Chapter Text
Fill up the page, don't mind a little smudge or two,
carve out the lines in the dogwood tree,
fan flames 'til smoke plumes into signals:
a simple message from me too you.
I'd tell you anyway you want me to.
--would the simple words do?
Alfred stood in the pantry hiding. The chatter of voices was dulled by the hardwood by-fold door that hid him from sight. He wasn't sure why he was hiding. It was childish. It was beneath him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to open the door.
He had been looking for peppermint flavouring in the large pantry that was settled between the kitchen and dining room when he heard the voices. He hardly knew what had come over him, when he jumped and quickly snatched the handle of the door pulling it shut. If he wanted he could simply slip out into the dining room and remain undetected, but Jason was with Dick, and Alfred found he was unable to stop listening. It was wrong.
Alfred knew eavesdropping was the cardinal sin for those in service. It was still greater when he considered the boys on the other side of the door family. Yet they had been keeping secrets. Alfred, try as he might, was not accustomed to having secrets kept from him.
"Are you sure you can't stay?" Dick was asking, the sound of something scraping on the tiles as he did.
Alfred winced as he imagined the wood legs of a stool leaving scuffs on the floor.
"No, I better not risk it. I'll just tell the brat that it looks good and leave." Jason sounded tired.
Alfred pressed his lips together, the hair of his mustache poking into his bottom lip as he did. He wished he could go out and put Jason to bed like he used to when the boy was small. It was simpler then, nothing a good nights sleep wouldn't make better.
"He won't mind you know." Dick said lightly. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere..."
Alfred froze. Were they-- Did Dick mean him? Why would he mind Jason staying for dinner? Of course he didn't mind.
" I mind." Jason replied with a tone of finality.
Alfred felt shame. With all the skill and delicacy he had gained through his years of service he backed up and slipped out of the door that led to the dining room and fled to his private apartment.
He didn't return until the clock chimed six. By then Damian made his meal for the family. Alfred tried not to worry over not offering to help the boy cook. He reasoned that Damian was old enough to use the hob unsupervised. And Dick likely had helped him. Yes, it was fine. If the boy had wanted him he would have rung Alfred on the intercom.
Alfred, try as he might, couldn't keep track of the conversation as they ate. It was odd without Bruce here. Though the man had been absent for a year, Alfred had never grown used to his absence. Dick seemed to notice his discomfort, but Alfred thought the others might have missed it. Cassandra was preoccupied with listening to Damian explain each flavour and spice he had used. And Damian was much too excited over his success to mind Alfred's quiet.
Alfred complemented the flavours, the textures and the arrangement of the food, but said little more until the plates were scraped clean.
Alfred finally found himself cornered once the others had finished, and he dismissed offers to help clean up. He did his best thinking when he was able to clean. And so he plunged his hands deep in soapy water, a sponge gripped tight.
"Alf?" Dick leaned his hip against the counter and plucked a towel up from where it was draped over the stove handle.
Alfred hummed lightly.
"Can we talk?" Dick's voice was cautious.
Alfred squeezed the sponge out and set it on the counter. He turned to face the boy-- no young man. Dick was no longer a boy, despite Alfred's wishes to the contrary.
"Of course, Master Dick." Alfred tried to sound enthusiastic but he hardly felt it. Instead he felt a mix of fear and embarrassment. He had wanted to gather himself before seeking out Dick. But the younger man had beat him to it. So much for being an example to him.
"Jason." Dick started, twisting the towel in his hands as he spoke. "I know you want to know things. But-- Alfred, do you trust me?"
Alfred blinked "Of course I do."
Alfred spoke the words before he could even think. But he knew once they had slipped out that they were true. Dick was the best man he knew. He was loyal to a fault, and he was perhaps the most giving person he had ever met, and Alfred knew the whole Justice League.
"Then can you trust me and let go of the Jason thing?" Dick set his jaw as if waiting for a blow to fall.
Alfred felt his heart break. Could he let it go? He might not have been the Detective, but he had raised him. Alfred, like Bruce, hated a mystery. He hated being lied to or deceived. He hated secrets. He had dug until Bruce had told him about his plans to become Batman upon his return. In fact, Alfred realized with a start, he hadn't had a secret kept from him since then.
