A/N: Darn you Alfred! Such a simple butler should not be so hard to write for (of course we all know that Alfred is actually the most complicated member of the Batfamily). But seriously this chapter was so much harder to write than the first three, mostly because I realized after outlining it that I don't have a clue what Alfred actually does, it's the greatest mystery of the Batman franchise.
I love all my follows/faves/reviews! Seriously, I don't think people realize just how much of my motivation comes from you guys. So thank you!
I do not own Young Justice.
Chapter 4: My Grandson
(Alfred's P.O.V)
Alfred awoke promptly at 6:00 AM, as he did every morning.
It was Sunday morning so his schedule was slightly different than normal as he did not need to wake Master Bruce so early for work.
Sitting up and putting on his slippers, Alfred walked over to his closet and dressed in one of his well tailored butler uniforms (A/N: Is there a specific name for Alfred's clothes?).
Alfred quickly performed the rest of his morning routine before exiting his room and moving on to the kitchen to start breakfast.
As he pulled out various pots and ingredients from their places he was once again struck by how quiet the manor was. Funny, a few years ago, Alfred had treasured his peaceful mornings in the kitchen, before Master Bruce and Dick woke up. Nowadays though, the manor was far too quiet.
Two years ago, a terrible incident had occurred involving the young master, and the manor had not been the same since. The boy had been the heart of the household ever since he arrived as a young boy. Since then, Alfred had come to love the boy as his own grandson, and had many memories of him in this very kitchen.
Alfred pulled a fresh pan of sausage out of the oven, placing them on a plate before picking up a spatula to flip the pancakes on the stove.
(Flashback)
A ten year old Dick stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, eyes focused, staring intently down at the cooking pancakes in front of him.
Alfred couldn't help but chuckle a bit inwardly. Master Dick had been learning how to flip pancakes, but he took to the task with the seriousness of fighting the Joker.
A seriousness that was slightly hurt by the pancake batter splattered quite literally all around him. Apparently flipping pancakes was not the cleanest thing to learn.
"Now Master Dick, simply slide the spatula underneath the pancake and flip your wrist gently."
Dick nodded as he once again slipped the spatula under the bubbling pancake.
Concentrating, he proceeded to flick his wrist jest enough to lift the pancake about an inch off the spatula before splattering back into the pan.
"Nuts," Dick wiped his face with a dish towel where some of the batter had splattered.
"I admire your willingness to experiment Master Dick, I don't believe science has yet experimented with pancake shampoo."
"You don't say, Alfred." Dick said dryly putting the towel back down.
"Try again," Alfred encouraged "with a bit more force this time."
"Okay." Dick picked up the spatula, slipped it under a different pancake, and flicked his wrist with more force.
A lot more force.
The pancake flew over Dick's head and landed with a splat-
-right on top of a scowling Bruce Wayne's head.
Dick and Alfred just stood there for a moment, staring as Bruce slowly pulled the half cooked pancake off his head.
"Should I ask?"
At the broken silence, Dick burst out laughing and even Alfred chuckled a bit.
"Sorry Bruce, too much wrist, I guess."
"Indeed," Bruce surveyed the pancake covered kitchen, "what are you doing in here anyway, this place is a mess."
Alfred spoke up, "I was just showing Master Dick how to properly flip pancakes, but he seems to have it in his head that the batter would work better as a shampoo than a breakfast."
"I see," Bruce muttered, still trying to clean the sticky, yellow goo from his hair.
"Yes, he has a theory that the combination of baking soda and egg will improve hair growth and shine."
"In that case, maybe you could use some too." Bruce muttered turning away to go shower.
"What was that Master Bruce?" Alfred asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh, nothing Alfred, I just said maybe you could use my help in the kitchen too."
"Ahh, well thank you for the offer, but I do believe I've had enough help for one day." Alfred smiled as he surveyed the destroyed kitchen.
"I'll help you clean up Alfred," Dick offer," after all I made most of this mess."
