Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Not making money off 'em. This is just for
fun. =)
IMAGES IN DREAMS Author: AlfieLuv (Formally Onyx) Rating: PG-13
"You're sure you don't need any more help?" Dick asked as he was lead to the front door by Bruce.
"Positive. All the heavy work has been done. All that's left is some sweeping, dusting, and scrap that needs to be taken to the yard."
Dick sighed. "Positive?"
Bruce made a face as he handed Dick his overnight bag. "I thought you were the one who wanted freedom and independence. Not to have to be around here all the time?"
"So, you're finally admitting you're a prison running control freak?"
"Dick. . ."
Dick grinned. "Come on. You set yourself up for that one."
It was Bruce's turn to sigh. "Look, if it'll make you feel better, when the new computer parts come in, I'll call you and you can come over and put them in."
Shaking his head, the younger man opened the door. "You know I'd only be coming for Alfred's benefit." He smiled.
Bruce allowed a small smile of his own to show on his face. "Yeah. I know." Then he became a bit more serious. "I may need you in a few days for a case I'm working on. I'll call."
Dick nodded and Bruce extended a hand.
Dick accepted it, giving it a firm shake before leaning in and giving the other man a fatherly hug.
"Take care of yourself, son," Bruce murmured.
"You, too, pop," Dick responded as he stepped back with a grin. "Be sure to tell Alfred I said bye and that I'll give him a call tonight, okay?" He was still awfully worried about the older man.
Bruce nodded.
Dick secured his bag to the back of his motorcycle then hopped on and strapped on his helmet before giving Bruce a final wave and speeding away for Gotham U.
***
A couple hours later, the familiar stirring sound of the bats echoed through the cave signaling new movement.
Bruce looked up from the small computer console in the infirmary to see Alfred walking toward him with a silver tray carrying two cups of coffee.
He stood. "Alfred?"
Alfred set the tray down on a nearby table. "Sir."
Bruce took a tentative step in the other man's direction. "You alright?"
Alfred hesitated, knowing there was no point in hiding how he felt about the recent situation anymore. "I'm. . .adjusting, Sir."
Bruce frowned. "Alfred. . . Please sit down?"
"I have chores to attend to upstairs, Master Bruce, a dinner to start, laundry to—"
"Alfred," Bruce gently interrupted. "If that were really the case, why did you bring down two cups of coffee? Please sit." He pulled out a chair for the other man.
Once Alfred had reluctantly taken the seat, Bruce sat back down in his chair, facing him. "By the way, Dick said for me to say goodbye for him and to let you know he'll be calling you tonight."
"Calling me?" Alfred asked, sounding a bit surprised. "Why?"
"He's worried about you. So am I."
Alfred rubbed at his forehead. "I'm quite alright. He needn't worry like that. Nor should you. I simply. . ." He let the sentence trail off.
"You simply." Bruce nodded. "I know, Alfred. I know you're here worrying about us all the time. About me."
He took a breath and leaned back in the chair, his hands forming a triangle near his nose, the tips of his fingers touching. "Sometimes I forget how my. . . lifestyle. . .effects you."
Alfred lifted his eyes, focusing them on Bruce as the other man spoke.
"For that, I'm sorry, Alfred. But, I made a promise, I can't—"
"I know," Alfred interrupted. "It's not the promise. It's the result. Bruce. . ."
He sat up.
"I'm so proud of you. And I know your parents would be as well. Don't ever believe otherwise. It's. . .For me. . . ."
The older man sighed, trying to formulate the correct words. "I know I'm not your father, Bruce. But I can't help feeling like one to you in my heart. And when you don that cape and cowl. . .I feel like a father who's son is in the military, going off to war. A terrible. . .terrible war."
Alfred blinked rapidly, quickly looking away.
Bruce leaned forward, reaching out to offer some form of comfort to the other man, but Alfred crossed his legs and rested his chin on his fist, looking off into the darkness of the cave, a clear sign to Bruce that he didn't want that right now.
Bruce leaned back.
Clearing his throat, Alfred continued. "And, as that father, there is nothing I can do for my son, but sit at home, hoping, praying he'll make it through. . .and not wake up in the middle of the night to a knock on the door by a stranger telling me he's dead."
It was the first time Alfred had so openly discussed how he felt about what Bruce was doing. About Batman.
Bruce didn't know what to say. He honestly couldn't find words. At least, not right away. What did you say to something like that? Something so raw and humbling?
Bruce suddenly realized he needed to reevaluate Batman and the effect it was having on his family.
