Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Gotham. Some small quotes are directly from the show. Those parts are credited to Gotham.
Episode 2
Alfred's anger was a truly terrible thing. Terrible, but useful. He could remember more than a few times where that anger had saved his life while in the Queen's service.
But as with all dangerous things, Alfred had to be careful with his anger. Especially when his life now revolved around a child.
Bruce was angry now as well, of course. No child could go through seeing their parents gunned down right in front of them in the streets and come out just the same. But Master Bruce's anger was focused, he had a purpose.
Alfred's anger, on the other hand, was a beast. An untamed beast.
The Waynes were rarely at the receiving end of their butler's fury. Even Master Bruce, through his younger years of tantrums and misbehavior, had hardly ever seen the wrath of Alfred Pennyworth.
But in that one moment, seeing the burn scarring the middle of his master's palm, the anger got the better of dear old Alfred.
Throughout the last few days of "testing", Alfred's fear had been rising and as it did, the anger within him began to burn.
Alfred was not sure of many things in this new and dangerous future that had been thrust upon him, but he was absolutely certain of this: he had lost the Waynes, he could not bear to lose his final charge too.
Alfred stared down at the burn for a moment, and then his own hand struck out. Gripping the young boy's thankfully uninjured wrist, he gave Bruce a violent shake.
"My God, you stupid little boy!" he cried, his terror momentarily clouding his mind and sealing his throat.
His eyes meet those of Master Bruce. Alfred could see himself reflected in the small, perfect irises.
Master Bruce's face was frozen in a mix of defiance and fear. Fear, that Alfred knew, must be painted on his own face as well.
Regret calmed the flames in the man's mind. Here was his precious boy, in pain and clouded by anger and fear. More of the same would do no good.
"Oh," breathed Alfred. He released Master Bruce's wrist and pulled the boy into a rough embrace.
"It's alright," he soothed, "Sorry. It's going to be alright."
Master Bruce's hands did not come around him, but his body slumped into Alfred's. Had his guardian not been supporting him, he would have slid to the ground.
Anger was not the way to tame this child. Bruce Wayne had enough anger for the both of them.
He had to be the steadfast love that calmed the boy's internal storm.
However, Alfred couldn't help but wonder, who on earth would sooth his own rage?
If this damned city tried to take away the only thing that Alfred Pennyworth had left in this world, then his anger just might burn it to the ground.
A little bit of a shorter chapter this time. Please Review!