood was forming beneath Alfred's head.
Leslie was moaning quietly as she worked to stem the flow. Bruce dropped to his knees next to the old man and look on in horror. What had he done? After a few minutes, much to Bruce's relief, Alfred's eyelids fluttered and after a minute his eyes focused on Bruce's face. Bruce heard him murmur "You seem a trifle upset sir."
Bruce laughed, the laughter held an edge of hysteria to it.
Alfred was struggling to get up. Leslie forced him to lay still. "I want to do a thorough exam, before you move. Damn it Bruce what the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded "What's Alfred ever done to deserve treatment like that?"
"I am sorry old friend, so sorry." Bruce said taking Alfred's hand. He sat back on his heels waiting for Leslie to complete her work. She looked up at Bruce, "He seems ok but I want to do a full series of x-rays to be sure."
Bruce easily lifted the dazed man and carried him to the medical centre in the cave. After an hour of further tests a relieved Leslie pronounced her friend free of serious injury, but he did have a mild concussion, several cracked ribs and bruising.
Despite Alfred's objections Bruce insisted on carrying him to his room.
Leslie was looking at Bruce with shock and distaste. "Bruce what the hell were you thinking of? You damn near killed him." she said quietly.
Bruce hung his head, he felt sick at the thought of what he'd done and at how he'd lost control of himself. He'd almost killed the most important person in his life. How the hell could he excuse that.
"Leslie you can't just blame Bruce, it's partly my fault." Alfred said.
Leslie looked at the man laid on the bed in amazement . "How the hell can an unprovoked attack be your fault Alfred? All you did was ask him what he was doing."
"It's my fault because I let an untruth persist and I also imposed my standards on the boy. So when the truth surfaced he wasn't equipped to deal with it. I was a fool to think the truth could remain hidden forever!"
Bruce sat at the side of the old man. "You knew about my father's women and my mother's affair?"
Alfred closed his eyes for a moment then opening them he looked straight at the young man, and just said "Yes".
Bruce swallowed the anger he felt. Anger was no good. Anger had caused him to hurt his friend. "'So why did you let me go on believing that they were good, honest, people?"
"Because they were, good, honest, people Bruce. Good people who loved you very much and would do anything not to hurt you."
The problem is you're judging them by your standards, by your moral code. Not by theirs! Bruce since being eight years old you've lived not by your parent rules and beliefs. You've lived by mine. I brought you up to believe in the same things I would have wanted my own son to believe in. You are a member of Gotham's upper class, yet you have middle class moral standards." The old man laughed mirthlessly. "Those standards were out of date when my own father taught them to me! Perhaps I've also been living a sham."
Bruce took his friends hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Of all the people in the world he couldn't think of anyone more morally upright, no one he admired more than this man. "Alfred, how can you think that? You've never cheated on Leslie, have you?"
The old man smiled, "No I've never met anyone who I wanted to be with more the Leslie! But you've got to admit I haven't exactly done the right thing morally, I've never managed to get this wonderful woman to the altar."
Leslie smiled and took his other hand. "But that wasn't through a lack of trying. I've lost count of the times you've tried to make an honest woman of me!"
"But you're a couple and you are devoted to each other." Bruce said.
"So were your parents Bruce." Leslie said.
"Sure my father was so devoted he made a play for you at a medical conference Leslie. My mother even drunkenly propositioned her butler she was so devoted to her marriage."
"Bruce, your parent were acting no differently from thousands of other couples. I expect their parents had the same type of relationship. In many of the large houses my father and grandfather worked in affairs were normal. They added spice to otherwise boring lives. I suppose given the time and opportunity we'd all like the freedom to do as we please, so long as we didn't hurt others."
"It still doesn't seem right." Bruce muttered.
"No, not to you, but do you think your parent behaviour shocked Mrs Miller? I'll guarantee you it didn't, it just gave her something to gossip about. Nadia Miller had more gentleman friends then I could count. Her butler was a friend of my father's, the poor man felt like prey in the sights of a big game hunter!"
Bruce just laughed.
"As for telling you about your parents, would you really have wanted to know? Would you have believed me? What would have been achieve in trying to belittle them in your eyes? It would have felt like I was trying to score points off them."
"What you need to remember Bruce is they were good people, they loved you very much and they didn't deserve to die in that way. So in every respect, nothing has changed. The only thing that I hope has changed is you will become more tolerant of other people's foibles."
"Not everyone can live up to your moral code Bruce, may be not even yourself. We are, after all, only human and as a wise man once said to err is human."