AN: Welcome to the first of my AUs for "The Body Keeps the Score!" This one doesn't technically require knowledge of the original, but it would probably help. I estimate this one will be about 7 chapters. Enjoy!
Tim is something special, Alfred concludes.
When the boy had first shown up on the Wayne Manor doorstep, talking about urgency and importance and needing to see Bruce, Alfred had been completely ready to dismiss Tim without another thought. They had been grieving. They still are grieving. They hadn't needed anything added to their plates.
Then Tim had brought up the very one they were all grieving. Tim had mentioned Jason. And, perhaps against his own better judgment at that moment, Alfred decided to let Tim in, hoping not to regret doing so.
Now, Alfred is so very glad he did so.
Tim had evidently put together the truth behind the Wayne family's nighttime activities, and Tim had confronted Bruce with the evidence of Batman's activities becoming more dangerous, both for Bruce and for Gotham. It was a message about the very problem Alfred had been trying to communicate to Bruce himself, but coming from Tim, and coming with an option for how to fix it, the message evidently made it through.
It wasn't just the message, though. Bruce had confided in Alfred, and also in Dick despite their arguments, that Bruce was concerned about Tim. The way that Tim had figured out Bruce's identity as Batman was apparently by following Batman and Robin through the streets for years. The idea was… Bruce was correct to be concerned from the beginning, to say the least. Now, they are all concerned.
Bruce shows his concern by allowing Tim to be Robin, so that Bruce can keep an eye on him. Dick shows his concern by visiting the Manor far more frequently and keeping his own eye on Tim, along with inviting Tim to do as many fun things as Tim will agree to. As Alfred himself, he shows his concern the way he knows best: serving.
Even if Tim doesn't seem to want to be served.
It's puzzling. The Drakes are a well-off family, although not as high-up as the Waynes and not for as long, but they are definitely more than comfortable in their finances. In addition, unlike the Waynes, they have nothing to hide. They must certainly have some kind of staff on hand, and Tim must have interacted with them a multitude of times. And yet, Tim always seems so surprised when Alfred offers him anything.
When Alfred tries to take Tim's backpack or jacket to put away for him, Tim backs up, acting almost startled.
When Alfred provides Tim with water bottles or towels after a training session, Tim stammers and ducks his head low.
When Alfred supplies snacks or full meals for Tim, Tim looks shocked, his eyes widening, his shoulders slumping, and his cheeks reddening.
It's perplexing to Alfred. He muses on it relatively frequently, finding his mind returning to the topic many times. It's where his mind is now as he cooks dinner, a larger dinner than usual. Bruce's appetite has strengthened back to its normal near-insatiability, a far cry from the meager way he'd pick at food shortly after Jason's passing, a fact that makes Alfred's heart sing and ache in turns. Tim, while not a very enthusiastic eater, will hopefully be joining them for the meal, and even Dick is in town for the weekend, having arrived the previous night and planning to stay another night to leave on Sunday.
With the addition of Tim, the Manor feels, if not wholly full and lively, at least like it's on its way to getting there.
Speaking of Tim…
Alfred pops the last dish in the oven and reconfigures the timer. He heads through the kitchen toward the doorway, stepping with a partly-fond, partly-annoyed sigh around a pair of shoes which are halfway tucked up against the wall. Even after years of trying, Alfred just cannot seem to get Dick to keep all of his belongings where they actually belong. It is another sign of life and liveliness, Alfred reminds himself, and for that, he will be grateful as he continues on his way.
It is just as he suspected. As he peeks into the study, Alfred sees Tim hovering near the grandfather clock that serves the Cave entrance. The boy looks uncertain, shifting from one foot to the other. He also looks tired. The slight droop of his eyelids gives that impression immediately, but as Alfred looks in, Tim also cracks his jaw open in a yawn.
"Master Tim," Alfred says quietly, hoping not to make Tim jump.
Tim jumps anyway. "Oh!"
"Master Tim," Alfred says again, trying to sound reassuring as he steps into the study. "I see that you are taking a brief rest break."
"I don't need to be," Tim says, taking a step closer to the grandfather clock. "I can get back down there if I'm in your way, I can-"
"Nothing of the sort. Taking breaks is an important aspect of training," Alfred says. He adopts an overly-exaggerated tone of exasperation. "Now, if I could only get Master Bruce to understand that."
Tim smiles a tiny bit.
Alfred takes that as a success. The boy needs to smile more. "Would you happen to want a small bite to eat or drink?"
Tim shakes his head. "I'm good. Thank you. I don't want to bother you."
"It would not be a bother," Alfred says.
"I'm good," Tim says again. "I'm supposed to go back into training in the next couple of minutes or so, anyway."
Alfred thinks for a moment. "Nutrition is important to training as well, you know. I am certain Master Bruce and Master Dick would appreciate knowing that you are making appropriate efforts toward training outside of formal sessions."
Tim hesitates, then he nods. "But I only have a few minutes until I'm supposed to go back down. Is that okay?"
With a smile, Alfred says, "I will hurry and fetch you some refreshments."
Alfred turns and heads out at a mild pace, but he hastens his steps once out of Tim's range of vision and hearing. If Tim only has a short while to eat, Alfred will make the most of it.
Bustling into the kitchen, Alfred hurries here and there, selecting several different items that are relatively quick and easy to eat.
He turns quickly, reaching to grab a cup for some juice, but his foot lands much sooner than it should.
His foot lands on something that isn't the floor.
The not-floor item gives way under his foot, sliding quickly across the floor. Alfred's foot slides quickly with it.
Hands flying out, Alfred grasps desperately for something to keep himself upright.
Before either hand can connect, his side connects with the floor.
The world disappears for a moment, replaced by whiteness and silence and agony. His eyes are open, but he sees nothing. A sharp scream escapes him, he's sure it does, he can feel his throat rasp and his breath fly out, but he doesn't hear it at first.
He's back to reality soon enough, staring at a crooked ceiling and part of a wall, hearing his own scream echo out of the kitchen. The shock of pain is overwhelming, slicing through his body. It radiates out from his hip.
A harsh sound, a mix between a sob and a sigh, hisses out from his lips. He sucks in a deep breath and tries to call out, but another sob-sigh comes out instead.
Alfred doesn't know how much time passes as he lies there. It can't be very long, because none of the oven timers go off, but it feels like an hour, a day, a month, a lifetime.
"Alfred!"
Tim.
It's Tim.
Trying to instruct Tim to get help, all Alfred can manage to get out is a series of ever-shakier breaths.
"Alfred," Tim says again, skidding into the kitchen and collapsing next to him. Tim's face is more drawn than Alfred's ever seen it, like the boy is wearing a mask of horror. "Oh, oh, are you okay?"
Alfred gives a groan and tries to raise his eyebrows to communicate that no, he is clearly not okay, but he can barely feel his face twitch through the sheer pain.
Tim reaches out, his hands trembling. He pulls back, hesitates, and then reaches out again, saying with a wavering voice, "I'll help you get up, okay?"
Alfred shakes his head urgently. Whatever has happened, and he suspects a complete fracture, he should not be moved without professional medical help. Doing anything else will only cause more pain, now and later and-
Tim's hand brushes against Alfred's forearm in preparation to try to help him up.
And the pain vanishes, as instantly as it appeared.