The first thing Bruce noticed once he awoke from unconsciousness was that his entire body was aching. He felt very weak and tired, as if all his energy had been drained.

His second thought was the following:

I should not be alive.

He managed to open his eyes with great difficulty and blinked slowly to chase away the fog obscuring his vision, finding himself staring directly at the ceiling of the cave.

How the hell am I here?

The billionaire tried to open his mouth to speak his butler's name but he burst into a violent coughing fit, wincing when he felt his ribs protest at the mere movement.

They are definitely broken and cracked.

"Don't overexert yourself, Master Bruce. Your health is at stake."

Bruce's tense muscles relaxed at the familiar voice and he shifted his gaze to the side, staring at Alfred's face that hinted at a slight smile, clearly relieved. The younger man frowned at the more visible wrinkles present on his father figure's face and felt the familiar sensation of guilt and shame consume his stomach and he did his best to once again ignore that feeling that had become increasingly familiar but never less uncomfortable in recent years.

"Would you like a glass of water, sir?"

Bruce merely nodded, not wanting to strain his voice any more than necessary, and the butler left and returned seconds later with a glass in his hand. Alfred brought the glass close to the billionaire's lips and he drank the water slowly but eagerly, a faint groan escaping his throat at the cool, quenching feeling of his thirst.

Once finished drinking, the hero licked his chapped lips and met the expectant gaze of the older man. "W-What happened?" he asked, not too surprised at how very hoarse his voice had sounded.

Alfred tightened his lips into a straight line and fixed his son with a look the other man could not identify. "While you were facing Two Face you were ambushed and other Scarecrow henchmen joined in the battle along with himself. You were clearly outnumbered but, despite being alone and under the effects of the fear toxin, you managed to take down about 30 armed men. However, you suffered numerous serious wounds and due to both excessive blood loss and the effects of the fear toxin, Dent and Crane managed to defeat you."

"H-How am I still alive?"

"Honestly, it's a real miracle, sir." Alfred admitted with a weary sigh, the dark bags under his eyes much more pronounced than usual. "Your injuries were numerous and very serious. You suffered everything: gunshots, stabbings, broken and cracked ribs, broken bones, concussions, cuts and scrapes and more. While Dr. Thompkins and I were restabilizing you, we lost you once." he swallowed, straightening his shoulders. "I thought you couldn't make it, Master Bruce." he affirmed, his voice cracking slightly at the confession.

Bruce winced inwardly, feeling guilty for worrying Alfred so much. One part of himself, the part that looked suspiciously like his smaller self whose only constant was the butler himself, mentally cursed himself for being responsible for aggravating Alfred's life so much and for continuing to worry him while another part of himself, the cold and impassive Batman part, whispered to him that if he actually died Alfred would have his greatest burden lifted off him.

The billionaire ignored both voices and winced as he swallowed with difficulty, the only movement causing him twinges of pain. "How long w-was I out?"

"You have been unconscious for almost a week."

Bruce's heart lost a beat, which was audible even on the heart rate monitor to which he was connected. "Gotham-"

"Don't even start, Master Bruce." Alfred interrupted him in a sharp voice and Bruce immediately fell silent, being able to count on the fingers of one hand all the times the older man had ever interrupted him in his entire life. "Gotham has been quiet the last few days. Currently it can be fine on its own. You cannot go back out there in your current condition: you would not even be able to safely pilot your vehicle. You will have to recover first and have your most serious injuries heal. Dr. Thompkins recommended a minimum of one month's rest."

The billionaire opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut again as his father figure fixed him with a hard stare.

"This time I will personally make sure that you follow the doctor's orders. As for Gotham, you can always ask Mr. Kent to fill your role."

Bruce frowned. "No. No meta in Gotham."

"Good. Then it looks like the city will be without a protector for a month."

The younger man's frown increased further but he decided to remain silent, knowing he could not win this argument. He asked the question that had been afflicting and consuming him ever since he awoke. "Who saved me?"

