Fic: Family
Title: Family
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Rating: PG
Word count: 183
Character: Alfred, Bat family
Prompt: Thankful
Summary: He hasn’t completely failed them,
Perhaps today of all days is the only time that Alfred feels that he hasn’t completely failed Thomas and Martha Wayne. Perhaps today is the only day of the year he feels that he hasn’t completely failed himself.
For once, family, love and laughter has taken precedence over a never-ending war declared by a young boy all those years ago.
With a rueful shake of his head Alfred banishes bitter memories that rush to the forefront of his mind and allows his gaze to travel around the table; he brands their smiles into his psyche, hoards away their joy to feast upon in darker times, drinks in their love and their camaraderie to sustain himself in the here and now.
He does not look at the empty chair, or let his eyes wander to the window, allow his imaginings to take him outside in the cold and the dark, where angry young men rage against all the injustices of the world and cannot tell the difference between friend, family or foe.
It’s Christmas. For one day, perhaps selfishly, he wants to be thankful for what he has and not lamenting for all that he does not.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Rating: PG
Word count: 183
Character: Alfred, Bat family
Prompt: Thankful
Summary: He hasn’t completely failed them,
Perhaps today of all days is the only time that Alfred feels that he hasn’t completely failed Thomas and Martha Wayne. Perhaps today is the only day of the year he feels that he hasn’t completely failed himself.
For once, family, love and laughter has taken precedence over a never-ending war declared by a young boy all those years ago.
With a rueful shake of his head Alfred banishes bitter memories that rush to the forefront of his mind and allows his gaze to travel around the table; he brands their smiles into his psyche, hoards away their joy to feast upon in darker times, drinks in their love and their camaraderie to sustain himself in the here and now.
He does not look at the empty chair, or let his eyes wander to the window, allow his imaginings to take him outside in the cold and the dark, where angry young men rage against all the injustices of the world and cannot tell the difference between friend, family or foe.
It’s Christmas. For one day, perhaps selfishly, he wants to be thankful for what he has and not lamenting for all that he does not.