Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Not making money off 'em. This is just for
fun. =)
IMAGES IN DREAMS Author: Onyx Rating: PG-13
Chapter 3
The pendulum of the large grandfather clock, sitting in the study, idly swayed back and forth as the night pressed on.
A soft click signaled the opening of a door, and Alfred Pennyworth stepped out of his bedroom, robe and slipper clad, and silently made his way down the hall to the stairs where he descended to the first floor.
He went into the kitchen and, with minimal difficulty from his bandaged hands, poured some milk into a pan and heated it on the stove.
With a glass of warm milk, Alfred went into the study and sat in one of the large comfortable lounge chairs near the fireplace, silently staring up at the portrait of his old friends and sighed sadly.
Not for the first time had he done this. Bruce's crusade often wore at the older man's heart, crushing it with worry. But, this time was different. This time. . .It was too close. It felt all too real. Looked all too real. The image of Bruce battered and broken, laying on the floor. Yes, it was the duplicant, but the resemblance was so remarkable, it may as well had been the real thing.
It was an image Alfred had frequent his dreams. And in them, all he could do was stand helpless on the sidelines as Bruce lay there. Dead. His face staring back at Alfred with cold lifeless eyes. Just as that duplicant had done the other night. It was as if his worst nightmare had come true. And even though he knew that duplicant wasn't Bruce, it still filled him with dread and sent bitter cold shivers down his spine.
Alfred winced at the image plaguing his mind and quickly shut his eyes, resting his head in his hand.
A few moments later a gentle warm pressure settled on his arm and Alfred jerked his head up to see Bruce kneeling next to him, concern evident in the frown on his face.
"You're crying?" Bruce suddenly observed with utter surprise, once he got a good look at Alfred's face.
Alfred blinked and quickly looked away. "It's nothing, Master Bruce. I've simply got something in my eyes."
Bruce frowned some more, obviously not buying it. He squeezed the older man's arm a little more in a reassuring gesture. Bruce wasn't that great with emotion.
"Is there something you need, sir?" Alfred asked casually as if there was nothing wrong.
"Yes," Bruce replied. "I need you to tell me what's wrong." The tone in his voice was unusually gentle and caring. So unlike the man he portrayed to the public, and, to an extent, his 'family'.
In fact, it was so unusual, it caused Alfred to turn and look at him.
Bruce stared back, waiting.
Alfred sighed and looked away again. "You'd do well to take the advice you gave to Master Dick, earlier, sir."
"Eavesdropping again, were you?"
"Not intentionally. However, the cave does echo. I advise you not to consider it in the future for private discussions."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Bruce's mouth. "So noted." He didn't let go of Alfred's arm. "Come on, old friend. You know how much of a hypocrite I can be." He paused. "It's something to do with that duplicant downstairs, isn't it?"
Alfred propped his chin on his hand, closed his eyes and nodded.
Bruce stayed silent.
"I worry about you young man," Alfred finally said. "More than I let on."
Bruce nodded. He knew. But it had always been a silent knowledge. Something the two of them understood, but never needed to or dared speak of openly.
It seemed, however, that was about to change.
Alfred sighed, than allowed it all to come out. "I was so afraid yesterday. Both of that thing and the thought that it had. . .I'm so proud of you, Bruce. I admit this life you've chosen isn't something I like. I do understand it, though. But, the thought that it could get you killed. . .When you first ventured out on this crusade, I had a difficult time. The thought that you might not return was always with me, and still is. Over the years, I had gotten through the worst. Come to accept it and prepared myself for it if it ever happened."
There was a pause.
"Until last night." Alfred swallowed hard. "Then I realized how unprepared I truly was and how difficult it would to face that reality should it truly happen. No matter how prepared I may think I am."
Bruce sighed. He wasn't sure what to say. This hadn't been exactly what he'd been thinking was bothering his old friend.
"I don't think this tired old heart could take that, son," Alfred whispered painfully.
Not knowing what else to do, Bruce gently gathered Alfred in his arms and held him.
