Maintenance around the manor and the cave was part of Alfred’s regular responsibilities in addition to cooking, cleaning and caring for his remaining masters. But the dear butler was not as young as he used to be. What he could normally do in minutes now took him longer and tired him easily. He first noticed this when his young masters Damian and Terry ran about the manor, their violent games of tag and their unbreakable perseverance to prove their father’s innocence. Just watching them exhausted him. Though the manor had never been livelier before they came.
After the death of Bruce and Terry he lost a spring to his step. The family had noticed and it wouldn’t be long before they stepped in and do something about it. He caught snippets of their conversations about lightening his workload. It warmed his old heart that they worry for him, he much rather have them spend their time resting and preparing for their nightly duties. He would hate to see any one of them in a coffin and buried. His old heart couldn’t take anymore if he were to lose another one from the family.
Four am, the family should be finished with the last of their patrols and returning soon. Alfred stashed the dried plates and glasses into the cabinets before he removed and folded his apron neatly at the counter. With a sigh, he turned to walk out of the kitchen and towards the study. If he wanted to greet them as they returned, he better start walking. His body wasn’t what it used to be.
His footsteps clacked softly in the silent halls then later in the cave. As he descended he noticed something odd. Ace was in the cave, normally he sat outside ever so watchful. It was strange to see him in the cave since Terry’s death. As he neared, he noted the dog lay next to an odd pile. Upon a closer inspection, he realized it was the motherbox Tim slaved over fixing and deciphering in hopes of getting Bruce back.
“Oh dear.” Alfred murmured quietly. “I do hope you didn’t break this.”
The dog’s ears flopped. The old butler sighed as he knelt down to gather the pieces, his legs protested, but he couldn’t leave it in such a state for Tim to return to.
It was an hour before the family returned. They looked exhausted. Damian was already in the process of stripping out of his gear when he jumped out of the bat-mobile. Tim on the other hand headed straight for the bat-computer.
“Welcome home.” Alfred greeted as Dick pulled off his cowl and ran a hand through his hair.
“Thanks Alfred.” Dick paused. “… Why is Ace here? Doesn’t he normally stay upstairs?”
“There was an accident, I’m afraid.” Alfred’s words paused both Tim and Damian in their tracks as they turned their attention to their old butler.
“What happened?” Dick asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
“I must apologize for my clumsiness, while cleaning, I accidentally knocked the motherbox Master Tim was working on, onto the ground. I’m afraid it’s in shambles. My utmost apologies.” He said.
“That’s all?” Damian rolled his eyes. “Tim could always fix it, why are you worrying about this stuff Alfred?” He continued to strip out of his gear and tossed it onto a workbench. Alfred secretly smiled at the boyish habit Damian has, but he could see the tenseness on Tim’s face.
“It’s all right Alfred, don’t worry yourself over it.” Tim said stiffly.
Damian let out a yawn as ventured up the steps. He needed sleep and nothing was going to stop him at this point.
“You didn’t break it did you Alfred?” Dick said once Damian was gone. “You’re covering for Ace.”
Alfred smiled sadly. “Master Damian does not know how difficult it is for Master Tim to do what he does with the motherbox. If he knew, Ace would be skewered in no time.” Ace padded next to the butler and nudged his face into the old man’s hand. “And Ace is what we have left of Master Terry. It’d be sad to see him gone.”
Tim sighed sadly. “I understand…” There was a lingering but in his voice, but he said nothing to the matter. “Where are the remains now?”
“I’ve placed them in storage, you can work with it tomorrow after you rest Master Tim.” Alfred said as he ushered for the remaining two to leave the cave and return to their room for some well-deserved rest.
“We can take care of ourselves Alfred.” Dick smiled gently. “Why don’t you go rest? It’s late.”
“Yeah.” Tim added. “We’ll head up once we change, get some rest Alfred.”
It was impossible to refuse their request. His old bones needed the rest and he was bound to resume his duties for the following day. Though, when it came time for him to do his chores, he realized the workload lessened. The cave was meticulously cleaned, the vehicles were maintained and the repair work was less than he expected. He found notes on preparation and plans for the monthly charity parties and a strayed attempt in tending to Ace’s needs.
Their sentiments were sweet, but they had little experience with chores they rarely touched. The cleaning was mediocre, he phantom a guess that Tim was the one who attempted to clean the manor. Alfred knew Tim was from a well off family, he was rare that the teen would ever needed to touch cleaning supplies. The party planning was obvious Dick’s work, too much fun and galore without much care in the class and grace that’s needed for a formal event. As for Ace, the chance of Damian being the one tending to the dog was high. If the mountain pile of food and lack of attention to Ace’s daily routines was any indication.
Alfred tried to take matters into his own hands, but Dick insisted they wanted to lessen his load. He had no choice but to teach each of them how the household worked. With Dick he taught the oldest Robin how to prepare a grand scale event for socialite society. From the invitation to the type of place setting on the table, it would be years before he managed to pull off what Alfred did on a regular basis. It amused him to no end whenever Dick came to him in a panic for advice. At first, he worried that it would be too stressful for the current Batman, but his worries were naught. Dick easily dealt with the stress on a good patrol.
Tim proved to be no trouble at all. While inexperienced, the third Robin was a fast learner and an excellent student. He easily picked up whatever he was told and repeated the actions flawlessly. Damian was another story all together. Maintenance around the cave was a simple task for him. Gears, engines and anything that dealt with mechanics was his playground. He could clean and repair them with little instruction.
Tending to an animal was a different matter. With Ace house trained, he needn’t worry about the house becoming a potential litter box. The food distribution could be easily remedied, but it was grooming Ace that proved to be Damian’s downfall. Once a week, Ace was designated to have a bath. To Damian, fighting an army of the Gotham thugs was easier compared to bathing the dog.
“Quit moving you stupid mutt!” Damian growled under his breath as he pulled the dog back to scrub and hose him down. Ace whined and shook his body violently. Soapsuds and water flew everywhere and drenched Damian in bath water. “Argh!” He growled in annoyance as the dog attempted to flee again.
Alfred held back a smile as he stepped in to help his young charge. “You’re doing it wrong Master Damian. The more you make him uncomfortable, the more he’ll resist you when you try to bathe him. Sponge please.”
Damian grumbled and handed the soapy sponge to Alfred’s waiting hand. It took a few attempts, but eventually the young Robin managed to bathe Ace correctly. And in a rare instance, the dog had taken a liking to the violent boy.
With everyone assisting him around the manor, he felt a heavy load off his shoulders, but his heart grew weary. He would not live forever, one day he will pass on and these boys would be on their own without him to serve them, to guide them. He needed to find a replacement… or at least trustworthy individuals that the family could rely on when he was gone.
Days, months and years, he spent searching for the right candidate he could trust his boys to, but he couldn’t seem to find someone suitable. He worried for them each time they were hurt, each time he found the simplest of chores difficult. Who would watch over them when he’s gone? Each time he asked this question, each time it was left unanswered.
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