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Jason gulped, as he walked up the drive.
It was now or never, really.
Because Alfred knew he was back. Bruce had let slip that much, in their cat-and-mouse game. And after all the training, all the preparation. He didn’t think it would faze him. Not as much as it did.
“You’re really going to do this? To me? To Dick? …To Alfred?” And it seemed to pain even the Batman, to mention that last person. “He’s…beside himself.”
And that was the only polite way any of them had to say: You broke Alfred’s heart, you piece of shit.
And Jason knew better than anyone, how quickly heartbreak turned into bitterness. Into anger. Into hatred.
And that thought – it hurt.
The child in the back of his mind, in that deep dark corner. The child he thought he’d buried, like he once was himself, cried out.
Please no! Please, anybody but Alfred!
Jason could see him – the child he once was, the child who was murdered – curled in on himself, fat tears rolling down those chubby cheeks. He was even in the Robin uniform, in the scaly greens and yellow cape.
Alfred, I love you! Please don’t hate me! Please! Please!!
It was his greatest fear, maybe. More than death, more than being alone. More than losing Bruce.
Losing Alfred. But not to death. Not physically. Emotionally.
He shoved his hands in his pocket. Swallowed the lump in his throat, stepped slowly up the manor stairs.
He had to know.
He had to see him.
And if Alfred turned him away, if Alfred demanded he leave or he’d pull out his shotgun – he would. He would leave and never come back, if Alfred asked him to.
It was a likely reaction after all. Jason’s main mission right now was to kill Bruce. Kill the man Alfred saw as his son. Jason may have been crazy – according to society, to the Bat himself – but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that was enough to tear even the strongest bonds.
He hoped, though.
Hoped Alfred was a better man than he was. Hoped that family meant more to the old Brit than it did to him.
Than he thought it did to him.
He stood there a minute, staring at that old oak door. The one he ran in and out of a thousand times over. The slight autumn breeze ruffled the collar of his jacket, and he inhaled. Held the breath. Exhaled.
Now or never.
He knocked. One – two – three. Heard it echo through the foyer.
Alfred could arrest him. Knock him out and lock him up, at least until Bruce got back from the office.
The worst part was, Jason would probably let him. In an apology.
I’m sorry I’m so fucked up, Alfie.
He saw a shadow behind the opaque glass, tried to relax his shoulders. Glanced back down the drive, and the colorful trees around it, as he heard the locks being undone.
The swoosh of the door, and Jason closed his eyes.
He wasn’t ready for this.
“Hello, can I-” Alfred cut off with a strangled noise. Jason grinned dryly, turning back. Alfred’s eyes were wide, surprised and – like had Bruce had implied – pained. His lips were parted and…he looked old. Older than Jason remembered.
A few seconds of silence.
“…Master Jason?”
Jason humphed a laugh. Always so polite. Always so cordial.
He bet even the likes of Clayface would get a Master Clayface, here.
“Howdy, Alf.” Jason whispered. Tried to smile, like he used to. When he had no teeth and no pants. When his voice cracked and he thought he was made of magic. Familiar, not scary. Child, your child, not crime lord. Not murderer.
I’m not here to hurt you, Alfred. Please don’t hate me.
“Long time no see.”
It’d only been five years. But it seemed like a lifetime. And to Jason, really, it had been.
Please don’t hate me, Alfred. Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.
But Alfred stared. Still shocked, still dumbstruck, still silent. For at least another ten seconds.
And then suddenly.
He wasn’t.
Suddenly his face was morphing. Lips pulling back together in a smile, eyes crinkling in recognition and…and…
And warmth.
And love.
And Jason…felt a weight leave his soul. His shoulders slumped, his head cocked sheepishly to the side.
“Indeed.” Was all Alfred said. And, surprisingly, he stepped aside, then. Held his arm out in greeting. “Please, come in.”
Jason couldn’t hold back his grin.
Alfred loves me. Alfred still loves me.
Jason stepped across the threshold. And that seemed enough for Alfred. He nodded softly, just to himself, turning away to hide his own unbridled joy.
“You haven’t changed a bit, if I may say so sir,” Alfred joked, stepping away. “Still take your tea with two sugars, I presume?”
Just like old times. And suddenly – Jason knew his fears had been silly.
Family meant everything to Alfred – and he would never stop loving any of them, even if he tried.
“Of course.” Jason gently closed the door behind him. “You read the new Stephen King yet?”
“That and then some!” Alfred barked a laugh. He glanced back, hopeful, as if he thought Jason might have disappeared in the seconds he looked away. “We have a lot to catch up on, my boy.”
Jason pattered after him, feeling like the sixteen-year-old he never quite got to be.
“Can’t wait, Alfie.”