beyondtherift - sunday_reveries - Aftermath
ooc: Set after this
"Like everyone, I am alone inside this pearly flesh - and I am afraid."
-Sena Jeter Naslund
After speaking to Rachel, Alfred closed himself inside his room and stared at the bare walls. Had it been only today he had seen the Bruce Wayne he knew here?
He knew it had been, and he knew he had been happy to see the young man. Whatever universe or dimension he was in, Bruce Wayne was Bruce Wayne, and Alfred had raised Bruce Wayne. He loved him as a son, and time and space did not dull that. It made things both simple and complicated.
The news...it broke his heart. It reminded him of so much that had been lost. It took him back to moments that had burned in their own time. Rachel Dawes. Burning. Dying.
When she had died, Alfred had felt the loss to his soul. He had lost a daughter, and in a way, he had lost the boy he had raised as a son, as well. A piece of the man had been broken, and despite Alfred's attempts to shield him from Rachel's letter, he could not shield him from the loss.
He had held a boy, a young, hurting child, when Thomas and Martha Wayne had passed.
...Passed.
Stolen. As Rachel had been stolen.
He had been there and seen the hurt and the anguish in Bruce's eyes, and it had hurt him to know that there was little he could do to prevent the young man from losing those he loved. Alfred had promised himself that he would do what he could. He would remain. He would never leave him, and he would be strong for him when the young man felt he could not be strong for himself. He would be the safe place to go. ...The safe place.
A sound startled Alfred, and it was not until he felt the tears fall onto his hands that he realized he was sobbing. An old man, grieving for the child he could not reach. He was grieving for Rachel, and Bruce, for Thomas and Martha, and for that poor woman...
He was grieving for himself, as well.
"I cannot reach you," he said quietly. "I did not mean to leave." Useless words that could not comfort the one who needed them.
Few men realized their greatest fears in life. Alfred was well-aware of his. His greatest fear was, as it always had been, that Bruce Wayne would be alone. That, once again, the young man would call out for him, and he would not be able to help him.
Alone, and in agony, Alfred curled up on his bed, and apologized in a quiet, even voice.
"I am so sorry."
"Like everyone, I am alone inside this pearly flesh - and I am afraid."
-Sena Jeter Naslund
After speaking to Rachel, Alfred closed himself inside his room and stared at the bare walls. Had it been only today he had seen the Bruce Wayne he knew here?
He knew it had been, and he knew he had been happy to see the young man. Whatever universe or dimension he was in, Bruce Wayne was Bruce Wayne, and Alfred had raised Bruce Wayne. He loved him as a son, and time and space did not dull that. It made things both simple and complicated.
The news...it broke his heart. It reminded him of so much that had been lost. It took him back to moments that had burned in their own time. Rachel Dawes. Burning. Dying.
When she had died, Alfred had felt the loss to his soul. He had lost a daughter, and in a way, he had lost the boy he had raised as a son, as well. A piece of the man had been broken, and despite Alfred's attempts to shield him from Rachel's letter, he could not shield him from the loss.
He had held a boy, a young, hurting child, when Thomas and Martha Wayne had passed.
...Passed.
Stolen. As Rachel had been stolen.
He had been there and seen the hurt and the anguish in Bruce's eyes, and it had hurt him to know that there was little he could do to prevent the young man from losing those he loved. Alfred had promised himself that he would do what he could. He would remain. He would never leave him, and he would be strong for him when the young man felt he could not be strong for himself. He would be the safe place to go. ...The safe place.
A sound startled Alfred, and it was not until he felt the tears fall onto his hands that he realized he was sobbing. An old man, grieving for the child he could not reach. He was grieving for Rachel, and Bruce, for Thomas and Martha, and for that poor woman...
He was grieving for himself, as well.
"I cannot reach you," he said quietly. "I did not mean to leave." Useless words that could not comfort the one who needed them.
Few men realized their greatest fears in life. Alfred was well-aware of his. His greatest fear was, as it always had been, that Bruce Wayne would be alone. That, once again, the young man would call out for him, and he would not be able to help him.
Alone, and in agony, Alfred curled up on his bed, and apologized in a quiet, even voice.
"I am so sorry."