He watched as the other man's gaze locked into a stoic, impassive facade. "I don't know. Somehow your savior managed to initially take care of your injuries, contact the vehicle to put you inside it and activate the autopilot directed toward the cave. That's how the automobile entered the cavern on its own and I started preparing the infirmary and calling Dr. Thompkins when I learned of your very critical and precarious state."

Bruce's jaw contracted in anger and annoyance. "Whoever this savior is not only knows the location of the cave but most likely also knows my civilian identity."

Worst of all was that in recent years Batman had found himself on the verge of death many times but each time inexplicably he managed to survive, waking up wounded and in pain but alive in the cave. Most likely his savior was always the same but what frustrated the vigilante most was that he knew absolutely nothing about them and could never find a single clue about the one who saved his life.

Not even by questioning the criminals who had taken him down could he extract any useful information from them. Either they did not remember them or they were far more afraid of them than of the Caped Crusader himself.

Bruce had many questions and zero answers about the stranger who kept saving his life.

"I think the most important thing is that this stranger saved your life." Alfred stated stiffly. "It is only because of it that Gotham's protector was not found dead by some ordinary citizen inside a hospital that had been abandoned for decades. Or dead years ago."

"I need to see the cowl footage. Perhaps it recorded something that can be related to the identity of the stranger."

"I have already taken care of this and I regret to inform you that the cowl recording pertaining to the time period after you were knocked down by Two Face has been deleted, sir."

An involuntary growl escaped the vigilante's throat. "Again? How the hell is it possible for the stranger to get past all the cowl security systems I keep updating periodically?"

"I don't know, Master Bruce." Alfred shook his head, confusion filling his gaze. "I suggest you rest and postpone your willingness to investigate the identity of your savior."

"Hn." Bruce grunted disgruntled but knew that, at least on that occasion, it would be best to obey the older man.

Most likely Alfred would have drugged him if he had not obeyed his barely concealed order.

Alfred gave a sigh and cast a weary glance at the figure of Master Bruce who had just fallen asleep. His heart clenched painfully as he observed the clearly distressed and stressed features of the younger man even as he slept.

He was aware of how in recent years his charge had lost all instinct for self-preservation. In fact, he had lost it since his inception as Batman now more than a decade ago.

The billionaire was doing nothing to prevent himself from dying: he would suffer any blow that would be easy for him to dodge. It was painfully clear that Master Bruce had suicidal tendencies and Alfred felt every fiber of his being suffer greatly to see his son in anything but blood in this condition that he did not care at all about dying; in fact, most likely Master Bruce hoped to die during his patrols.

Alfred felt sick every time he stitched up the many wounds Batman brought back, especially seeing the billionaire's indifferent and detached gaze, so different from that bright, innocent and sunny child that the butler missed so much but unfortunately by now that child was only a distant memory, dead along with his parents on that damned night in Crime Alley and replaced by a much darker and colder version.

The butler hated with all his being the darkness surrounding his son and devouring and consuming him from within until he remained an empty shell filled with so much darkness, loneliness, suffering and sadness that it hurt just to look at.

The thing that hurt him the most, however, was the knowledge that he could do absolutely nothing to save Master Bruce's life and set him back on a more enlightened path. That, and also knowing that neither himself nor anyone else was not enough for the younger man, hurt quite a bit.

Alfred could do nothing but watch his son fall apart day by day until there would be nothing left of him but an empty shell dominated by anger, coldness, darkness, loneliness and revenge. The only thing he could do was to stitch up his wounds -which increased night by night- with a knowing and sad look.

Witnessing personally how each day Batman was becoming his true self while Bruce Wayne his mask hurt greatly. In recent years the billionaire's public appearances had dropped considerably to virtually zero.

Master Bruce had not attended a gala in years now.

Getting him out even for a walk in the garden was a miracle as well as getting him to eat and sleep.

In fact, Alfred often found himself forced to drug what little food his charge ate.

Having personally seen his son die and knowing that he had died another time shortly before about a week ago...

He did not want to think about it again, even though he had already had nightmares about it.

Thank God for Renegade.

Alfred did not know why the young mercenary was so interested in continually saving Batman's life, but whatever the reason, he was grateful.