Dick sighed. "Alfred, I can't and I won't break Jason's trust."
Alfred blinked back tears. Did he want Dick to betray that? No. No, of course not.
"So, the way I see it, there are two ways forward." Dick continued, his voice sad.
Alfred opened his mouth to interrupt but Dick waved him off.
"You can either accept that, or we become strangers." Dick said with a horrible finality.
Alfred felt as if he had been struck in the chest. Dick had spoken softly, but Alfred knew the words would ring in his ears for the rest of his days.
Dick turned and began drying dishes, his own attempt to give Alfred time to collect himself. Alfred wondered if a man could ever come near as good as Dick Grayson was. Alfred knew not even Superman truly held a candle to him.
"Dick," Alfred spoke slowly, his voice trembling slightly as he did. "I'm so sorry. I do trust you. I trust-- I know who you are."
Dick didn't turn to look at him, but he put the now dry dish down on the counter.
"I'm sorry I've made things hard on you. I can-- I can wait."
Dick signed and Alfred stuttered to a stop.
"Alfred, I'm not asking you to wait to be told."
Alfred blinked.
"I'm asking you to be okay with never knowing." Dick picked up another plate and began to dry it. "Maybe Jason will want to tell you someday. But that is not the point. The point is you need to be okay with never."
Alfred's mouth was dry, and his tongue felt awkward behind his teeth.
"Okay." The word slipped out and hung between them. Alfred knew it was a promise he would have to keep. It would be hard and require him to become someone he hadn't ever been. But for the boys... that was a price he would pay.
Dick didn't react to Alfred's promise. He just picked up another dish when he finished drying the second. They continued on in silence.
Jason lay on the sofa, his book held aloft. The words danced in and out of focus as he stared down the page. He had a test next week over the book and he still had not finished it. Normally Jason would consume a book in a week but nearly a month after it had been assigned he found he had barely made a dent into the pages. It was just no use, Jason decided, putting it down as a bad job.
Finals were hot approaching and Jason found he had never been more disinterested in studying.
Jason jumped up from the sofa and stretched. He would go for a walk, clear his head. Snatching up his keys and jacket he soon found his way to a park nearby. His breath came out in a puff of vapor. He shuttered, and pulled his jacket tighter. He didn't feel cold the way he used to, but the memory of it was strong.
He had just sank onto an abandoned swing when his phone rang. Digging it out of his pocket, Jason sighed. The manor. Again. He had no doubt that Dick had told Tim and Damian both to be more proactive in calling him. He quickly hit accept and steeled himself for a dull conversation of pleasantries.
"Yeah." Jason said, wrapping his arm around the chain of the swing.
"Master Jason, is now a convenient time to talk?"
Jason blinked. Alfred. He hadn't expected it. They hadn't spoken since that night Bruce had surgery, and it had been several weeks ago. "I guess."
"I--" Alfred cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologize."
Jason shivered but not from cold.
"I would like to do it properly in person. But-- I"
A balloon burst in his chest and the mounting hope that had come with it dissipated. But. There was always a but.
"But I didn't want to turn up unannounced." Alfred paused, "would... Would there be a convenient time for you, if I were to stop by?"
Jason leaned his face against the chain. He could feel his hair catching on the links. He bit his lip considering. It was odd to sit calmly in the park when it felt like he was standing on the edge of a clif, just moments before the free fall. The city was dull gray, and the park was rather dingy. Jason saw no imperfections in it's appearance. It was home. It was familiar. Not a bad place to have his world unravel "Whenever. I've just been home studying."
If Alfred's voice was thicker than normal when he replied Jason didn't notice. "Then I will see you in an hour."
A faint tone signaled the end of the call and Jason let his hand fall to his lap. Alfred was going to apologize. Jason didn't know what that meant. He didn't know why or what for. He could guess. But then he grew up knowing that assumptions were a dangerous thing.
His mind was spinning. Then suddenly as if shot by a volt of electricity Jason leapt to his feet. He hadn't cleaned.
The hour from the end of the phone call and Alfred's arrival passed quickly, as Jason dashed home and hurried to tidy up his apartment. It hadn't been too bad, he reasoned. With studying for finals and secret visits to see Bruce in Watchtower, Jason had neglected his normal routine of cleaning and allowed the apartment to be less than tidy.
