Chapter Text
At first, Alfred thought he was hearing things. It was a warm day, after all, and he had been out under the June sun for nearly an hour at this point working on his prized roses. The Bristol County variety show was coming up in a few weeks, and Alfred would be damned if Mrs. Benning stole first prize from him again.
But then he heard it again. A small, high pitched voice, cutting through the late summer breeze.
“Excuse me?”
Alfred raised his head and looked around, unable to find the source. The garden was empty around him; nothing but a few birds and squirrels occupying the nearby bushes and trees.
“Mister?” The childlike voice called again, a little bit louder this time. Alfred swung his head towards the source of the noise, his eyes trailing up the tall stone wall lining the grounds and landing on the oak tree peeking over from the neighbor’s property. Alfred’s eyes widened when they landed on a small boy, no older than five, perched in the branches and almost completely concealed by foliage. His tiny hands were clutching the trunk tightly.
For a moment, Alfred inspected the black hair and blue eyes of the child and feared Bruce had picked up another one without informing him. Then his eyes adjusted and he recognized the child as being the neighbor boy.
“Hello, young man,” Alfred kept his tone calm as he approached the wall. “May I ask what you’re doing in that tree?”
The boy’s cheeks flushed red. “Wanted to see the robin’s nest,” He looked up to a branch above, where there was, indeed, a small bird's nest, although Alfred could not confirm if it belonged to a robin. “I’m a really good climber. But now I‘m stuck.” The last words were mumbled as the boy pouted, chin tucked to his chest.
“Oh dear, that is a predicament,” Alfred frowned. “Is there anyone with you over there?”
The little boy shook his head, fluffy black hair falling into his eyes. He attempted to blow his bangs away, but they immediately flopped back down. “No, Miss Claire is inside studying and can’t hear me.”
Alfred wasn’t sure who Miss Claire was, but he nodded anyway. “Well, if you were able to get up, then there is surely a way down. Are you able to reach the branch below you?”
The boy shook his head. “It broke.”
“I see,” Alfred thought for a moment. “Wait right here, I will fetch a ladder.”
Alfred half expected the boy to protest his leaving, but he simply nodded in acceptance. Alfred made quick work of retrieving the ladder from the garden shed and stabilizing it below the tree. The trunk was close enough to the property line that Alfred didn’t have to cross over the fence.
Alfred quickly ascended the ladder, well practiced after years of fetching Master Dick from chandeliers, the tops of cabinets, and other ridiculous locations around the manor. Once he had reached the branch the boy was settled on, he held out a hand.
“Alright, lad. Just reach out to me, and I will carry you down.”
Big, owlish eyes stared at Alfred’s hand, glanced down at the ground, and then back at Alfred. The boy clutched the tree trunk tighter, shaking his head.
“Actually, I’m fine here,” he managed to stutter out, doing a valiant job of hiding the fear in his voice. Something in Alfred’s heart softened at the attempt at bravery.
“What is your name?” Alfred asked, using his gentlest tone.
“Timothy,” the boy responded, still clinging to the tree like a limpet.
“Well, Timothy, my name is Alfred Pennyworth. And this is not my first time rescuing little boys from trees. I promise, I will not let you fall. All you have to do is reach out.” Alfred’s hand was as steady as his voice as he worked to reassure Timothy.
It took several more minutes of coaxing before Timothy finally reached out, urged on by gentle encouragements of “that’s right” and “there’s a brave lad.” Soon enough, Alfred’s wrinkled hand was gripping Timothy’s smaller one tightly as he guided him over the fence and onto the ladder. As soon as he was close enough, Timothy wrapped his arms and legs around Alfred, clinging tightly. The child buried his face in Alfred’s shoulder, trembling all over. Alfred took it in his stride, making quick work of descending the ladder.
Once his feet were on solid ground, Alfred gently tapped Timothy on the back. “Alright, Master Timothy. You’ve done it.”
Timothy hesitantly lifted his head, tense body relaxing when he saw that he was, as promised, on the ground. The boy wriggled out of Alfred’s grasp, landing on his feet.
