[ It used to be easy for them to keep their gazes locked and communicate with nothing but a glance, but Bruce's gaze drops to watch Alfred's hands instead. ]
Which break was the worst? [ He chances a glance up while offering his arm to be cleaned and bandaged, letting Alfred know with that brief look that he's invested in the story. ]
[Communication in general used to be easier, part of that he supposes is Bruce growing up and becoming a teenager. He's heard from parents that these are the worst years, that children you once knew turned into brooding strangers and yet Alfred isn't fully convinced that's the whole reason behind Bruce's change in attitude.]
That would be when I had both my collarbones broken, had to have metal plates put in them while they healed and then removed later on.
[ Bruce's face pinches into something that takes a moment to smooth away. It is a practiced neutrality that is getting more and more brittle the longer the guilt in him festers. This newest revelation adds to that. He's seen Alfred in hospital gowns, too often because of him, but he'd never looked too deeply for evidence of his former life. He looks for it now, a quiet assessment, a different language he's learning to speak but won't let Alfred learn the cipher to. ]
They're rather faint by now, it happened when I was in my late twenties.
[Which seems like a life time ago now but when Bruce asks about what happened he nods and begins the tale, after all he's always been good at telling Bruce stories.]
This was back in London after I got out of the army and was working as the doorman and security for a nightclub.
It was one of those nights where you just knew something was off, that there was going to be trouble in one way or another.
[ The story gives him something other than the aches and pains of the night to focus on. It's also a balm for the parts of him that think maybe Alfred would be safer in a life outside of his service, pacified by the history of his scrapes which he notes with a small huff of a smile and the words: ] You and trouble have a long history together, I see.
[ The expanse of his back is given for Alfred to oversee. He's pretty sure it's just bruising but it doesn't hurt (well, technically it does) to allow him a better look. ] So how did it find you?
[Alfred could argue that Bruce's history isn't long at all, considering he's still just a lad, but he keeps quiet about that since lately he seems a little sore about being reminded of that fact.]
It found me by way of a very large and very inebriated chap who decided that since his pick up lines weren't working on the dancing girls that he would literally 'pick them up'.
[ Alfred's history with trouble seems long and growing ever longer so he's grateful to have the remark go without comment, allowing for Bruce to feel a little easier in his own skin. He wants to rumble a low laugh but the noise starts and stops in his bruised chest, suffocated in lieu of a soft puff of air. ]
That was rather brutish of him. There was a fight, I take it?
Well not at first, you know that I always try to solve things with words first.
[He's a gentleman after all and a gentleman always tries to de-escalate a situation before violence.]
So first I went up to him and told him that the girls had a show to do and unless he wanted to put on a glittery bra and join them in a number he'd have to stop mucking about.
[ It's a gentle tease, an attempt to find their rhythm again. This time, despite his efforts and his injuries, Bruce laughs and the sharp jolt of pain that goes through his chest has him clutching at it with a sharp hiss, the bright noise quickly aborted behind grit teeth. ]
I take it he didn't join the chorus line. [ He tries to play off the pain, shaking his head to preempt any concern Alfred might show. Instead, Bruce steadies himself with a hand on the back of the chair before stealing a look over his shoulder at Alfred. ] Don't tell me he put you over his shoulder instead...
[It's nice to hear him laugh again, even if it turns into a hiss of pain but Alfred doesn't move to comfort him. Bruce made his decision to go out and he's got to learn to live with the consequences, after all pain can be a great teacher on what not to do next time.]
Not quite, he actually picked me up over his head and threw me against the bar. I landed at a bad angle and cracked both collarbones.
[A small pause as he finishes bandaging up Bruce's back.]
Didn't stop me from dealing with him though and after he was finally out for the count I looked down and saw these two great bloody big lumps where my bones were trying to push through my skin.
[ Bruce knows the pain is in the past but it still doesn't stop him from wincing sympathetically as Alfred recalls the brawl. After a beat, noticing that there doesn't seem to be anything left to bandage, he ventures: ] How long were you out of commission?
[ And then, glancing over his shoulder asks. ] Or were you stubborn about bed rest even then?
About two weeks after they set the bones and then I had the metal plates in for about six weeks to make sure they healed properly, then I was out for another week after they did the surgery to take out them out.
[He chuckles softly.]
I was, lucky for me I had a very good nurse at the time. One of the dancing girls.
[ This time the huff of amusement is just that, a low breath of air as Bruce blushes with the heightened knowledge of Alfred having had a full life well before coming to Wayne Manor. Dancing girls and all. ] I'm sure you were much better behaved around her than the doctors.
[ He smiles blithely, small but there before expelling a ragged breath that shores back up the professional distance he has been trying to erect between them. ]
Was that the last of it then? [ He nods at the tray Alfred has brought back up and while he knows there's no forgetting the needle there, he's half hoping Alfred has. ]
[Bruce has had to grow up quite a lot these past few years but the topic of girls, sex and relationships is still not something he knows much about and his small blush makes Alfred chuckle. It helps soothe his feelings when Bruce suddenly switches back to acting distant and almost cold to him.]
Almost.
[He says and picks up the needle.]
Just a quick shot to the rump and then we'll be done, you can spend the rest of your day recovering and resting.
[ Growing up has been one harrowing event after another and it hasn't left Bruce with a lot of time to reckon with teenage hormones or what they mean as he continues to try and deny the human parts of himself that aren't related to finding ways to prevent Ra's al Ghul's return or keeping the leeches on Wayne Enterprise's board of directors from trying to pull his family's company out from under him.