"Never apologize for the fruits of hard work Master Dick, but yes, I would appreciate your help putting everything bace to its proper place."
(End of Fashback)
Alfred sighed as he placed the finished stack of pancakes onto a plate. He hadn't thought of that day in a while, lately he'd tried not to think of anything that reminded him of Master Dick.
He had kept cleaning his room though, that was one thing he just couldn't bring himself to stop. He wasn't sure if Master Bruce was aware, nor was he was not sure how he would react so he didn't mention it too him.
Master Bruce hadn't been the same since the young master... changed. He slept less, ate less, certainly laughed less. However, the biggest change had been in his work as the Batman.
The day Master Bruce left his own son to Arkham, Batman had gone on a rampage. He interrogated every criminal in Gotham, from Joker to Catwoman, on the murders, neglecting almost every other case. He was certain his son had been framed. He would go for days without sleeping, rarely ever leaving the cave, watching that video, reviewing evidence, searching the boy's room, looking for anything he might have missed.
He came up empty every time.
He'd become so obsessed with proving Dick's innocence that it was six months before he realized he hadn't gone to see Dick since.
However, when he called Arkham to check on 'Renegade's' progress, he was told that the boy was in a critical part of his treatment, and that the psychologist believed any outside contact, especially, from Batman would do serious harm to his mental state.
So, for Dick's sake, Master Bruce stayed away.
Alfred knew for a fact Master Bruce regretted that decision more than anything, perhaps he thought that if he had gone to see him, talked to him, then things wouldn't have turned out as they did.
It took a full year for Master Bruce to come to his senses. To realize that he had a city to protect, and this pointless searching wasn't going to bring Dick back to him.
The day he gave up on Dick's innocence was a dark day for Gotham. The Batman went on a tear that ended almost every criminal he met in the hospital with serious wounds. Ever since, the Batman had gotten more violent, even the press had commented on it.
Alfred had tried to keep some of the life in the manor, but Master Bruce had descended back into the darkness he had lived in before the young acrobat came to the manor and this time, the english butler had no idea how to pull him out of it. So he stuck to his routine and tried to maintain a sense of normalcy in the household, seeking to provide comfort wherever he could.
Pushing away the memories of those dark days, Alfred placed the finished breakfast in the oven to keep it warm whilst he waited for Master Bruce to awaken.
Alfred decided to check the Batcave to make sure Master Bruce wasn't pulling one of his famous all-nighters again.
Of course, when he got down to the cave he saw that Master Bruce was not at the computer console nor anywhere else. He couldn't hear anything either, nothing but the occasional drip of water and the squeaking of bats.
Then again, bats don't usually… cry?
Concerned, Alfred followed the strange whimpering sounds down to the lower levels of the cave. Yet, as he drew closer and to the holding cells, he started to doubt his mission. If Batman had some villain imprisoned down here, then Alfred should stay away lest he give away Batman's true identity. But, something about the desperate sounds below him, something lost, urged him on.
Trying to remain undetected, just in case, Alfred peeked around the corner only to discover the sounds were indeed coming from a small lump on the bed.
The person's back was to Alfred so he left the shadows to get a better look. As he drew closer, the small whimpers tuned into words.
"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real"
That voice. Alfred recognized that voice. It was the voice of a small child whom he comforted after nightmares.
It was Master Richard.
Before he could think, he was inside the cell, sitting next to the shivering lump on the bed.
"Master Richard?"
He gently placed a hand on the boy's back, trying to calm him to the point of coherency.
"Master Richard, are you alright?"
Dick didn't give any indication that he knew Alfred was even there. He just pressed his hands against his ears harder, his words gaining an edge of hysteria.
"It's not real. It's not real."
Alfred was at a loss as to what to do, and began to have serious doubts about whether or not he should be there.
"I assure you Master Dick, I am quite real. Perhaps you should take some deep breaths."
Alfred wasn't sure if it was his words or the calming hand on his back, but slowly Dick began to uncover his ears and his sobs began to give way to hiccups.
Slowly he turned his head, blue eyes wet and puffy.
