Chapter Text
Alfred knew that being an eighteen year old CEO of Wayne Enterprises left his young ward with a heavy burden on his shoulders. Of course, that didn’t stop Alfred from being supremely disappointed when Timothy Drake pushed himself far beyond his limits. Despite his ward’s best efforts, he always eventually cracked under the pressure.
These breakdowns manifested in different ways. Sometimes Tim would go weeks without sleep, citing his extensive to-do list as an excuse. Other times he would shut himself away from his family. Tim’s siblings would drive themselves half mad looking for the boy who was most likely hiding in his closet with his meta-ability activated.
It would take days to get Tim out of these episodes and there were often times when his family tried to help but instead made him crack further.
It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon when Tim Drake cracked completely.
Surprisingly, it was his daytime activities that contributed most to the culpable pressure. A potential partnership with a foreign company was in the works at Wayne Enterprises. If solidified, Wayne Enterprise could find themselves with new technology and other valuable resources.
However the deal fell through after a mishap with some files and one too many scheduling errors. Bruce had taken the partnership failure in stride, brushing the loss from his shoulders and assuring investors that it was a minor setback.
Tim, on the other hand, seemed to take the entire project personally. Two meetings had to be canceled with this company due to the young lad’s health issues. Despite the fact that there was still the massive file mishap, that was not his fault, and dozens of other missed meetings, also not his fault, the young man had somehow convinced himself that this was all his fault.
Alfred had overheard Bruce one evening trying to convince Tim not to worry about the entire ordeal. It was just before Monday’s dinner and the family was spread out throughout the house. Tim and Bruce were huddled in the library, the latter sitting at his desk going over some old documents and the former huddled against the armchair by the window with a book open and forgotten in his lap.
Alfred had paused when he first passed the room. He immediately noticed Tim’s faraway look as he stared out the window.
“Dinner will be ready shortly, sirs,” Alfred announced to the room. Bruce mumbled his thanks, his eyes never leaving the paper in his hands, while Tim remained completely silent.
Alfred stayed frozen where he was. Tim’s entire body was tense and his hands repeatedly gripped and released the fabric of his jeans. Alfred’s gaze jumped to Bruce and, as if sensing he was under scrutiny, Bruce looked up from his paper.
Alfred’s gaze jumped between Bruce and Tim, settling back on Bruce with a meaningful glare. Bruce stared back with open confusion and Alfred couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Alfred waved a hand in Tim’s direction, growing more worried when he realized the poor boy didn’t notice that Alfred was silently talking about him.
Bruce took the hint and settled a more careful gaze on Tim. Alfred could see his son’s mind working as he analyzed every bit of information presented.
Bruce finally rose from his seat and strode to Tim’s side. Tim looked away from the window at the sound of Bruce’s approach and stared up at his father with a mix of confusion and shock. In a move that surprised even Alfred, Bruce crouched beside Tim and took both of his hands in his own. Tim stared at the points of contact with disbelief, his mouth halfway open in shock.
“Tim,” Bruce called softly. When Tim met his eyes Bruce continued, “Are you in your own head again?”
Alfred may think it was an odd question to begin with but at the same time there was no better way to convey what was going on before their eyes. The boy before them was just as likely to disappear from others as he was to lose himself in his spiraling thoughts. It was a sick combination of habits, neither one healthy nor helpful for the young man.
Tim’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded. He tugged on Bruce’s hands until the man was folded over Tim. Tim sniffled quietly into Bruce’s shoulder and Bruce let him. He only moved to climb onto the bench and pull Tim into his lap so he could properly hug his son. Alfred excused himself then, satisfied that Tim would get the comfort he so gravely needed.
As Alfred slipped out he heard one voice over the sound of Tim’s cries.
“None of it is your fault. And even if it was, I would forgive you. You’re more important than any business.” Tim’s cries rose in volume at Bruce’s assurance so Alfred guessed it was safe to assume that Bruce had hit the young boy's insecurity head on.
The morning after provided Alfred with a more refreshed looking Tim. Tim smiled brightly as Afred served him a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Bruce joined Tim a few minutes after, sitting beside Tim and making small talk over some articles in the morning newspaper.
It was peaceful and soothing and Alfred had high hopes for the day.
Damian joined soon after and Alfred hid amused smiles as the two younger Waynes bickered over nonsensical things. Duke was the last to join, his eyes drooping with the last dregs of sleep. Alfred placed some sliced oranges on Duke’s plate along with the rest of his food to ensure the boy would have enough fuel for his classes.
As the Waynes finished their breakfast Alfred ushered them out of the kitchen so they could get dressed for their days. He would be driving Duke and Damian to school while Bruce drove himself and Tim to Wayne Enterprises for work. Then Alfred would busy himself with his weekly errands until it was time to pick up the younger boys.
In the next hour he had Duke and Damian settled in one of the sedans and waved goodbye as Bruce and Tim exited the garage ahead of them.
After years of transferring young boys from the Manor to Gotham Academy Alfred had perfected a route that avoided most of the morning rush hour traffic. It allowed him to leave the Manor a little late and still arrive at the school on time.
He pulled up to Gotham Academy and waved with a calm smile as Duke and Damian hopped out of the car and hurried inside.
In the next two hours Alfred completed his errands in a peaceful state of mind. It was comforting to know where each of his wards were and know that they were relatively safe. It gave Alfred a moment to himself.
