Dick blinked and, from the night blackened window, his sleepy reflection blinked back. Dawn was still a couple hours away, but he was up. It was just easier. He was sitting alone, slumped over the breakfast nook table in the kitchen, his chin resting on his folded arms. The manor was so quiet. Nowadays he often forgot how much he enjoyed that eerie comfort until he'd come home from life in a dorm. When he first arrived as a boy it had been so intimidating, almost suffocating. But that was grief and newness and fear. That was before.
After these last few days quiet was all Dick wanted. He was pretty sure the toxin had finally cleared his system, but he was frankly kind of terrified to get his adrenaline pumping again just yet. Bruce was out on patrol tonight without him. That was Dick's choice. He was still "getting there."
The light above the oven cast a warm glow across the massive kitchen. It was the only one on and the shadows it created were soft, friendly things. There wasn't much in this room that Dick didn't find friendly though. It had always been the warm spot of Wayne Manor. If he needed a place to hide, to just breathe, during fancy parties most notably, this was it. But in general, it was just the place where a hot cup of tea and an encouraging word would always come to find him. It was Alfred's domaine. Well the whole place was really, but this kitchen always felt like Alfred's office to Dick, his command center. He had so many memories of just being in there with him. It was the cradle of so many conversations, both cheerful and sullen. So often he'd sat on the counter chatting as Alfred washed dishes. Sometimes he'd help out, but Alfred rarely allowed it. It's where he had taught Dick to bake his favorite cookie recipe and told him crazy stories from Bruce's childhood to level the playing field when he deemed it necessary. It was the place for early morning coffee and late night tea, yelling matches and rumbling laughter. It was the neutral ground, upon which Alfred's word was law and both the bull headed and hot headed alike relented. It was the place where Dick had cried after learning Haly's had finally left town, when it really hit him that his parents weren't coming back. That memory always stung but it was also his touchstone. It was the one forever reminding him he was loved. No matter what went down under that roof, under that foundation or out on the streets, good or bad, that memory was everything. It was the moment he was given a second family, odd though it was. He remembered Bruce holding him by the side door, golden hour light gleaming through the window. He remembered burying his face into his huge shoulder, gentle circles on his back, and Alfred's hushed voice saying something kind to him.
Dick took deep breath and let it out slowly. Goosebumps rose on his arms as the image of Batman falling again flashed across his thoughts. It had almost been his worst moment lived all over again. All the pieces had been there; a fall he was helpless to stop, nothing in his ears but his own scream, and the crushing knowledge that it was his fault. Logically he understood the reality, but it just felt… so bad! And on top of it Scarecrow had paralyzed him using his joy as the activating ingredient. That made him feel like he'd been robbed and robber had stood over his bed and watched him first before leaving. A shudder ran through his whole body. Tea. He needed tea.
The little roar of the stove flame helped. It sounded like a tiny lion trying to scare off his thoughts. With a rueful smirk Dick sat back down to wait for the kettle and rubbed his eyes. He really needed to sleep, but that's where Bruce kept falling so here he was.
The sound of soft slippered footsteps behind him made Dick look up. A familiar figure shuffled into view beside his own reflection. A genuine smile spread across his tired face. "Hey, Al."
"Master Dick, what a surprise." Alfred said, bleary voiced but cheerful. He stepped up beside Dick, hands comfortably in the pockets of his robe. Even the middle of the night, fresh from sleep, everything about the man was impeccable. His pajamas bore almost no rumples and Dick was pretty sure he'd combed his hair before leaving his room.
"I just put the kettle on if you want tea." He told him.
"That is what I'm here for." Alfred winked conspiratorially and Dick chuckled.
Alfred of course did not sit down. Instead he went to the cupboard. The kettle whistled and cups and spoon were soon clinking. Moments later he was placing a tea down in front of Dick. He set down his own cup and sat across the table with his back to the window and the night outside.