Jason found himself holding a pair of socks that he was debating the cleanliness of when the doorbell rang. Shoving the pair unceremoniously behind a sofa cushion Jason crossed to the intercom unit and hit the admit button.
His hand was shaking.
Though it would take Alfred a few minutes to reach his actual apartment door he found he could no longer move. His mouth had gone suddenly dry and his heart was beating embarrassingly fast.
He wondered if he looked pale. He was always pale these days, the pit had an odd effect on the body's ability to produce melanin it turned out. So Jason was forever the shade of a corpse. But he imagined he would look especially gaunt if he were to look at his reflection.
The knock on the door was a short rhythm. Jason's chest tightened. Memories of Alfred knocking on his bedroom door with that same restrained but insistent beat flooded his mind. His tongue now felt positively swollen in his mouth.
Jason didn't remember opening the door. But suddenly Alfred was there. He was in front of him. That mustache the same length and shape as it had always been. But now that he inspected it, he could see even more white mixed in with the greys and black. He was getting old.
Alfred cleared his throat. "May I come in?"
Jason nodded stiffly and stepped aside. Alfred crossed the room and after a moment of consideration sat on Jason's sofa... right next to the cushion hiding Jason's socks.
"Will you please sit down?" Alfred's voice was soft. Jason wondered if Alfred was just as afraid as he was.
Jason didn't go to the armchair next to the sofa, but instead hooked a leg of a bar stool and pulled it to him with his foot. He didn't think he could handle being that close. He was on edge and it was better for him to have space.
Once Jason was perched on the stool Alfred opened his mouth.
"I want to tell you I am sorry." Alfred pressed his lips together making his mustache look slightly uneven.
Jason held his breath. Alfred had said so much on the phone. This was nothing Jason didn't already know. What Jason wanted to know was what strings came attached, and what he was even sorry for. Over the years, Jason had learned it was better to know everything before he reacted. Living with Willis had taught him as much.
"I'm very sorry for how I have treated you and Dick, I realize now that it was unfair and unkind to demand you to tell me things that the two of you didn't want to tell me. I'm sorry for demanding you to tell me--"
Jason stopped breathing. Had Dick told him? That was the only thing that made sense. Dick had confessed and now Alfred was here to tell him that he was sorry but disappointed. Yes, that had to be it.
"I should have not presumed it was my right to have information. I will not excuse my actions, for there is none. I will only say I thought I was acting in your interest to try and find out-- which excuses nothing." Alfred took a deep breath and Jason's eyes snapped up to him.
He was crying. Thick pearls of water were rolling down his cheeks.
"I know that my apology is not enough. I can only say, if you can find it in your heart to give me another chance, I will work to be better and more understanding."
Jason felt a sharp pain in his hand. He glanced down and found he had sunk a fingernail into his palm, from squeezing his fist too tight. a little bead of blood was forming on the skin.
"Dick told you." Jason hated how hollow he sounded.
"No." Alfred said firmly. "He rightfully told me to take a hike, so to speak."
Jason blinked. "So-- So you are saying you're sorry and you are done asking?"
"I am."
Jason didn't know what to think. He wasn't even sure how he felt. That was far too often the case, he found, that when he finally got something he wanted for so long that all that remained was an unnerving sense of nothingness. A nothingness that formed in the stead of feeling everything all at once. He was happy. He was sad. He was angry and relieved. But in that moment he simply sat in the nothingness.
"I realize I've taken up far too much of your afternoon." Alfred said abruptly, getting to his feet. Jason stood up too and followed him to the door. He arms felt stupid swinging at his sides, like two logs that were just pined to his shoulders.
Alfred had opened the door and was saying something but Jason couldn't hear it.
"Al--" Jason's jaw snapped shut.
But Alfred stayed frozen, his hand fell from the doorknob. Alfred had turned to face him. Jason found he couldn't look him in the eye. So he fixed them on the tops of the man’s shoes. Oxford loafers. They were neatly polished and the laces were tightly tied.
"I-- I'm going to need time to..." Jason closed his eyes, even looking at the shoes hurt. "You made me feel worse-- I need you to understand that. I was really broken up. Bruce was gone, and I had--" Jason choked on the words. No. Even after all this time and Alfred’s apologies. He couldn't tell him. He didn't want to. "I was messed up by a lot of things, and you pushing and pushing made it worse."
