"Some times… people bring out the worst in you… I don't know why we're still together…" You're together because you don't want to hurt us. If you and him weren't married… we'd… I don't want two dads. I don't want two moms. I just want one family. I don't want to spend every night, digging scissors into my legs, sobbing because I can't be 'whole' again… I want it to be like it was before Jack was born…
Disclaimer: I own nothing except this cruddy broken heart, but if anyone wants it, you can take it. I don't need it anymore… I'm just a white blood cell, fighting like hell for you…
"Oh dear," Alfred frowned to himself, patting his pockets.
He seemed to have misplaced his spare key. How terribly embarrassing! Bruce would have his head for such an avoidable mishap. The poor boy must've been worrying himself half to death! The butler ran a hand over his balding head, sighing heavily. He wasn't too ashamed though. Bruce would surely understand. With a sheepish smile, Alfred set his fist to the door and knocked a merry tune, waiting patiently. He dropped his hand to his side when he saw someone he presumed to be Bruce or Richard open the door. He was surprised to see that it was someone he didn't know standing there, weapon in hand. Alfred jumped.
"Oh!" he held his hands up by his head to show he held nothing that could be dangerous.
The man seemed to be a police officer of a sort, wearing a bullet proof vest. What in the world was a police officer doing in the house? Did Bruce worry that much about his disappearance? How silly!
"Who are you?" the man demanded to know, his voice even more gravelly then Batman's best voice.
Alfred kept his eyes on the gun in front of him, doing his best to stay calm.
"Alfred Pennyworth. I'm the butler," he curtly introduced himself.
The uniformed man nodded and moved back just enough for Alfred to walk into the house. The first thing he saw was a clear shot of the study ahead of him. He saw Bruce sitting with his legs spaced, resting his elbows on them, his posture positively dreadful. Across from him was a red haired teen with freckles… oh, what did Richard refer to them as? Ginger? Gingers… Yes, that'd be it. There was a ginger in his living room who looked to be about 16 or so, leaning back in the arm chair, one leg folded the other, hugging himself weakly.
When Bruce spotted Alfred, he gasped, rising from his seat slowly in disbelief at first. Only once he was sure that it was Alfred he was seeing, Bruce dashed down the hall, enveloping the old man in a bone crushing hug, setting his chin on the dirtied shoulder of his 'father's tuxedo jacket. Alfred let out a surprised grunt, but he eased into it, smiling with confusion. He wasn't used to such affection, but it delighted him to no end. He returned the hug for a moment before Bruce pulled away, hope decorating his tear filled eyes. His eyes darted around.
"I-Is Dick with you?" Bruce demanded to know, wiping at his eyes.
Alfred raised an eyebrow. For a second, it seemed as if it was Bruce who had struck his head against the countertop.
"No...? Is he not upstairs?"
The butler glanced up the stairs, expecting to see the little boy dash down the stairs, giggling to himself before tackling both Bruce and him in a huge hug. From the tear tracks on the ginger and Bruce's faces, Alfred assumed that he wouldn't get a hug from the ebony. The hope from Bruce's face faded and he hugged Alfred tightly again, tears threatening again. Alfred comfortingly patted Bruce's back, confused as ever.
"Where is Master Richard?" he demanded to know.
The ginger in the study set a hand to his lips to stifle a choky breath, screwing up his eyes in pain. Bruce just hugged him tighter, his breath becoming rough. Alfred frowned, reluctantly slipping out of Bruce's vice grip. He walked into the study, stopping in front of the ginger. He glanced from him to Bruce, back and forth.
"Who are you?" he asked the redhead first.
From up close, he nearly gasped at the sight of the teen. You could tell that he had been crying heavily lately. His skin looked tender and raw almost, his eyes lined with more tears. He was as pale as one could get, all of the color in his broken cheeks. He was a mess to say the least.
"This is Wally, one of Dick's friends," Bruce introduced him.
Wally weakly held out his hand towards the butler and they shook weakly. The teen's hand shook madly.
"Oh yes," Alfred smiled in recognition, "Master Richard spoke very highly of you."
Wally's eyes widened for a moment before he choked, his hand flying back to cover his mouth for a moment. A tear fell from his emerald eyes. He coughed it off.
"I… I'm glad you're alright," he whispered, bowing his head.
His suddenly unkempt hair fell down into his eyes in an insane manner that drove the butler simply mad. He understood though. From the way Dick praised Wally, one might think they were in love. Such a silly notion, but it was possible. If so, Alfred would support them of course, but… Oh gee, where was I? Got off track. My sincerest regrets.
"What are you doing here Wallace? Where is Richard?" Alfred inquired.
He felt so 'out of it', as the teens might say. Wally stared hard at his knees, pulling his hood up over his head.
"Dick… disappeared more than a week ago. Yesterday, he sent me a file holding four years worth of a project he's been working on… I was going to tell Batman, but he hasn't been seen around for a long while now… so I figured I'd tell Dick's father about it…" he explained, sounding as deflated as the balloons left standing on the empty circus grounds as the acts pack up, ready to leave this town to another to humiliate and perform in front of random strangers.
Alfred's eyes widened and he glanced to Bruce, asking for some sign that this was all some joke inappropriate at this minute, seeing that Alfred had no recollection of why he had disappeared, but Bruce's eyes held the same bone-chilling shadows as usual. A weak gasp slipped past his old chapped lips as he realized it had to be true. He weakly stumbled back, taking a seat in the chair Bruce had abandoned as his knees grew weak.
"So… that woman… she didn't… i-it wasn't her, right?" Alfred didn't know why the others were staring at him confused.
He narrowed his eyes at Bruce.
"Of all people! Bruce, you spy to no end on your… 'son'! He disappears and you go weak? Get your fanny upstairs," he ignored the weak snicker from Wally at the old-time language, "and find out where your boy is! He learned from the best after all. He wouldn't just let himself get whisked away!"
Bruce ran a hand through his hair.
"I already ran through security footage. The woman spotted entering Dick's room and attempting to stab him… the woman who followed him to the…" Bruce glanced discreetly to the certain bookshelf, "the woman who chased after him into the night… I looked her up. She doesn't exist. She's not on any map. I fear we're… dealing with a professional…"
Alfred forced himself to his feet and stormed over to the man he considered his son, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"No, she is not a professional! She's a pregnant woman who has our- er, your baby! YOU are the professional! Now use your professionalism and get Master Richard back, or so help me, I'll-!"
Bruce held up his hands in protest.
"I get it Alfred. I'm doing all I can though…"
"Then do more! Bite the bullet, swallow your pride and ask for help! The world isn't afraid to help a man as praised as you!" Alfred scolded with all of his heart, kicking into his paternal instincts.
Bruce's eyes widened.
"I have the FBI, CIA, the police force, the coast guard and the Justice League looking for him! What else can I do?" he cried in defense.
Alfred turned his eyes to Wally, marching his way.
"You heard the ginger," Alfred glanced back at Bruce, "Richard's been working on a project for four years. Finish it. I'm going to go look through the footage!"
He stormed off, mumbling about 'sending an old man to do a father's work', leaving Bruce and Wally alone again. Wally grinned weakly, laughing dryly.
"Best old man ever," he declared before the soberness faded back into the picture.
Bruce looked at the folder on the table, picking it up.
"Alright kid… I'm not quite sure I like you and you seem to be scared shitless about me, but this is for the sake of Dick. Let's finish what he started."
There. They're starting to pick it up. And yes, I made Alfred a badass. It's only because I love him. Very out of character, but I don't care. Their son/ grandson/ best friend is gone. What'd you expect? Who's POV next?
-F.J.