In fact, in recent years Renegade had saved Master Bruce's life so many times that the butler had now lost count.

Of course, the first time Renegade had saved Batman's life by carrying his unconscious figure directly into the cave Alfred did not trust him at all and it increased when it was obvious that the assassin knew the Dark Knight's civilian identity aka the world's greatest mystery.

However, the British man was too busy saving Master Bruce's life to properly interrogate the younger man.

Subsequently, Renegade had provided him with the necessary frequency to contact him on his communicator, practically ordering the older man to call him whenever the hero was in mortal danger. He had told him that he would drop anything and run immediately to Gotham to save the Caped Crusader.

This was on one condition: that Batman would never know that Renegade was his secret savior.

In fact, the assassin each time would erase every single piece of evidence of his involvement in saving the vigilante's life by erasing every trace of recording from all cameras, including the one built into Batman's cowl.

Alfred was horrified by the ease with which Renegade erased the recordings from Batman's cowl for the first time and by his hacking skills in general that far exceeded those of the Dark Knight himself. And not only that but Renegade could even easily manipulate footage from camera recordings to his liking, including those in the cave, in such a perfect way that was genuinely scary and fascinating at the same time.

This explained how the mercenary was every time able to fool even the best detective in the world.

When the British man had asked the younger man why he did not want Master Bruce to know that he was the one who saved his life, Renegade remained silent and never gave him an answer.

That was the first and only time the butler had asked him that specific question.

The first time Alfred had contacted him was because Batman had found himself in the middle of a confrontation between a number of gangs, including the more dangerous ones of Black Mask, Carmine Falcone and Penguin. The vigilante was clearly outnumbered, especially when the criminal gangs had decided to put aside their discord momentarily and join forces to kill the Bat.

Once Alfred had learned this, he had not hesitated to contact Deathstroke's then-apprentice and to his enormous surprise and shock the young mercenary after a few minutes -during which time Batman had been shot down and Alfred had begun to pray for his life- was already in Gotham.

Alfred suspected that somehow the mercenary had zeta-tube technology at his disposal but was not sure.

In any case, from a camera Alfred had personally witnessed the vicious, bloody, brutal massacre that Renegade carried out against the gangs and, even a man as stoic and imperturbable as he, was somewhat sickened by what the assassin was capable of doing.

His mind whispered to him that at that time Renegade was younger than he is now and was still under the training of Deathstroke and potentially others and that he had probably been holding back a lot.

He was very scared and fearful of what Renegade was now capable of doing if he operated at his 100%.

He honestly did not want to find out and decided to put that thought aside.

He was a little surprised when he saw that Renegade had not killed anyone, even though he had caused permanent injuries to the vast majority of criminals in the form of mutilation, permanent neck and spine damage, etc.

Later, once all evidence of Renegade's involvement had been erased by threatening even every single criminal -especially the leaders of the gangs: Black Mask, Penguin and Carmine Falcone- barely left alive, and after urgently transporting Batman to the cave to stabilize him, Alfred asked Renegade why he had not killed any criminals when that was his modus operandi.

"That's my modus operandi, not Batman's. Gotham is Batman's city." Renegade had answered him only to give a shark-like grin. "Besides, we are now sure that virtually none of them will engage in criminal activity again."

Initially Alfred was very skeptical and wary about the whole situation but he could not deny the operational efficiency of the mercenary who kept his promise and from then on he began to trust Renegade, hoping and praying that he was making the right choice and not a deal with the Devil.

The confidence that he was making the right choice increased each time he contacted Renegade who continued to continually save Batman's life to the point that for a few years now Alfred placed the utmost trust in the mercenary.

It was true that Alfred knew virtually nothing about Renegade, let alone his civilian identity, but that was fine with him if it meant having the world's current second deadliest mercenary on his side who would do anything to keep the Caped Crusader alive, despite his suicidal tendencies and lack of self-preservation instincts.

Moreover, over the past few years Alfred had gotten to know Renegade on a character level and had come to the conclusion that despite everything, despite being the second deadliest mercenary in the world, despite being one of the most dangerous people in the world, he was still a kid.

