Alfred Pennyworth has been serving the Waynes for most of his adult life. After the murder of Thomas and Martha, Alfred was left in charge of thier 8 year-old son, Bruce. Dispite Master Bruce's travelling for most of his young adult life and his eventuall turn as becoming the Dark Knight, Alfred always thought Master Bruce to be the son that he ever had after his parent's deaths. Even though Master Bruce would never say it out-loud, Alfred knew that Bruce felt the same way.
So seeing Master Bruce hanging on one of the hanging bars using only his feet like his costume namesake was quite a shock to Alfred.
Alfred, thinking that perhaps he took up some strange new training method (he has done that before), took care of his usual cleaning duties in the cave. Feeling a sunden brush of air, Alfred looked back to the bar--only to find Master Bruce no longer there.
Alfred was startled, but that was nothing when he felt himself being pulled by the collar of his tuxedo up and faced what looked like Master Bruce--but he did not LOOK like Master Bruce.
"What are you doing in my cave?" His voice was like Master Bruce's, yet it wasn't. Instead of his usual deep grunts of soft speaking, this was a voice of some demented animal.
"Master Bruce!" Alfred gasped, some by shock, but mostly from the tightness of Master Bruce's fingers around his throat. Alfred was not sure what has happened to Master Bruce, but he knew that something omnious has happened. "What the devil are you doing?!"
"No one is allowed in my cave," "Master Bruce" said. Master Bruce threw Alfred several feet away. Alfred might have not been so affected by it, but his old age and the shock of seeing his serrigate son seeing him in such a hateful way. "No one enters my cave. Not without being punished..." This proved it, there was something dreadfully wrong with Master Bruce, and Alfred will do anything in his power to save him.
"Mas--Bruce!" Alfred thought using his name without the "master" might wake Bruce up a bit. It is unbecoming of a butler, but at this moment, Alfred was not a butler, he was a confident, a friend...a father...
"A-alfred...?" A small voice came from Bruce's mouth, sounding almost like...when he was a child, just after his parents were murdered. Alfred knew that it was truely Bruce speaking, instead of this monstrocity that he was for the moment. Alfred cautiously went to Bruce and put a conforting hand on his shoulder.
"Yes! It's me, Alfred. Now, I don't know what has happened, but I'll take you to the medical bay--"
"NO!" "Bruce" screamed, pulling himself away from the touch. "B-but he's a friend, a-a fa--No he's not! He is nothing! I need no friends, I need no fathers! I...AM...THE BATMAN!!!"
It was then that Alfred realized that he would be unable to get Bruce back together. Perhaps, if he was not alone in the matter...
His mind made up, Alfred started to move to the staircase. Just then, almost faster then the eye could follow, Bruce, on his knees, grabbed onto Alfred's legs, almost like a child would hug a standing man.
"D-d-don't leave me." Bruce was shacking, his eyes nearly brimmed with tears. "P-please don't l-l-LEAVE ME!!" This monster version took over again, throwing Alfred down on his behind. Bruce was holding himself, shaking, head almost whip-lashing from what must be going on in his mind. Eventually, these inner demons took a standstill and Bruce passed out.
Afraid that he might wake up if he did, Alfred decided not to come any closer. Instead, he turned back to the staircase. It was perhaps the longest and most crueling walk in his life.
Walking past the staircase and opening the lock Alfred stepped from the cold Batcave to the soft and warm Wayne Manor. This transition from one room of the Manor to another had always felt like going from one world to another, but today it felt more literal then before.
Taking a seat in one of the chairs next to the telephone, Alfred then picked up the phone and dialed the number he wished to call. Since Master Timothy is away in Keystone, there was only one other person in Gotham Alfred could call to help in this dire hour...
"Hi, this is Barbra Gordon, I'm not here right now so please leave a message after the beep!" Miss Barbra's answering machine. Alfred could almost loathe that damn device at this moment.
"Miss Barbra, this is Alfred Pennyworth, something has happened to Bruce, I need your help in this matter. Come to the Manor as soon as you get this message. Farewell."
After hanging up the reciever, Alfred couldn't help but sit back into the chair. His body, mind, and soul felt like it was sagging from his frame.
Alfred had never felt so old in his life.