"A-Alfie?"
"Yes Master Dick, I'm right here."
"Where? Where am I?"
Now Alfred was worried, placing his hand to the boy's forehead, he found it burning with fever.
Realizing the boy was still waiting for an answer, Alfred huridly picked up the abandoned blanket from it's place on the bed and wrapped it around Dick's shivering frame.
"You're home Master Dick, you need to relax."
"H-home?" Dick shifted closer to Alfred. "W-where's *hic* Bruce?"
Now that is an excellent question, Alfred thought. Where was Master Bruce? Why did he leave Master Dick all alone in the cave when he was obviously sick? Furthermore, why was Master Dick here at all?
A small movement next to him pulled Alfred from his thoughts as Dick's head slowly dropped so that it rested on Alfred's lap, body still twitching with the occasional hiccup or whimper.
Well, one thing's for certain, Alfred was taking him out of this cell immediately and up to a room where he could care for the boy properly.
Wrapping one of Dick's arms around his shoulders and placing his own arm around the fevered teen's waist. Alfred stood, which thankfully roused Master Dick just enough to walk with Alfred to the elevator and up to the manor.
Still no sign of Master Bruce, Alfred brought the boy to the stairs and began the long climb up.
"Alfred!"
The stately butler did not jump, although he probably would have if his companion hadn't chosen that moment to go limp at his side, putting all his weight on Alfred.
Alfred raised his head to meet the eyes of his longtime employer and friend, who was staring back with icy blue eyes.
"What, exactly, do you think you're doing?"
Alfred's eyes narrowed at the tone, "merely taking the young master upstairs to rest in a proper room." He continued up the stairs, past Bruce.
"Alfred-"
"I will speak with you in a minute, Master Bruce."
Alfred turned to continue his struggle up the stairs when all of a sudden, his burden lightened considerably. Thinking Master Dick had reawakened, Alfred looked to his right only to find the boy still unconscious. Instead, Master Bruce had come up behind them and put Dick's other arm around his shoulders, taking most of the wait.
Neither one said anything, the only sounds were their footsteps and Dick's labored breathing.
With Master Bruce's help, it only took about five minutes to get the boy into his old bedroom. Alfred tucked him in before going and getting a cool washcloth to put on the boy's forehead. Master Bruce returning to stand awkwardly in the doorway until Alfred was satisfied and left the boy to rest, closing the door behind him.
Alfred faced Bruce with his arms crossed, fixing him with a glare that could make grown men remember every infraction of the rules they had committed since the age of six.
"Now Master Bruce, I want to know what you were thinking, keeping a sick boy in a jail cell and not informing me of his presence."
Bruce swallowed thickly, but before he could answer Alfred interrupted with one last question.
"And why did you take him out of Arkham in the first place?"
Bruce raised his eyes, "that I can answer, I went to interview him yesterday over the recent string of murders."
"I thought you said they were unrelated."
"I didn't think so, but now I can't rule out any possibilities, plus the victims appear to be identical in every way. Anyway, I went to see him and he was... like that. I-I couldn't in good conscience leave him there."
"But you can, in good conscience, leave him alone in a cell meant for a criminal down in that God forsaken cave!"
"What was I supposed to do Alfred! He's a murderer, or... was at least."
(Flashback)
Alfred stood watching Master Bruce at the Batcave computer, once again reviewing the evidence from the latest string of horrific murders.
Right now, Bruce had the computer running a DNA test on the skin flakes he found underneath the most recent victim's fingernails. A young mother, who'd apparently died trying to protect her three-month-old son. She hadn't been able to save her son, but by fighting like she did, she succeeded in giving Batman solid proof of who killed her.
Alfred walked closer to vigilante taking in his disheveled appearance - rugged chin, dirty hair, and dark bags under his eyes. This case was really taking it's toll on Master Bruce. He stayed up terribly late, and sometimes didn't sleep at all, trying to find a lead in this case.
"Anything Master Bruce?"
"We'll know when the results come in from that test Alfred."