"Thanks, Alfred." Dick said.
"You're most welcome."
Alfred took a sip while Dick spent a a few seconds just watching the steamy tendrils rise off the surface of his tea.
"Couldn't sleep?" Dick asked when he sat back and picked up the cup.
"You know," Alfred said. "on the odd night I find myself awake, I take it as a sign that I should be available to Batman."
Dick raised an eyebrow. "What? Like a premonition?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. Just a simple feeling. Silly I know. Each of those vigils have come to nothing and I expect nothing now." Then he heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Alas I am always unfortunate enough to already be awake on the nights the two of you find yourselves in trouble."
Dick snorted. Alfred smirked.
"The night's not over yet, Al." Dick winced inwardly at his own teasing remark. Too soon.
Alfred rolled his eyes and took sip of tea. He then leveled a gentle, but pointed expression at Dick. "I would ask what roused you, but after the week you've had, I think I may know the answer."
"Yeah." Dick sighed. "That was… not great."
Alfred nodded his agreement. Silence settled in between them and after a little while he offered a thought. "You know Master Bruce doesn't blame you for anything that happened of course."
Dick shrugged. "I know he doesn't." Then he laughed a little. "I hate to say I'm kinda glad he's been gassed by Scarecrow before. It's just good to know he's been there too, ya know?"
Alfred briefly closed his eyes, remembering it. "It is a terrible thing to bear, however short lived."
Dick nodded, his humor falling away. Alfred took another sip of tea.
"I just…" Dick glanced away as Alfred's eyes met his. "I haven't felt anything like that since, well, you know." Alfred did know. "It freaked me out, Al." Dick took a shakey breath. "When he fell and I couldn't help him." He stopped and took another steadying breath. His brow was furrowed, eyes fixed on the table in front of him. "I didn't know…" Then his words trailed off to nothing.
Alfred allowed the pause and then supplied gently "That you see him as your father." Dick looked up at him. The old man was smiling at him. It was close mouthed and kind, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
Dick nodded slowly. "Yeah." He confessed. "I was watching my dad fall, again." Then he closed his eyes. He'd always felt weird inside when it came to allowing himself to accept Bruce, Alfred, this place. But none of it was a replacement. He knew that. It was just… more. Dick leaned forward onto his elbows and pressed his eyes into the the heels of his hands. Then he just let himself breathe.
"I know, dear boy." Alfred said, his voice as kind as his smile had been. "I know." Then he allowed the quiet to wrap itself around them once more. He didn't reach out to pat his shoulder or do anything like that. He just stayed there with Dick, like he always did. Like he had always done for Bruce. He let Dick just be there, without comment or scrutiny. He sipped his tea and kept his vigil. Eventually he did leave the table, but only to return shortly after with a fresh cup of tea for each of them.
The oven clock read 4:42 when the security alarm on the wall beeped. It was the special five beep alert that signaled an access to the cave. Bruce was home. Dick could see the blackness in the window paling at its furthest edges. He really needed to sleep. He sat back again, took a sip of tea and looked to Alfred. "Thanks." He told him. Alfred again just offered a kind smile and continued finishing his tea.
A sound like a door latching came from out in the main room. Quiet but heavy footsteps approached the kitchen and Bruce appeared silently in the dark doorway. Alfred looked up, Dick twisted part way around. He slowly peered into the room and with a bemused expression, looked at Alfred and then at Dick. He was visibly tired. His lip was split, but he'd already tended to it. Alfred smiled and Dick offered a weaker but genuine one of his own. Bruce then gave a nod. "Guys." He said simply.
Dick tossed a wave his way. Alfred tipped his head in greeting. Nothing else was said.
Bruce and his matted hair promptly disappeared to go shower and hopefully sleep. Dick, after giving Alfred a hug whether he liked it or not (he did), left to make another attempt at sleeping.
Alfred washed the tea cups and spoons, then returned to his room to dress and begin the day.