So, basically I'm not sure how much I actually like this, but the thing was in the first year I have seven sentences, and the second year has six, and the third has five and so on and so forth…
Prompt:
#10
Years
i
The first year was not that bad, all
things considered. Alfred kept expecting Bruce to wander in any
moment and ask him if he'd make him some French toast the way he
always liked it. The constant barrage of reporters was pestering, but
he knew Bruce would come back soon so he tried not to let it bother
him too much. Bruce Wayne would return any day now; he knew that. He
was just having a hard time dealing with the Joe Chill incident and
had gone out of the public eye for a while. Sometimes, Bruce just
needed to be alone; had had done it often as a child after his
parents had been murdered he just occasionally needed to isolate
himself to figure things out. He was just lying low for a while until
the frenzy surrounding the Chill murder died down, then he would come
back; Alfred was sure of it.
ii
The second year was much
harder, Bruce was still not back; the investigation was slowing down
rapidly. There had been no word at all from him(or heaven forbid
kidnappers), but Alfred was certain he would come home. Or he kept
hoping he would, at least. Alfred began gardening as a way to keep
himself occupied; he learned the best ways to store bulbs, prune
rosebushes, he learned what plants liked what soil, which ones needed
to be sheltered from the sun and which ones needed to be bathed in
it, what temperature they needed regularly, what to do in case of an
early frost, and he even managed to coax some pesky orchids into
blooming. All in all it did what he needed it to do; it kept him
occupied and he needed that. Or else he was left alone with his
thoughts.
iii
The third year Earle finally had Alfred
declare Bruce dead. It was for technical business reasons, mostly so
the bastard could try and liquidate Bruce's shareholdings, but it
had some positive effects; it made all those calls pouring in
claiming to have the next heir to the Wayne fortune stop when they
all realized there was a will. And Bruce had left everything to
Alfred. He didn't touch it, other than to set up a charity in
Bruce's name. If he had to hear one more muttered 'Butler did it'
joke when he walked by, lord help him, he could not be held
responsible for what he did…
iv
Alfred flew back home for
a funeral the fourth year. It was a nice service and after it
finished he went around the city visiting all his old haunts and
recalling what it was like to be forty years younger. In an old pub
(that he used to tell Bruce about whenever the boy had asked about
England) he thought he saw a familiar face with intense blue eyes,
but when he looked again it was gone. He prayed it wasn't a
ghost.
v
It was habit again. Alfred had a new routine: wake
up, make breakfast, read the paper, do some gardening, make lunch, go
out for a walk or drive, make diner, then go to bed. He hadn't
exactly given up hope, but he was starting to believe Bruce might not
come back.
vi
Despite his earlier claims, in the sixth
year, his heart still raced every time the phone rang. It fell just
as quickly each time when he realized the voice wasn't his.
vii
In
the seventh year-when phantom Wayne sightings grew to little more
than Elvis and alien rumors and when everyone had finally given up
hope- he came back.
