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“Penny for your thoughts, sir?”
Bruce looks up from his desk, raising an eyebrow. “Was that a pun, Alfred?”
“I suppose it was.” Alfred smirks. “A side effect of Master Dick being home more often, I’m sure.”
A smile plays across Bruce’s face. “It’s nice to have him around more. All of them. Even Jason.”
“It is, sir. Though I suspect you’ve yet to mention that to any of them.”
Bruce sighs. “I’m… trying. To be more open.” He runs a hand down his face. “Dick makes it look so easy.”
Alfred sits in a chair across the desk from Bruce. “Master Dick is not quite so open as he’d like us to think, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“He is quite adept at addressing other people’s emotions,” Alfred explains. “But it has been a while since I’ve heard him talk about his own problems.”
Bruce leans back in his chair, frowning. “Runs in the family, I guess. Nurture over nature, in this case.”
“You blame yourself.” It’s not a question.
Bruce nods. “I raised him since he was a child. And by all accounts John and Mary Grayson were kind, loving parents.”
“As are you, Master Bruce,” Alfred assures him. “You just express it in… enigmatic ways.”
Bruce chuckles. “I guess so. I wish I knew how to express it better.”
“There is still time for you to learn.”
“I hope so,” Bruce says. “They deserve to hear it more often, that I love them.”
“Very true, sir.” Alfred nods. “I cannot help but hold myself responsible as well.”
Bruce’s forehead crinkles up. “Why?”
Alfred folds his hands in his lap. “I am afraid I have not given you the best example of effusive fatherly affection over the years.”
“Alfred…” Bruce frowns.
“Bruce, I have thought of you as my son since I came to fetch you in that alley when you were eight years old.” Alfred’s voice is soft, full of emotion. “I love you like my own, and I am sorry it took me this long to say it. It may be my biggest regret.”
Bruce draws in a shuddering breath. He’d known, on some level, that Alfred considered him a son. There had been a wall between them, born of the nature of their professional relationship and a stiff upper lip, but Alfred had cared for him. Bruce had always understood that.
But hearing it said out loud is different.
“I love you too, Alfred.”
A watery smile settles onto Alfred’s face. Bruce rises, circling the desk to pull him into a hug.
“You’re a good father,” he murmurs.
“As are you, my boy.” Alfred pulls back to look him in the eyes. “Your children love you. Be open with them. I promise it is worth it.”
“You’d know, huh?” Bruce teases.
Alfred straightens his waistcoat, failing to hide a smile. “Yes, I would.”
Bruce grins. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”
“I suppose it is time for Batman to face his greatest opponent.” Alfred smirks. “Emotional vulnerability.”
Bruce’s answering laughter can be heard across half the manor.