Martha said, "We're here, Bruce...Poppy alright with you?", and Bruce's voice responded, "Yes, Mom...Took a bit of time to arrange one of the funeral cars and all, but we found the perfect coffin...".
Poppy's voice piped up, "It's really cozy, and the wood is made from the very tree she loves, and there's little carvings of flowers. Nothing flashy or ex-extravagant, Alfred, like we promised.".
"Good...", Alfred took a deep breath. "Just arrange it for it to be brought here and then we'll take it back to the shack...", he said as he glanced at Martha.
"We got a gravestone too; they're quickly filling in the name and dates right now, but we'll be there in a few minutes.", Bruce said.
Martha replied, "Good. Since it looks like the funeral home knows the hospital well, there must be an underground private parking lot or something for the morgue to arrange discreetly with almost no people knowing that something's happening, so I'll talk with the nurse and all...Just be careful not to attract attention, even if it'd be obvious with the funeral car at first, but hopefully, it should hide things when we get the coffin out.".
Bruce said, "Yes, Mom, we will go straight to the hospital, no distractions or such, with the funeral car leading the way to this basement or whatever you mean of it, and then after...after she's settled in the funeral car, we all lead the way in our car for the driver in the funeral car to the shack. Sounds like a plan.".
"Alfred...are you going to tell us what happened on the way to the shack, or when we are alone without the funeral car and driver?", Poppy asked quietly as Martha rubbed Alfred's back, and Alfred's breath caught as he spoke, "Let me think on that, Poppy...It's a lot right now to take in...".
Poppy gave a bit of a hum, "Okay, Alfred...We will see you soon...Love you.", and Martha smiled a bit, "We love you and Bruce...", before the call ended, and she looked at Alfred, "Are...can I leave you for a moment so I can call for the nurse out of the room and tell her of the arrangements?".
"Sure. Also, would Kel be alright if she's the one... digging?", Alfred asked. "After all, she probably could do it fairly quick.". Martha smiled for a moment before nodding, "Yep, she can take care of that; we'll just find the right spot to do it...".
Alfred exhaled, "I know the right spot under her tree...Thank you...", and Martha gave him a small look, "I don't know how she did with...with the baby's remains, since Waylon definitely didn't know before...until probably now as he must have read his letter from Caroline...But we'll take some moments to rest and talk with him, and if Caroline asks in your letter to be buried together with the baby in the same spot if different coffins and all, she wouldn't be alone at least...", rubbing his back before getting up from the bench and walking to the doors to knock and call for the nurse, soon talking out of Alfred's earshot.
Sighing deeply as he traced the writing in the slightly wrinkled note, Alfred whispered, "I would never be mad at you, Caroline...I only wish I was there with you to mourn our baby...God...Four months...Did you ever get morning sickness, or secretly brought a pregnancy test?...I promise I'll read your letter for me...Knowing you, you must have tracked everything with the baby...".
He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes again, his heart filled with regret and constantly thinking what could have been or what he could've done differently.
It took about 10 minutes before it was known that the backdoor of the morgue floor was open, and it was emotionally hard for the family, but they managed to get Caroline in her coffin into the funeral car comfortably and secured after the nurse and the mortician was gentle with her body.
Martha thanked the nurse, and went to pay the bill and such before she and the others went to their rental car to lead the way for the funeral car driver to follow, not exactly rushing out from the hospital, but at the limit of the town speed without angering people in traffic, and then at a careful slow speed, especially with the approaching rough roads in the countryside outside town.
Alfred couldn't keep his eyes off the rearview mirror, determined to keep the funeral car in his sights even if Bruce and the others are watching too, and he clenched his hands on the wheel each time the funeral car passes over a pothole or something...
Poppy replied, "W-was this similar to Dad?", and Bruce nodded, "I think so...it was dark through when we brought him home before the funeral a few days later...".
Alfred exhaled, "There's a difference now, through...It's only us and Waylon...", and Poppy bit her lip, "He must be feeling awful...I'm feeling bad...It has been months since I saw him, and I'd be so relieved to see him...yet seeing him on the day of his mama's funeral, I'd be worried about him too...".
Martha looked back at her, "I know, sweetheart...Waylon would probably feel the same too. I just hope he wouldn't be too angry at Alfred here...". Poppy asked in worry and confusion, "What do you mean?".