As if on cue, the computer beeped and a synthesized voice came out of the speakers.
"DNA test completed. Conduct search for a match?"
Bruce clicked 'yes' on the computer screen and they both waited with baited breath for the loading bar to fill.
The computer beeped once again, "match found."
Both parties watched the computer, but their hopeful expressions melted into disbelief and horror quickly upon seeing the image and name on the screen.
"Impossible," Master Bruce's eyes were wide "their must be a glitch in the program."
"Of course sir"
"I'll get to the bottom of this Alfred, don't worry. Why don't you go to bed?"
Alfred was reluctant to go, but figured a bit of sleep couldn't hurt. Perhaps this whole situation would make more sense in the morning.
Just then the computer beeped again.
"Incoming video file, Unknown sender"
Alfred moved to stay, but Bruce stopped him.
"Go on Alfred, I'll look this over and get back to you in the morning."
"Very well, goodnight Master Bruce, try to get some sleep yourself."
With that, Alfred turned and walked up the stairs.
As he exited the cave he narrowly avoided running in to Master Dick who was just about to come through the door.
"Master Dick, what are you doing down here so late?" Alfred tried to keep his voice neutral, not letting any of his earlier shock affect his tone.
"Oh, I was just putting this back," he explained indicating his utility belt still around his waist. "I was experimenting with ways to conceal it better under civilian clothing without having to carry that duffel bag around. Didn't work out too well so I'm just going to put it back with the rest of my costume."
"Oh I see, well I'm not sure Master Bruce wishes to be disturbed right now." Alfred thought back to their most recent piece of 'evidence.'
"It's okay Alfie, I'll be quick. He won't even know I'm there."
"Very well then Master Dick, but hurry."
"Thanks Alfie" Dick smiled and walked past Alfred into the cave.
As he passed, Alfred laid a hand on his shoulder, "you know Master Bruce is very proud of your devotion to the city."
Dick gave him an odd look at the random compliment but smiled nonetheless. "Yes Alfred, I know." With that he continued down the stairs.
But Alfred had seen what he needed, stalling the boy to get a better look, there were three not too deep scratches on his upper arm, visible once Alfred raised his shirt sleeve a bit, that looked suspiciously like...
...fingernail scratches.
A coincidence, it had to be. Master Dick could have gotten those scratches any number of ways. Shaking his head, Alfred continued to his room.
If only he had known, perhaps they could've avoided what happened next.
"Proud of me?"
(End of Flashback)
Alfred said nothing.
"Look, I don't know what else to do Alfred. He's my son and I love him, but I just can't trust him right now. I can't figure out what's going on. At best he's insane, and at worst this is all an act and he's going to disappear the moment I turn my back!"
The two stood staring at each other for a while, neither knowing what to say.
Finally, Alfred broke the silence.
"Well Master Bruce, while I cannot tell you what to do about all those questions I can answer this one with certainty." He paused to ensure that Master Bruce was listening. "No grandson of mine will ever stay in a cell at Wayne Manor as long as I am here."
A/N: Let's all give Alfred a hand, the only person who can tell Bruce what to do. And that's the end of the first, and most likely last, Alfred chapter in this story. However he did bake a batch of cookies for some special people!
Guest of honor: Can't tell you the ending, and spoil my fun, but I will say that I think you'll be happy when you get there. Also, I love reading your theories :) Thanks for the reviews.
Christine: Because the real Batman has been abducted by aliens (JK!) Thanks for reviewing.
SpeechlessMind: You win best reviewer, seriously the longer the better. Nice to know someone enjoys my evil voices. I think they're my favorite character because they're so easy to write, gotta love two word sentences ;) Thanks for the review.
thebats24: Yep, I've pulled Wally into this insanity. Although I almost didn't tag him in it 'cause I didn't want to give anything away. Thanks for the review.
Guardian of Loyalty: I know I'm evil, don't hold it against me ;) Thanks for the review.
Hope to see you all next time! (Reviewers get a free hug from Dick)