Alfred didn't make a sound. If he had moved Jason couldn't tell. If his face had fallen, Jason wouldn't know. He kept his head bowed and his eyes closed tight. He wouldn't be haunted by the look of hurt on Alfred's face. He was haunted by too many ghosts to give life to another.
"You hurt me." Jason said, his voice thick.
"I know." Alfred was crying in earnest. "I know I did, my boy."
Jason turned around and opened his eyes. He fixed them on the bar stool just a few paces away and spoke again. "I get that you're sorry. But-- There's not a switch I can flip to make it better. There isn't a magic ‘back to normal’ button."
It was like a key fitting into a lock, the way the words just felt right. He hadn't known just how much Alfred had let him down, until he said it out loud.
Bruce was a different kind of pain. It was the pain of fearing disappointment. Whereas Alfred--- Alfred had lost his trust, had caused him pain . Jason found it odd that he hadn't realized it until now, not fully. His fear that Bruce would hate him, had been solely based on his own state of mistrust and doubts. This hurt wasn't as simple as learning to overcome a fear. It was one that had fractured a relationship's trust.
"I don't know when I'll forgive you." Jason felt a weight lift off his chest. One he didn't know he had been carrying.
"You don't ever have to forgive me, dear boy." Alfred's voice was hardly a whisper. "I'll be here either way."
Jason turned to face him finally. Alfred’s face was dry, a handkerchief clutched in his hand. His eyes were pink and rimmed. The pale icy blue seemed all the more piercing offset by the ruddy hues.
"Okay." Jason couldn't smile, but he did reach out and take Alfred's hand, still clutching that old linen hanky, and give it a light squeeze. And then as if his body knew before his mind did, he gave it two more.
Epilogue
Four months later
Spring was in full bloom and the Gotham sky was a bright blue. Students were wandering around the campus enjoying the rare sunshine. Bruce sat two coffee cups in front of him in a cold metal chair with a lattice weave. He could feel the design pressing uncomfortably against his legs, but he didn't mind. He would wait on a pile of knives if he had to.
Bruce watched teachers walk by and students meander back to their dorms from class. He couldn't help the smile that remained on his face each time he saw something or someone new. Campus. College campus. Gotham University wasn't the most prestigious school in the country or even on the east coast. But Bruce found it more perfect and wonderful than them all.
Jason was here.
Bruce sat as condensation gathered on the two cups in front of him and wondered if he should order a fresh one. He worried Jason's ice would melt and ruin the drink before he even arrived. But he pushed aside his worry. Jason wasn't particularly picky about his coffee and if he wanted Bruce would buy him another one when he got here.
Bruce found he often worried needlessly about Jason. It had been a strange few weeks when he'd been first released from Watchtower's ICU. Jason was timid, and Bruce for perhaps the first time had truly understood Jason's fears and terror. The radiation was now purged from his system and he was on the mend. This time for real. , But the knowledge the radiation had given him would never leave.
Bruce often woke in the middle of the night from horrible dreams where Damian held a sword that was far too big for him, dreams were Tim was crying, Cassandra hurt but still fighting and Dick all alone. Or worst still dreams where Jason lay dying from an overdose rather than Catherine. If Bruce was more overt in his affection to his children than who could blame him. They had all suffered more than he'd even known or imagined.
Perhaps that was what made the campus so beautiful, to know the truth of Jason's horrors and see where he was in spite of it all.
"Hey, old man."
Bruce jumped when the two hands came down on his shoulders.
Jason roared with laughter. "You are getting even sloppier."
Bruce chuckled as his heart returned to a normal rhythm. "Jaylad, I think it's that you are just a lot better at sneaking up on people."
"So you admit I'm better than you." Jason sank into the rickety chair across from Bruce and snatched up the drink in front of it with a grin.
Bruce shook his head with a smile. "I can't win whatever I say now."
Jason took a big slurp of his drink. "Nope," he said with a popping sound.
Bruce snorted. "How was class?"
Jason shrugged. "It was fine. Nothing life changing."
"Is class ever life changing?" Bruce's eyebrow shot up skeptically.
