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.