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The alarm was a woeful greeting to the day, but the bright sun outside was even more unwelcome. Tim turned over and buried his head into his pillow in a vain attempt to block out the noise and light. But his mind was already awake now even though his body was still quite sore. The first day of school: sure, it was his senior year, and yeah he’d missed his friends over the summer break, but he was still annoyed that the school term didn’t take his late nights into account.
Alfred squeaked the door open, “Master Timothy, your alarm has been going off for some time now. Don’t you think it’s time to wake up?”
“Mmph.” Even Tim didn’t quite know what that response was supposed to mean, but at the moment he didn’t care. Even the loud, obnoxious beeping of his alarm was no match for his exhaustion.
His footsteps barely making a sound, Alfred crept over and turned the alarm off. “That’s much better. You know, I’d hoped that opening these curtains would be enough to rouse you, but I suppose not.”
Tim turned over with a groan. “You know, Bruce never has to get up this early. Especially after a long night.”
“Is that so?” Bruce had been walking past the doorway and stopped to insert a smug comment. He was toweling his hair dry as he stepped in. “It’s only one more year, Tim.”
“Yeah, but last night we foiled two muggings, a bank robbery, and pummeled a mob meet-up. Not to mention the enjoyable fistfight with Killer Croc and tracking down where Two-Face might be hiding out.” He sighed. Alfred and Bruce exchanged looks, both of them trying not to smile and failing. “Look, I know you guys are used to never getting sleep, but…”
“There’s a lovely pot of coffee downstairs, you know.” Alfred piped in, pulling Tim’s costume from the hamper, the long green patches smelling fresh from Gotham’s sewers. “I find that always helps when wakefulness is rather sparse.”
“No, I think I just need some pain killers. The hot shower last night helped, but now I’m too sore to want to go in.”
“You’ll be fine,” Bruce said, as Alfred slipped past him toward the kitchen. “Like I said, it’s just one more year. If you can handle Croc, a few new teachers shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t know, you haven’t met them. Some days I’d prefer to deal with Gotham’s crooked criminals than some of the homework they dole out.”
“Why? Is it difficult work? Because I could always hire a tutor to…”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just time consuming.” Tim pushed himself up to a sitting position, his hair poking out at all angles. “I could think of a million things I’d rather be spending my time doing than reading chapters out of a textbook. Not to mention having to listen to a bunch of boring people talk every day.”
Bruce had a sour look come across him. “Well, don’t expect that to go away anytime soon. Trust me, I speak from personal experience on this. The boring talks only get worse as you get older.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, but if you’re lucky, you get to sleep through them without anyone giving a damn.”
Tim laughed as Alfred brought in a cup of coffee with a container of Aspirin. A regular Bat-breakfast.
END