"Of course. ‘Robots and monsters’ was illuminating."
Bruce blinked and wondered how on earth there was such a niche literary class available. "Well I could see how perhaps a historic perspective on the two might come in handy."
"Nah, it was mostly stuff like Frankenstein, and War of the Worlds." Jason laughed. "You would have hated it."
Bruce rather agreed. That did sound like a horrible class. "I think I'll stick with my mystery novels."
Jason rolled his eyes and pulled his legs up so that his knees were against his chest. Bruce bit back a laugh. Jason had always sat like that, but now that he was nearly as large as Bruce himself, the pose seemed rather absurd. Like a giant sat in front of a tea set.
Jason propped his now half empty coffee on his knee. "How was work?"
Bruce took a sip from his cup and grimaced. It was definitely watery now. "It was fine. I've not really had much to do yet. Dick didn't think I should take on too much right away."
Jason nodded. "Well Dick is usually right." He paused and gave Bruce a venomous glare, "I will spray paint the batmobile Metropolis Blue Stockings blue and yellow if you ever tell him I said that."
Bruce held his hands up in mock surrender. "I would never. Not with the threat of being marked by a horrible team's colors."
Jason squinted at him suspiciously but seemed to accept his promise. " So what is Dickie having you do anyway? Paperwork?"
Bruce snorted. "I wish. No, he wants me to review all the past minutes from the board meetings I've missed and to read the year in review briefs-- for every department."
Jason shuttered. "Sucks to be you, old man."
"It's not so bad, just very very boring." Bruce smiled.
"I'll bet. I think I would poke my eyes out."
Bruce rolled his eyes. Jason was always so dramatic. "So you going to show me around campus or am I going to have to book a tour with the Dean?"
Jason's face turned slightly pink. "Don't you dare."
Bruce smiled mischievously. "Guess you better show me around then."
Jason groaned but Bruce suspected he was secretly pleased. He had always talked about university with enthusiasm.
The two polished off their coffees and then began the trek around the campus. Bruce listened excitedly to Jason tell him about the different parts of the library, the silence floor, the laptop loan stations, the lockers for commuters to store their things, the small shop just outside with snacks, coffee and hot food--"but you can't take it into the media room" Jason told him solemnly as if Bruce would be buying a chili dog and borrowing a computer-- He showed Bruce the different study rooms you could book for group work, and the bridge that connected the library to the student Union.
Bruce followed Jason as he moved around leading them in and out of crowds of students. Bruce felt something rather hard lodge in his throat. Blinking back tears and fighting to remain calm, Bruce smiled and nodded and asked a question. His heart he found was struggling to contain all the feelings he held. No words could express his pride for Jason. No tears or shouts could rid his body of the chemicals flooding his brain and body. Heaven help him, he loved this boy.
"And that's the size of it really." Jason said, his face still flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.
"Thank you so much for showing me around." Bruce stepped forward to hug Jason.
Jason was always a bit surprised by the affection, but his momentary stiffness didn't phase Bruce. He just held him until Jason melted into his arms and returned the gesture.
"I'll see you tomorrow for dinner?" Bruce asked when he finally pulled away from Jason.
"Yeah. I guess so." Jason was redder than he had been a moment ago. "Do you want me to meet up with you after work? I don't have class in the afternoon and could swing over to the office-- Unless you and Dick are carpooling or something."
Bruce waved him off. "No, come on over. Dick will be working later than I will anyway. He's been kicking me out at four every day." Bruce lifted his hands to make air quotes, "Bruce, you can’t over tire yourself." Bruce said in his best imitation of Dick's voice.
"Yeah that seems like something he would do." Jason nodded. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
Bruce smiled and nodded. They stood awkwardly in front of each other for a moment. Bruce, trying to cry with joy and pride. He knew they had a long way to go. He knew that the horrors of Jason's childhood and the rift that had been created in Bruce's absence would take a long time to bridge, but he didn't mind hard work. He was in for the long hall with this one. He always would be.
Jason turned to go before Bruce was ready to say goodbye. Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but Jason beat him to it. The words were said quietly, and nearly eaten by the wind and chatter of passing people. Bruce felt the tears that were threatening to spill the whole tour, finally fall.
"I love you too." Bruce replied.