All of it, that it was his life that had ended and not Bruce's, that he could trade his soul for one more chance to save his boy and for a moment he considers just ending it so he can be with the one good thing he had in his life. If he just gave up now then maybe he could see Bruce again, maybe Esme too. Maybe he could find relief from this horrible weight in his heart and things could just be....over.
What finally stirs him from his own dark, suicidal thoughts is a voice.
'Alfred, you have to help the survivors.'
It's the voice of Bruce, murmuring deep inside his own mind but it somehow manages to give him the strength to come back to his senses, not fully but enough to realize that he's sitting in a puddle of blood and gore. That his hands are coated up to his elbows in Nyssa's blood, that the cuffs of his usually crisp white dress shirt are now a dark maroon color.
'You can fix yourself up later, Alfred. Get up and help him. That's an order.'
He hears Bruce say in his head and he nods, hauling himself up off the ground and plodding over to Oswald, his eyes glassy and faraway, as if he were on auto-pilot.]
Hold still.
[He croaks and gently removes the gag from Oswald's mouth before moving on to untie the rest of his restraints, there's no indication that he even seems to realize who it is he just saved just that he should be free.]
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Date: 2024-07-28 12:47 am (UTC)All of it, that it was his life that had ended and not Bruce's, that he could trade his soul for one more chance to save his boy and for a moment he considers just ending it so he can be with the one good thing he had in his life. If he just gave up now then maybe he could see Bruce again, maybe Esme too.
Maybe he could find relief from this horrible weight in his heart and things could just be....over.
What finally stirs him from his own dark, suicidal thoughts is a voice.
'Alfred, you have to help the survivors.'
It's the voice of Bruce, murmuring deep inside his own mind but it somehow manages to give him the strength to come back to his senses, not fully but enough to realize that he's sitting in a puddle of blood and gore. That his hands are coated up to his elbows in Nyssa's blood, that the cuffs of his usually crisp white dress shirt are now a dark maroon color.
'You can fix yourself up later, Alfred. Get up and help him. That's an order.'
He hears Bruce say in his head and he nods, hauling himself up off the ground and plodding over to Oswald, his eyes glassy and faraway, as if he were on auto-pilot.]
Hold still.
[He croaks and gently removes the gag from Oswald's mouth before moving on to untie the rest of his restraints, there's no indication that he even seems to realize who it is he just saved just that he should be free.]