Old Son
Bruce is angry, and he doesn't know why. Sometimes he hears his parents talking quietly, and they whisper that he's entering adolescence early, that it's not unexpected for a child as precocious as he is to start being moody at nine. After all, he's always been intense.
These days, his relationship with Alfred is a little bit different from how it used to be. He knows now what a butler is, not just for the Waynes, but in general. He understands that Alfred is an employee. Alfred feels it; Bruce can tell.
Truth is, Bruce doesn't exactly know why he's started to resent Alfred, but he can feel that the butler's expectations for him are changing. He's no longer just teaching him things like how to polish silver; he's training him to be a Wayne. "Stand up straight, Master Bruce. Don't be rude, Master Bruce. Look at people when you're speaking to them, Master Bruce."
He's always been a well-behaved child, his transgressions more about curiosity and testing than outright rebellion. But his feelings are going haywire these days, and sometimes, when the butler takes a certain tone, Bruce just stands in front of him with his arms folded. He doesn't say no, but there's no acquiescence, either.
Alfred has never been a disciplinarian. The relatively few times in his life when Bruce has needed correcting, it's been Thomas or Martha who make the decisions. They're not particularly strict parents, but they do expect respect. He doesn't disrespect Alfred around them, and the butler never tells on him. That's how, at nine years of age and four months, Bruce Wayne and his butler reach an unhappy stalemate that includes an angry little boy and a—well, Bruce doesn't know how Alfred feels about it. He figures the man is probably too angry at him to ever want to talk to him again. He's slammed too many doors.
It's a Tuesday night, and Thomas and Martha don evening clothes to attend a hospital opening. "Can't I come?" Bruce asks, not wanting to be left in the house with the butler.
"I'm sorry, but you need to be bright for school tomorrow," says his mother, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Alfred will take care of you."
Alfred will take care of you. He doubts it.
That's why, when his parents leave, he barricades himself in his room and doesn't come out, even when it's the normal time for dinner. A few minutes past, he hears a sharp knock on his locked door. "Master Bruce!" Alfred doesn't sound happy. "If you're not planning to eat dinner, I'm going to pack it up and give it to the homeless children on the street." The butler has never resorted to threats, and he's never actually punished Bruce. The child sits on his bed and curls up into his bedspread, not wanting to face the man's wrath.
The problem is, Bruce's stomach doesn't get the message. An hour passes, then another, and he's so hungry he feels like eating the stuffing out of his pillow. Finally, a timid Bruce Wayne peeks out of his bedroom door and finds the hallway empty. He's a far cry from the angry, defiant boy who has filled Wayne manner with the slamming sounds of his wrath. He's just a little boy who wants dinner. And he wants Alfred, but he's afraid Alfred doesn't want him.
Reluctantly, he makes his way through the house, relieved that he doesn't have to face his butler unexpectedly. When he gets to Wayne Manor's spacious kitchen, he peeks around the open doorframe and sees Alfred with his back turned to him, washing dishes across the room.
The man has always had extremely keen hearing, and he turns as soon as Bruce sets foot in the room. "Master Bruce?" He doesn't look angry; the little boy is glad, but his heart keeps pounding.
"I—I'm sorry, Alfred. Could I have something to eat?" He sounds like a child, and he knows it.
In an instant, the butler's face melts into a smile. "Of course you can, but first—" He opens his arms and inclines his head. It's an invitation Bruce never expected, and he rushes into the man's embrace with a vehemence that surprises even him.
Alfred's arms close around him, and he relaxes into the comfort, feeling months of anger and misunderstanding melt away in a few important moments. "My old son," the butler murmurs, "I'll always take care of you. Never forget that."