Chapter Text
Alfred Pennyworth waited on the tarmac in the rain, watching as his employer's plane began it's final descent. A WayneTech Lightspeed private jet, the civilian spinoff of the more popular WayneTech Blackhawk military jet, it wouldn't be proper for Gotham City's favorite son to be seen riding in anything less than the best. Not there were many people to see his arrival, Bruce and Alfred had decided it would be better for Bruce to keep a low profile for now until they could determine the limits of their "project".
The "project", Alfred's blood ran a little bit colder at the thought. It had been a discussion he and Bruce had had many times over the years. At first Alfred assumed it was just the revenge fantasy of a traumatized child, a way for young Bruce to vent at a cruel world that orphaned him, and engaged Bruce in his dream of cleaning up the streets of Gotham personally, only chastising Bruce when his fantasies threatened to go from righteous justice to omnidirectional slaughter.
Then the trips began. Every Summer when school ended, Bruce used his late parent's connections, his dwindling company's resources to travel the world, searching for experts in martial arts, criminology, and any skills Bruce thought he would need for his future endeavors. At first Alfred had accompanied Bruce in his adventures, hoping that a solid direction and an expanded worldview would give Bruce a healthy outlet for his anger. Instead it just seemed to focus Bruce, coalesce his dream into something attainable, and push him to learn more dangerous skills. He and Alfred had argued about his safety, and eventually Alfred agreed to stay home and maintain Wayne Manor while a now teenage Bruce continued his training alone.
Alfred had never planned to become a father. Alfred had loved and admired Thomas and Martha Wayne, considering them to be more family than employers, and that love had naturally to their first son. But when fate had robbed him and Bruce's parents, Alfred had been at a loss. He had tried to maintain his previous relationship as the family butler as well as replicate how he thought Thomas and Martha would raise Bruce, in hindsight he had probably enabled the young child too much.
Not that the young Bruce hadn't been persuasive. Over the years Alfred had been amazed at the way Bruce excelled in all his studies. While he had always done well in school, the death of Bruce's parents had changed Bruce, suddenly it wasn't just that it was a good idea to do well in school, he had to be the best in all his classes, he had to win every competition, and by God he always did. What the traumatized Bruce lacked in emotional growth he made up for in mental and physical acumen. That same drive continued on his training adventures, Bruce mastered hand-to-hand combat and subterfuge at the rate that bordered on frightening.
As the jet descended onto the landing pad, Alfred felt the old guilt well up inside. Deep down, Alfred shared Bruce's resentment towards the city that had taken his dearest friends. Even deeper down, Alfred blamed himself for letting it happen. And as he had watched Bruce overcome every obstacle put in front of him and listened as Bruce formulated more and more of his plan to save Gotham, Alfred had actually started to believe him.
It had all come to a head in Bruce's second year in grad school. Bruce had wanted to attend college somewhere outside of Gotham and had enrolled in Metropolis University, then Metropolis Business School. Bruce spent six years traveling between Metropolis for his studies and Gotham to get use to running his parent's businesses. While Bruce still talked about his mission to save Gotham to Alfred, his school life started to take up more and more of his time, and Alfred thought maybe Bruce had finally found a more sane outlet.