Alfred knelt down, looking Timothy over. He didn’t appear to be harmed, but…
“That was very brave of you. Are you hurt at all?”
Timothy shook his head, twisting the hem of his shirt around his fingers. “No, sir. But I wasn’t brave. I almost cried like a baby, and you had to save me.” Shame coated his voice as he frowned at the ground.
“And yet, you still managed to get down, even though you were frightened. I would say that was very brave,” Alfred countered.
Timothy’s cheeks flushed once again, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. And thank you for helping me.”
“Please, lad, call me Alfred.” Alfred rose to his feet.
Timothy finally looked up, a real grin spreading across his cheeks. “And you can call me Tim! I mean, if you want to,” he tacked on at the end.
Alfred returned the smile. “Very well, Master Tim. Now, may I escort you home? I suspect your grown ups are missing you.”
Tim surprised Alfred by slipping his hand into Alfred’s own, little fingers wrapping around Alfred’s pointer and middle fingers as the boy nodded in agreement.
It only took about ten minutes to circle around to the front gate and guide Tim back to Drake Manor. Tim was quiet during the walk, slipping into a skip every few feet before returning to a steady walking pace. Alfred made sure to walk more slowly than he normally would, mindful of the child’s short legs.
After climbing the few stairs to the large front doors, Alfred rang the doorbell. The door was opened a moment later by a slightly frazzled looking young woman. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, with straight blonde hair and a kind face.
“Can I help you?” A polite, but slightly confused, look colored her features.
“Hi Miss Claire!” Tim bounded forward, releasing Alfred’s hand and returning to the woman’s side.
“Tim!” The girl’s eyes widened, surprise and confusion clear on her face. “You’re supposed to be napping! What in the world are you doing out here?” She crouched down, hands on Tim’s shoulders as she began scanning him for injuries, just as Alfred had done minutes before.
“I wanted to see the birds.” If Tim recognized the worry on his nanny’s face, he didn’t show it as he smiled up at her. “But I got stuck in the tree. Mr. Alfred helped me down!”
Miss Claire sighed in exasperation, the barest hint of fondness tugging at her lips. “You know better than to go outside alone.” The young woman rose from her crouched position, turning to Alfred. “Thank you so much for bringing him home safely.”
“It was my pleasure.” Alfred reached out a hand to the young woman. “Alfred Pennyworth, at your service.”
“Claire Agnew.” She shook his outstretched hand. “I’m Tim’s nanny for the summer. Do you live in the area?”
“I serve in Mr. Wayne’s household, just next door.” Alfred answered politely.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened at the name. “I see. Well, thank you again, Mr. Pennyworth. I need to get this one to bed.” Claire reached down, ruffling Tim’s hair and causing the boy to giggle.
Alfred wasn’t sure what made him offer. On a whim, he reached into his chest pocket, pulling out a business card. “If you or Master Tim are ever in need, please don’t hesitate to call. Both Mr. Wayne and I are at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” Claire took the card, slipping it into her pocket. “I will keep that in mind. Tim, do you want to say goodbye? It really is past your nap time.”
“Bye, Mr. Alfred!” The little boy waved his hand wildly in the way only small children could. “Thanks for helping me out of the tree!”
Alfred couldn’t help smiling in response. “You are very welcome, Master Tim. Have a nice nap.”
Alfred made his way back down the driveway, cheerful farewells being called from both Tim and his nanny as he returned to Wayne Manor.
The next time Alfred was running comms for patrol, he decided to take advantage of the computer access (he refused to use Richard’s ridiculous name for the machine) and learn more about his neighbors. Preliminary research showed that Timothy Drake – Tim, he reminded himself, – was almost seven years old, not four or five as he had predicted. He also discovered that the Drake family spent most of their time abroad, which explained why he couldn’t recall seeing them before.
This was further supported when he mentioned meeting the neighbors to Bruce. His pseudo-son had a look of mild surprise when Alfred brought up the Drakes, a look only visible to the trained eye, and admitted to not knowing they had a son.