Alfred exhaled, "The what ifs, Poppy...But there's...there's something else too...Caroline...she was going to have my baby...she lost it...", blinking back tears as his throat knotted.
"Oh...", Poppy gave a sorrowful sigh as she shook her head. She didn't want to say anything else to make things worse other than the only two words that would be the least triggering. "I'm sorry...".
"No need to apologize.", Alfred told her. "Not your fault in any way, but I thank you for your sympathy.". Bruce exhaled, "Crap...", keeping with the lowest bad word he can use around Poppy without Martha glaring at him for watching his language. "Did...was it quick?".
Alfred sighed heavily, "I don't know...All I know was that she lost it last month...and that the virus was deep in its hooks...She wrote in her note that she has a letter for me and another letter for Waylon...I'm thinking she didn't want to risk chances to raise hopes for Waylon if he knew before...before it happened...After all, she had Waylon before, yes, but now, it's different as she...she got older...".
"Do you think Waylon knew? Maybe have figured it out perhaps?", Bruce suggested as Alfred shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is I'm bringing that boy back to Gotham with us; he may have lost his mother, but he damn well isn't going to lose his father...", Alfred said as Bruce had a small smile on his face.
Alfred as a dad, after the past 10 years, he pretty much was almost a second father to him, certainly one of the finest men he ever knew.
Poppy replied, "And we're gonna have to try to get him to board a plane or something somehow...", and Martha replied, "It'd be hard to convince him, but we have to try for Caroline's sake...The caverns are a safe spot for him to get slowly used to the manor...".
Alfred gave a small smile, feeling his family's support and determination, "Thank you...", and so it was five long minutes before they recognized the familiar mailbox, and turned, keeping an eye on the funeral car behind, steadily heading to a crude parking spot not too close to the shack.
The driver was polite, respectful as he helped carry the coffin up into the porch dining table, and then the gravestone as well before giving his condolences and leaving at the reassurances of Martha that they will handle it now, departing to head back to town.
Poppy exhaled, "He's gone now, Waylon! You can come out now!", and they waited for a few moments before Bruce spoke, "Maybe he's inside his room, scared to face the reality of...of his mama being here yet not here.".
"I will check on him...Mom, Bruce, try to make some drinks or something...Alfred, are...are you going to her room?", Poppy said with a nod, looking at Alfred. Alfred glanced at the coffin that is well out of the sun, deep in the shade of the porch, and took a deep breath, "Yes...Yes, I am...We need to...to take a breather as we...we have been on our feet...I...I will decide when it's best to bury her when I'm ready...".
The others nodded, and they walked in, as Alfred headed to Caroline's room, his heart aching at the thought that she would never open the door at his knock, to smile and kiss him either in her day clothes, her bathrobe, her nightgown, or rarely, in her birthday suit.
He gently opened the door, signs of the past few days here and there with wrinkled sheets and such, showing that Waylon hadn't been in here for at least a long awhile, and his eyes locked upon a letter and a half-crotched towel...no, a baby violet purple blanket. Tears fell as he realized that Caroline must have been in the middle of crocheting the beautiful baby blanket when...when it happened last month.
Gently sitting on the bed, on Caroline's side of the bed, his one hand rubbing and caressing the sheets and blankets while he reached out a bit with his other hand to grab the letter with Alfred's name on top, in more legible, less shaky writing.
Alfred took a shaky deep breath, trying to compose himself so he can't ruin the letter, and then went to open it, to read it, to see what Caroline had composed of her pregnancy over the four months and all, including...the day she lost their baby.
Alfred took a deep breath as he opened it and started to read from the letter. 'Alfred, more than likely you're reading this, and my guess probably is that I haven't made it. Firstly, I'm deeply sorry for not telling you. I thought it might have been easier on you to have at least the shock of my death being told to you rather than you already knowing, being here with me and just watching me pass on. I don't know if you were told this by the doctors, but I also didn't want to say sooner because... the loss of our child...' Alfred closed his eyes as he tightened his grip on the paper as he started to feel the tears once more.
'I noticed perhaps around May as I was focused on canning foods and such for the summer for the first time with morning sickness...After a week of back-to-back morning sickness, that was when I realized that I didn't have the last two month's periods...Oh, May 21st was the happiest day of my life when I saw the positive sign on the pregnancy test...I counted the math, and I knew...I knew Spring Break was the conception of our baby...'
