[Much like Oswald, Alfred doesn't know how much time has passed. He can only remember the sequence of events; lifting Bruce's body into his arms and walking him through the cold, empty manor to the bathroom where he lovingly cleans all the blood off him. He can remember dressing Bruce in the suit Alfred himself helped him pick out for his birthday, he can remember sobbing uncontrollably and holding Bruce against his chest as it hits him that there will be no more of those.
No more birthdays, no more watching the boy who became his son grow into a man.
He can remember carrying Bruce's body, now clean and smartly dressed, outside to his parent's grave and there he begins to dig. He doesn't know how long it takes but it doesn't matter, it has to be done and in the end he lays Bruce's body between his parent's caskets. As if he will somehow find comfort being between them again in the afterlife.]
I love you, Master Bruce. I always will.
[By the time everything is done Alfred is exhausted and he collapses onto one of the couches in the main room, falling into a fitful sleep. The next morning he wakes at his usual time, dragging himself up and out of bed to go check on the only other people here with him now.
He enters his room with a tea tray, on it is a pot of tea, two cups, some meds, and some fresh fruit.]
Good morning, sir.
[He says as he sets the tray down and moves to open the curtains slightly, letting in a small sliver of sun as to help wake the injured man in his bed.]
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Date: 2024-08-16 04:29 am (UTC)No more birthdays, no more watching the boy who became his son grow into a man.
He can remember carrying Bruce's body, now clean and smartly dressed, outside to his parent's grave and there he begins to dig. He doesn't know how long it takes but it doesn't matter, it has to be done and in the end he lays Bruce's body between his parent's caskets. As if he will somehow find comfort being between them again in the afterlife.]
I love you, Master Bruce.
I always will.
[By the time everything is done Alfred is exhausted and he collapses onto one of the couches in the main room, falling into a fitful sleep. The next morning he wakes at his usual time, dragging himself up and out of bed to go check on the only other people here with him now.
He enters his room with a tea tray, on it is a pot of tea, two cups, some meds, and some fresh fruit.]
Good morning, sir.
[He says as he sets the tray down and moves to open the curtains slightly, letting in a small sliver of sun as to help wake the injured man in his bed.]