To be continued. . .
IMAGES IN DREAMS Author: AlfieLuv (Formally Onyx) Rating: PG-13
"You're sure you don't need any more help?" Dick asked as he was lead to the front door by Bruce.
"Positive. All the heavy work has been done. All that's left is some sweeping, dusting, and scrap that needs to be taken to the yard."
Dick sighed. "Positive?"
Bruce made a face as he handed Dick his overnight bag. "I thought you were the one who wanted freedom and independence. Not to have to be around here all the time?"
"So, you're finally admitting you're a prison running control freak?"
"Dick. . ."
Dick grinned. "Come on. You set yourself up for that one."
It was Bruce's turn to sigh. "Look, if it'll make you feel better, when the new computer parts come in, I'll call you and you can come over and put them in."
Shaking his head, the younger man opened the door. "You know I'd only be coming for Alfred's benefit." He smiled.
Bruce allowed a small smile of his own to show on his face. "Yeah. I know." Then he became a bit more serious. "I may need you in a few days for a case I'm working on. I'll call."
Dick nodded and Bruce extended a hand.
Dick accepted it, giving it a firm shake before leaning in and giving the other man a fatherly hug.
"Take care of yourself, son," Bruce murmured.
"You, too, pop," Dick responded as he stepped back with a grin. "Be sure to tell Alfred I said bye and that I'll give him a call tonight, okay?" He was still awfully worried about the older man.
Bruce nodded.
Dick secured his bag to the back of his motorcycle then hopped on and strapped on his helmet before giving Bruce a final wave and speeding away for Gotham U.
***
A couple hours later, the familiar stirring sound of the bats echoed through the cave signaling new movement.
Bruce looked up from the small computer console in the infirmary to see Alfred walking toward him with a silver tray carrying two cups of coffee.
He stood. "Alfred?"
Alfred set the tray down on a nearby table. "Sir."
Bruce took a tentative step in the other man's direction. "You alright?"
Alfred hesitated, knowing there was no point in hiding how he felt about the recent situation anymore. "I'm. . .adjusting, Sir."
Bruce frowned. "Alfred. . . Please sit down?"
"I have chores to attend to upstairs, Master Bruce, a dinner to start, laundry to—"
"Alfred," Bruce gently interrupted. "If that were really the case, why did you bring down two cups of coffee? Please sit." He pulled out a chair for the other man.
Once Alfred had reluctantly taken the seat, Bruce sat back down in his chair, facing him. "By the way, Dick said for me to say goodbye for him and to let you know he'll be calling you tonight."
"Calling me?" Alfred asked, sounding a bit surprised. "Why?"
"He's worried about you. So am I."
Alfred rubbed at his forehead. "I'm quite alright. He needn't worry like that. Nor should you. I simply. . ." He let the sentence trail off.
"You simply." Bruce nodded. "I know, Alfred. I know you're here worrying about us all the time. About me."
He took a breath and leaned back in the chair, his hands forming a triangle near his nose, the tips of his fingers touching. "Sometimes I forget how my. . . lifestyle. . .effects you."
Alfred lifted his eyes, focusing them on Bruce as the other man spoke.
"For that, I'm sorry, Alfred. But, I made a promise, I can't—"
"I know," Alfred interrupted. "It's not the promise. It's the result. Bruce. . ."
He sat up.
"I'm so proud of you. And I know your parents would be as well. Don't ever believe otherwise. It's. . .For me. . . ."
The older man sighed, trying to formulate the correct words. "I know I'm not your father, Bruce. But I can't help feeling like one to you in my heart. And when you don that cape and cowl. . .I feel like a father who's son is in the military, going off to war. A terrible. . .terrible war."
Alfred blinked rapidly, quickly looking away.
Bruce leaned forward, reaching out to offer some form of comfort to the other man, but Alfred crossed his legs and rested his chin on his fist, looking off into the darkness of the cave, a clear sign to Bruce that he didn't want that right now.
Bruce leaned back.
Clearing his throat, Alfred continued. "And, as that father, there is nothing I can do for my son, but sit at home, hoping, praying he'll make it through. . .and not wake up in the middle of the night to a knock on the door by a stranger telling me he's dead."
It was the first time Alfred had so openly discussed how he felt about what Bruce was doing. About Batman.
Bruce didn't know what to say. He honestly couldn't find words. At least, not right away. What did you say to something like that? Something so raw and humbling?
Bruce suddenly realized he needed to reevaluate Batman and the effect it was having on his family.
To be continued. . .