I was so excited and hopeful that I wanted to call you the amazing news by the next month after I felt and saw the growth of my belly...I wanted to make sure I was past the first trimester to tell Waylon then as I knew stories of several women around here, especially with my age...Morning sickness was awful for at least another couple weeks after I saw the sign...
God, you have no idea how it was, to hear the heartbeat by a local doctor...So strong and alive...I made sure to eat healthily, having some good exercise here and there, and careful to not carry too much heavy stuff...I dreamed about having a baby girl...with your wonderful wit and my mischievous sass...I truly had intuition that it was going to be a girl...I switched between so much features between us in my imagination, yet in the end, I knew I needed to keep her healthy and safe...
Then I heard the news that something was spreading in town, and I...I was devastated because I can't risk any of you to it, considering that you never had gotten sick here before, but I wasn't going to take chances...That day I called you...Part of me really was screaming at me to tell you...yet hearing your voice trying to convince me that you and the others care for us too much not to leave us alone in a dire situation with the sickness spreading...I don't know if it was my mood swings, my hormones, or my unfortunate habit to be so damn stubborn, but I had to urge you to stay home and all..
Our baby was growing fine and happily, and I was keeping strong and in shape, and asked Waylon to hunt and such in case as since my appetite was growing and all...I...I didn't know when I got it...It felt like a small flu, you know? Something to kick off the curb, and I'd be maybe a little more tired and weaker, but I'd be fine along with our baby...
It was normal changes...My breasts getting prepped to make milk...keeping down rare moments of nausea, increase in cravings, my belly starting to show slowly...I wore loose clothes as it was getting warmer, and all, and I think Waylon didn't notice, though he might have suspected since I was abnormally happy and less serious all the time...lots of naps here and there..
And then came the coughing and sore bones...I did home remedies and such, and they seemed to slow the bug down, but then it still persisted...I was getting a bit concerned...yet our baby kept growing, and I thought things were fine even with the coughing and sore bones...
And then came July...I was exhilarated when I saw the stretch marks again, with the baby bump bigger and then I was undecided between finding out the gender or not, and decided against it as I wanted to see your face first as we find out together...The coughs got more persistent, yet I kept strong, and the baby seemed fine as there was more growth of an inch or two of the baby bump...
I was so happy when I felt their first kicks on July 8...Then things became more worrying, but I was relieved when they kicked while I talk to them every day for at least a week and half, even if I was feeling awful and wracking over with coughs and such...And then...July 24th...I was concerned when I didn't feel them kicking, but at first, I thought they were sleeping...Waylon was out hunting...I was telling a story about you while making the blanket...And then...the pain...the horror...the blood...
Oh, Alfred...I tried so hard...I really did everything to stay healthy...But when I saw her...it was our daughter...I wished I wanted to die...She was so beautiful, even in...in death...I knew the name when I saw her...I remembered you talking about growing up in England, training up to be a household staff, your folks before moving here...How your father was named Jarvis...I named her Jane...I...I cleaned her up, I loved her so much that it hurt...You will find her in the cold pantry in her safe coffin-box, I couldn't bear to bury her...I..I wanted to keep her intact without rotting in the sun even under the earth...Bury her with me, Alfred...I want to hold her...Please give her a middle name...And she will always be a Jones-Pennyworth...She looks so much like you, even with some of myself...We will always be with you, Alfred...I love you so much...And I know she would have loved you too... This is Caroline Jones, mother of Waylon and Jane, partner of Alfred Pennyworth, and beloved friend of Martha, Kel, and aunt-figure of Bruce and Poppy, signing off...'
Alfred stared at the paper for almost a good two minutes, unmoving, practically ignoring everything around him as his mind was constantly on repeat of the mental images that she described. Of just the tragedy of it all and just how at that moment, Alfred himself wanted to die. But he knew that Caroline didn't want that for him, she wanted him to live on, to be there to bury her and their child.
He exhaled as tears came, realizing that he had a daughter...And to be named after his father too in a way...Jane...He knew the cold pantry is partly a basement and a storage area as the canned food is down there and all...
To think Caroline was so happy, and she must have been glowing and all...then it turned around on her...with the virus and the miscarriage...It must have been hell on her to keep trying and fighting since that day, because she knew she needed to live for Waylon and Alfred...but in the end, it wasn't enough...