A kid who still hadn't even reached the age of majority.

Not only that but Renegade was a good kid: in a way he reminded Alfred of the version of Master Bruce from so many years ago, when Master Thomas and Mistress Martha were still alive.

Renegade reminded him of the childlike Master Bruce: sunny, playful, full of life and light.

Almost certainly Renegade had suffered so much at the hands of something or someone that drove him to become what he currently was.

A living weapon.

It was painfully clear from his movements, skills, abilities, instincts and reactions.

Alfred's heart clenched painfully at the mere thought of what hell the young man had to go through.

Renegade was so young. He was just a kid.

All this only strengthened Alfred's confidence and positive opinion of Renegade to the point that he began to see him as a kind of grandson. Hence the fact that he began to ascribe to him the title of Master, reserved only for the Wayne family and consequently for those whom Alfred considered to be family.

The kid awakened grandfather instincts in Alfred that he did not even know he had.

And so it was that an alliance was born between Renegade and Alfred whose relationship between the two became from strangers to allies -reliant on the part of the butler- to friends and finally to grandfather and grandson.

Alfred would take their secret to the grave: he would never reveal it to anyone, not even to Master Bruce.

It was true that Renegade probably would not have stopped saving Batman's life if Alfred ever confessed it to Master Bruce but in any case the butler would never have betrayed the trust so precious that Renegade reposed in him.

Alfred owed it to the mercenary that he would always put everything he was doing on the back burner to keep saving Batman's life.

Renegade was truly a godsend. He was like a kind of guardian angel of Master Bruce in a decidedly different version than normal but still.

Alfred distracted himself from his thoughts and looked sadly at the sleeping figure of his son. He sat in a chair that he had placed beside the medical bed and squeezed his son's hand, determined never to leave him, no matter what.

"Did you hear that Crane and Dent were brought back to Arkham Asylum?"

"Yes. I heard that Crane was not only beaten but fell victim to his own fear toxin while Dent was so bloody, badly beaten and roasted that he will have to stay in a full cast for a minimum of three months."

"You know it wasn't the Bat that did that to them?"

"I suspected it. It was Renegade, wasn't it?"

"That's right."

A snort. "Honestly, that guy is the biggest threat I've ever encountered. Remember how years ago he gathered literally all of us Gotham crazies together and threatened us not to seriously injure and kill Batman or innocents or the other heroes?"

"How to forget that. It was amazing how we all managed not to kill each other."

A low chuckle. "True. Besides, Renegade had said that the only reason he would not kill us was because he respected the Bat's territory and would respect his rules but if Batman were ever to be killed-"

"-Renegade would no longer have any reason to continue respecting the Bat's rules and would start killing in Gotham without hesitation even outside the contracts, starting with those who would kill the Bat and continuing with the criminals in Arkham Asylum who are still in business."

"His threat was so effective that, along with his usual motivational speeches as a charismatic leader, it led some Gotham crazies like the two of us, Pamela, Harleen and Victor to stop committing crimes and to seriously begin our journey of rehabilitation to be better people."

"That guy has wrapped a good part of the Gotham Rogues Gallery around his little finger. We haven't been committing crimes or wreaking havoc in Gotham for years now."

"Not only Renegade is very dangerous but he is also a good guy with a heart of gold. He is a very good friend, one of the best I could have asked for. For him I would eat anyone alive who even dares to threaten him."

"Just as I would break them and just as others would be very protective of the boy. Renegade is really a sort of nephew to all of us. I don't understand how Crane, Dent, Cobblepot, Sionis and Nygma and the others don't like and hate Renegade. I mean, I understand the others that most of them are really crazy, without even mentioning the Joker, but still."

"That's simply because they are idiots, crazy or both," the comment drew an amused laugh. "He could very well easily take over the world, now that I think about it. It's definitely frightening as a thing."

"If Renegade ever does that, the world would be a better place with him in charge."

"I agree. Your turn: this time I will finally kick your ass in cards, Bane."

"In your dreams, Waylon."