Most of the time he thinks he has a hand on all the confusing emotions that war within him but then there are times like these when he struggles with any kind of vulnerability despite knowing Alfred is the one person deserving of it. ]
Then let's get this over with.
[ He nods, mostly for himself, then takes a beat to cradle his newly bandaged ribs with a hand cupped just under where they hurt the most. Any bracing breaths will just worsen the pain so he stills the air in his chest as he goes about undoing his belt so he can push the waistband of both his pants and underwear down just enough to expose a thin strip of skin below his back. Modesty its own kind of armor he's learned to wear, even around Alfred who Bruce pointedly avoids looking at. ]
I wouldn't say no to pancakes, [ He suggests to take his mind off of the injection. ]
[As always, Alfred is quick and precise. Swabbing the area of skin that Bruce presents to him with an alcohol swatch before swiftly sticking him with the needle and administering the liquid as quickly as he can. With that done the needle is removed and a bandage put in place.]
Pancakes it is then. Regular or something a bit sweeter? Chocolate chip perhaps?
[After all, Bruce does deserve a little treat after having endured that.]
[ The perfunctory care is appreciated without comment or gratitude. They are both familiar enough with this routine of Bruce coming home with scrapes and bruises that it doesn't need any grandstanding. He fastens himself back up, sore now in more places than when he started. ] Chocolate chip.
[ He keeps the eagerness out of his voice, but the comfort of something warm and sweet helps soften the prickly edges he's trying to keep up. ] I'll meet you downstairs.
[Bruce is able to keep the eagerness out of his voice but not the hint of warmth that creeps in when he requests chocolate chip pancakes and Alfred nods, picking up the medical tray and moving towards the door.]
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Which break was the worst? [ He chances a glance up while offering his arm to be cleaned and bandaged, letting Alfred know with that brief look that he's invested in the story. ]
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That would be when I had both my collarbones broken, had to have metal plates put in them while they healed and then removed later on.
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[ Bruce's face pinches into something that takes a moment to smooth away. It is a practiced neutrality that is getting more and more brittle the longer the guilt in him festers. This newest revelation adds to that. He's seen Alfred in hospital gowns, too often because of him, but he'd never looked too deeply for evidence of his former life. He looks for it now, a quiet assessment, a different language he's learning to speak but won't let Alfred learn the cipher to. ]
How did it happen?
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[Which seems like a life time ago now but when Bruce asks about what happened he nods and begins the tale, after all he's always been good at telling Bruce stories.]
This was back in London after I got out of the army and was working as the doorman and security for a nightclub.
It was one of those nights where you just knew something was off, that there was going to be trouble in one way or another.
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[ The expanse of his back is given for Alfred to oversee. He's pretty sure it's just bruising but it doesn't hurt (well, technically it does) to allow him a better look. ] So how did it find you?
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It found me by way of a very large and very inebriated chap who decided that since his pick up lines weren't working on the dancing girls that he would literally 'pick them up'.
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That was rather brutish of him. There was a fight, I take it?
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[He's a gentleman after all and a gentleman always tries to de-escalate a situation before violence.]
So first I went up to him and told him that the girls had a show to do and unless he wanted to put on a glittery bra and join them in a number he'd have to stop mucking about.
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[ It's a gentle tease, an attempt to find their rhythm again. This time, despite his efforts and his injuries, Bruce laughs and the sharp jolt of pain that goes through his chest has him clutching at it with a sharp hiss, the bright noise quickly aborted behind grit teeth. ]
I take it he didn't join the chorus line. [ He tries to play off the pain, shaking his head to preempt any concern Alfred might show. Instead, Bruce steadies himself with a hand on the back of the chair before stealing a look over his shoulder at Alfred. ] Don't tell me he put you over his shoulder instead...
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Not quite, he actually picked me up over his head and threw me against the bar. I landed at a bad angle and cracked both collarbones.
[A small pause as he finishes bandaging up Bruce's back.]
Didn't stop me from dealing with him though and after he was finally out for the count I looked down and saw these two great bloody big lumps where my bones were trying to push through my skin.
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[ And then, glancing over his shoulder asks. ] Or were you stubborn about bed rest even then?
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[He chuckles softly.]
I was, lucky for me I had a very good nurse at the time. One of the dancing girls.
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[ He smiles blithely, small but there before expelling a ragged breath that shores back up the professional distance he has been trying to erect between them. ]
Was that the last of it then? [ He nods at the tray Alfred has brought back up and while he knows there's no forgetting the needle there, he's half hoping Alfred has. ]
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Almost.
[He says and picks up the needle.]
Just a quick shot to the rump and then we'll be done, you can spend the rest of your day recovering and resting.
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Most of the time he thinks he has a hand on all the confusing emotions that war within him but then there are times like these when he struggles with any kind of vulnerability despite knowing Alfred is the one person deserving of it. ]
Then let's get this over with.
[ He nods, mostly for himself, then takes a beat to cradle his newly bandaged ribs with a hand cupped just under where they hurt the most. Any bracing breaths will just worsen the pain so he stills the air in his chest as he goes about undoing his belt so he can push the waistband of both his pants and underwear down just enough to expose a thin strip of skin below his back. Modesty its own kind of armor he's learned to wear, even around Alfred who Bruce pointedly avoids looking at. ]
I wouldn't say no to pancakes, [ He suggests to take his mind off of the injection. ]
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Pancakes it is then.
Regular or something a bit sweeter? Chocolate chip perhaps?
[After all, Bruce does deserve a little treat after having endured that.]
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[ He keeps the eagerness out of his voice, but the comfort of something warm and sweet helps soften the prickly edges he's trying to keep up. ] I'll meet you downstairs.
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Very well, Master Bruce.