Singular
Alfred is proud.
When you're a butler, you can be proud in an indirect way. There's a long-standing tradition of English butlers taking ownership of "their" families. But it's not the same as being part of the family. He's always taken pride in Bruce's accomplishments—the school projects well done, the meticulously-completed logic puzzles he leaves lying around, the flashes of unusual maturity he displays. But it was Thomas and Martha Wayne who were responsible for shaping and guiding the boy, and most of the pride rightfully belonged to them.
It's different now. As he walks side-by-side with his ward, back to the waiting car, he feels a surge of pride that belongs to him alone. Of course, Bruce will always bear the DNA of his parents in both body and soul, but his present belongs to Alfred.
They are singular together, the hard-edged weapon of a butler with a flinty exterior that conceals a gentle soul he shows to few, and the delicately-featured, thoughtful boy with his deep wells of anger and determination.
Alfred would never have desired the responsibility he now has, and he would never have wished the boy such pain. Nevertheless, as the days have passed, he has come to understand his place. He is no longer a butler standing in the offing while the life of the Waynes unfolds around him. He cannot afford to stand aloof. Bruce needs him too much. And—if he's honest with himself, he loves the boy too much.
The butler had thought he could not love Bruce Wayne more. He now knows what all parents know—that when it comes to children, love is an infinite thing, piling on itself and increasing exponentially by the day until you drown in its depths, never to recover.
He puts his hands on the boy's shoulders and feels him relax. He is proud of the courage that carried his ward to Tommy Elliot's door, and he is proud of the resolve that connected fist with face. But that pride is nothing to the satisfaction he feels at the realization that his words can calm Bruce Wayne's rage and that his hands can soothe his agitation.
They are a pair of singulars, the boy and the man. He teaches the boy to live; the boy teaches him to love. Alfred feels like the lucky one.