To be continued. . .
IMAGES IN DREAMS Author: Onyx Rating: PG-13
Chapter 3
The pendulum of the large grandfather clock, sitting in the study, idly swayed back and forth as the night pressed on.
A soft click signaled the opening of a door, and Alfred Pennyworth stepped out of his bedroom, robe and slipper clad, and silently made his way down the hall to the stairs where he descended to the first floor.
He went into the kitchen and, with minimal difficulty from his bandaged hands, poured some milk into a pan and heated it on the stove.
With a glass of warm milk, Alfred went into the study and sat in one of the large comfortable lounge chairs near the fireplace, silently staring up at the portrait of his old friends and sighed sadly.
Not for the first time had he done this. Bruce's crusade often wore at the older man's heart, crushing it with worry. But, this time was different. This time. . .It was too close. It felt all too real. Looked all too real. The image of Bruce battered and broken, laying on the floor. Yes, it was the duplicant, but the resemblance was so remarkable, it may as well had been the real thing.
It was an image Alfred had frequent his dreams. And in them, all he could do was stand helpless on the sidelines as Bruce lay there. Dead. His face staring back at Alfred with cold lifeless eyes. Just as that duplicant had done the other night. It was as if his worst nightmare had come true. And even though he knew that duplicant wasn't Bruce, it still filled him with dread and sent bitter cold shivers down his spine.
Alfred winced at the image plaguing his mind and quickly shut his eyes, resting his head in his hand.
A few moments later a gentle warm pressure settled on his arm and Alfred jerked his head up to see Bruce kneeling next to him, concern evident in the frown on his face.
"You're crying?" Bruce suddenly observed with utter surprise, once he got a good look at Alfred's face.
Alfred blinked and quickly looked away. "It's nothing, Master Bruce. I've simply got something in my eyes."
Bruce frowned some more, obviously not buying it. He squeezed the older man's arm a little more in a reassuring gesture. Bruce wasn't that great with emotion.
"Is there something you need, sir?" Alfred asked casually as if there was nothing wrong.
"Yes," Bruce replied. "I need you to tell me what's wrong." The tone in his voice was unusually gentle and caring. So unlike the man he portrayed to the public, and, to an extent, his 'family'.
In fact, it was so unusual, it caused Alfred to turn and look at him.
Bruce stared back, waiting.
Alfred sighed and looked away again. "You'd do well to take the advice you gave to Master Dick, earlier, sir."
"Eavesdropping again, were you?"
"Not intentionally. However, the cave does echo. I advise you not to consider it in the future for private discussions."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Bruce's mouth. "So noted." He didn't let go of Alfred's arm. "Come on, old friend. You know how much of a hypocrite I can be." He paused. "It's something to do with that duplicant downstairs, isn't it?"
Alfred propped his chin on his hand, closed his eyes and nodded.
Bruce stayed silent.
"I worry about you young man," Alfred finally said. "More than I let on."
Bruce nodded. He knew. But it had always been a silent knowledge. Something the two of them understood, but never needed to or dared speak of openly.
It seemed, however, that was about to change.
Alfred sighed, than allowed it all to come out. "I was so afraid yesterday. Both of that thing and the thought that it had. . .I'm so proud of you, Bruce. I admit this life you've chosen isn't something I like. I do understand it, though. But, the thought that it could get you killed. . .When you first ventured out on this crusade, I had a difficult time. The thought that you might not return was always with me, and still is. Over the years, I had gotten through the worst. Come to accept it and prepared myself for it if it ever happened."
There was a pause.
"Until last night." Alfred swallowed hard. "Then I realized how unprepared I truly was and how difficult it would to face that reality should it truly happen. No matter how prepared I may think I am."
Bruce sighed. He wasn't sure what to say. This hadn't been exactly what he'd been thinking was bothering his old friend.
"I don't think this tired old heart could take that, son," Alfred whispered painfully.
Not knowing what else to do, Bruce gently gathered Alfred in his arms and held him.
To be continued. . .