Ficlet: (Un)Dead | DCU | Bruce/Jason, Alfred | PG | 1/1
Title: (Un)Dead
Fandom: DCU
Pairing/Characters: Bruce/Jason, Alfred
Rating: PG
Word Count: 503
Prompt: For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Ghosts; For hc_bingo: Ghosts & Hauntings
Summary: Wayne Manor has never been empty.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Fifth in the (Un)Familiar-verse, follows (Un)Tainted.
Warning: Previous canon and non-canon character death.
(Un)Dead
Wayne Manor has never been empty.
After Bruce lost his parents, he thought for sure that he would be alone in the cavernous house, but Alfred made sure he wasn't. The old man has always been there when Bruce needed him, has kept the Manor running, has gone above and beyond to support the Bat's Mission.
Truly, he's been a godsend.
So it's no surprise that after Jason gets torn up by Killer Croc one night, Alfred is there to tend to his injuries, medical supplies at the ready.
His wrinkled hands are steady and gentle as he stitches wide gashes shut, disinfects the wounds and covers them, and Jason doesn't even complain, even as he silently snarls, teeth gritted and lips twisted with pain.
“Easy, Master Jason,” Alfred soothes him while Bruce hovers in the background, trying not to worry any more than he already is. “Almost done.”
Jay nods, his head jerking sharply as he watches those steady hands finish with the last gash, a long rip along one shin that makes Bruce ache in sympathy.
Alfred fixes Jason with a stern look after taping down the last piece of gauze. “There we are. Now go rest. I don't want to see you up and around before tomorrow afternoon, and there won't be so much as the thought of patrol tomorrow night.”
At the firm dismissal, Jason nods again and wastes no time sliding off the exam table to hobbling upstairs.
Blowing out a breath of relief, Bruce watches him go. Jay will be mostly healed by tomorrow night, but not quite ready for patrol; another night's rest will do him good, even with the rapid healing of the Wolf.
“Thank you,” he tells the old man after Jason is gone.
A nod, and Alfred raises a silvered eyebrow at him. “It's my job, Master Bruce. Regardless of how you choose to manage your personal affairs, I shall always be here when needed, and my guidance is most definitely still needed.”
He knows it's all true, even as he winces internally at the scathing remark; Alfred has never quite approved of the way he dismissed Dick after bringing Jason into the house, though he seems to finally be warming up to Jay, if such a thing is possible. Still, Bruce can't help but wonder why he stays, so many years after-
“I made a promise a long time ago,” Alfred answers the unspoken question, his eyes soft, “and not even death shall prevent me from keeping it.”
Bowing his head, he wishes the old man could have the peace he deserves, and when he looks up again, Alfred is gone, disappeared to other parts of the Manor as he usually does, his own mission never complete. But even as Bruce laments the restlessness he feels partially responsible for, he can't help but be grateful for the continued presence of the long-deceased steward that returned and came to collect him mere minutes after those fateful shots in the alley.
He knows that as long as he has need of that help, the Manor will never be empty.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Pairing/Characters: Bruce/Jason, Alfred
Rating: PG
Word Count: 503
Prompt: For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Ghosts; For hc_bingo: Ghosts & Hauntings
Summary: Wayne Manor has never been empty.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Fifth in the (Un)Familiar-verse, follows (Un)Tainted.
Warning: Previous canon and non-canon character death.
(Un)Dead
Wayne Manor has never been empty.
After Bruce lost his parents, he thought for sure that he would be alone in the cavernous house, but Alfred made sure he wasn't. The old man has always been there when Bruce needed him, has kept the Manor running, has gone above and beyond to support the Bat's Mission.
Truly, he's been a godsend.
So it's no surprise that after Jason gets torn up by Killer Croc one night, Alfred is there to tend to his injuries, medical supplies at the ready.
His wrinkled hands are steady and gentle as he stitches wide gashes shut, disinfects the wounds and covers them, and Jason doesn't even complain, even as he silently snarls, teeth gritted and lips twisted with pain.
“Easy, Master Jason,” Alfred soothes him while Bruce hovers in the background, trying not to worry any more than he already is. “Almost done.”
Jay nods, his head jerking sharply as he watches those steady hands finish with the last gash, a long rip along one shin that makes Bruce ache in sympathy.
Alfred fixes Jason with a stern look after taping down the last piece of gauze. “There we are. Now go rest. I don't want to see you up and around before tomorrow afternoon, and there won't be so much as the thought of patrol tomorrow night.”
At the firm dismissal, Jason nods again and wastes no time sliding off the exam table to hobbling upstairs.
Blowing out a breath of relief, Bruce watches him go. Jay will be mostly healed by tomorrow night, but not quite ready for patrol; another night's rest will do him good, even with the rapid healing of the Wolf.
“Thank you,” he tells the old man after Jason is gone.
A nod, and Alfred raises a silvered eyebrow at him. “It's my job, Master Bruce. Regardless of how you choose to manage your personal affairs, I shall always be here when needed, and my guidance is most definitely still needed.”
He knows it's all true, even as he winces internally at the scathing remark; Alfred has never quite approved of the way he dismissed Dick after bringing Jason into the house, though he seems to finally be warming up to Jay, if such a thing is possible. Still, Bruce can't help but wonder why he stays, so many years after-
“I made a promise a long time ago,” Alfred answers the unspoken question, his eyes soft, “and not even death shall prevent me from keeping it.”
Bowing his head, he wishes the old man could have the peace he deserves, and when he looks up again, Alfred is gone, disappeared to other parts of the Manor as he usually does, his own mission never complete. But even as Bruce laments the restlessness he feels partially responsible for, he can't help but be grateful for the continued presence of the long-deceased steward that returned and came to collect him mere minutes after those fateful shots in the alley.
He knows that as long as he has need of that help, the Manor will never be empty.
~*~*~*~