As usual, those moments did not last long. Alfred’s phone began ringing as he was loading groceries into the car. It was Bruce and Alfred answered the call on the second ring as he settled into the driver's seat.
“Is everything alright, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked without preamble. It was rare for Bruce to call him during a work day and Alfred was already running through multiple possible scenarios of what was going on.
“I need you to come get Tim,” There was a sound of protest somewhere near Bruce and he hushed the intrusion, “Press swarmed the lobby during his break and I don’t want him anywhere near them.”
Alfred’s heart warmed at the protective tone in his son’s voice but his face remained stoic as he steeled himself for an extraction.
“I will be pulling into the employee lot in the back. I will call when I am near.”
Bruce thanked him and they said their goodbyes. Alfred hurried toward Wayne Enterprises, leaving a trail of angry commuters in his wake. He didn’t care how many laws he almost broke, his grandson needed him.
Alfred passed the front entrance of the building, grimacing at the sea of reporters flooding the steps at the front and no doubt leaking inside. He ignored them and turned into the parking lot behind the building, where staff parked. Security waved him through the gate and Alfred called Bruce again, pulling up to the stairs that led to the back entrance.
Alfred waited till he saw Tim and Bruce before exiting the car and opening the passenger seat. Tim hurried to the car, looking frazzled and generally uncomfortable. His suit was rumpled and he carried himself strangely. He shut the door as soon as he was settled in the seat, curling up and wrapping his arms around his knees. He stared forward and Alfred got the impression he would not be hearing much from Tim on the ride home.
Alfred turned toward Bruce, who hadn’t lowered the phone he was speaking on.
“I don’t care what you think happened, I call this assault. My lawyers will be in contact with your company but I suggest that you get your reporters off my property before I handle them myself.” Alfred opened his mouth but Bruce’s shoulders hitched up at whatever response he received so he stayed silent. “Listen to me very carefully. Yes. Yes, I am sure it was your employees who caused my son to fall. I was there and I saw everything. Don’t you ever dare to doubt me again.”
Bruce hung up and exhaled, his grip on the phone turning his knuckles white. Alfred silently prayed for whichever reporters dared to harm his son’s children.
“Master Timothy fell?” Alfred asked, sending a cautious look back toward the sulking boy.
“He stepped outside to get some food from a street vendor and those vultures surrounded him!” Bruce spat, “He tried running back inside but one of those ass-” Here he cut off with a bashful look toward Alfred, “One of those jerks was right on his tail and he tripped.”
Bruce looked toward Tim with a face full of regret but Tim continued to stare ahead, “Gosh Alf, I should’ve gone out with him. I was in the lobby, I saw him fall!” Bruce grunted, shutting his eyes and taking another deep breath, “God, Alfred, he looked so tired.”
Alfred stepped forward, crushing the much larger man in a tight hug. Bruce curled over him, taking a few more steadying breaths before stepping back.
“I’ll work until Damian and Duke get out of school. I’ll pick them up, so can you stay with Tim? He said he's fine but I don’t want him alone.” Bruce looked too stressed for Alfred to even imagine denying him anything.
“Of course, my boy.” Alfred gave Bruce one last gentle smile and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. He looked over at Tim, meeting the young boy's tired look with a warm smile. Tim cracked a small smirk but almost immediately after his eyes brimmed with tears. He buried his head in his arms and Alfred let the boy hide for a moment.
Alfred had a sudden idea, looking around the surrounding lot to ensure that they were alone.
“You can disappear, young sir, if you would like,” Alfred offered. Tim nodded, still hidden in his arms. He blinked out of view in the next second and Alfred did his best to keep his eyes forward as Tim let himself break down.
The drive was silent, save for the soft cries from Tim’s invisible form. As they left the city, Alfred extended a hand toward Tim. Tim laced their fingers, staying invisible. His cries were lessening as Alfred maneuvered the car into the hills just outside of Gotham. They pulled up to the front of the house and Tim dutifully reappeared, a habit born out of their family’s fear of getting caught with their meta abilities.
Alfred followed the young man into the house and watched as Tim quickly retreated upstairs. Alfred allowed the boy a few moments to collect himself, excusing himself to the kitchen to prepare a snack for Tim; who most likely hadn’t had a chance to finish his lunch from the street vendor.
Alfred had a simple sandwich set up on a tray as he ascended the stairs. He approached Tim’s room with deliberately heavy footsteps. The last thing he wanted to do was startle the already frazzled boy. Tim’s door was closed and Alfred knocked softly before turning the knob and stepping inside.
Tim was situated on his bed, legs crossed and laptop open on his lap. His eyes were still red but he had changed into more comfortable clothes so Alfred took that as a good sign that the boy was feeling slightly better. He approached the bed, placing the tray on Tim’s nightstand. Tim murmured a quick thanks and turned his attention back to his screen.
Alfred’s heart tugged uncomfortably at the blank look on his grandson’s face. Alfred took a seat by Tim’s knee, receiving a perplexed look in response.
“Bruce said you fell.” Tim stiffened and his eyes widened as Alfred continued, “Were you injured?”
Tim hesitated before nodding. He sat up, moving the laptop to the side before removing his baggy sweatshirt. Alfred easily spotted the twin bruises on his forearms, likely from when the boy had tried to brace his fall against the pointed edge of the stairs.
Alfred took one of Tim’s hands in his own, examining the bruise before running his hand over the mark. The healing was quick and Tim’s arm looked good as new. He moved to the other, repeating the process until Tim was unmarked. Now Alfred only had to work on getting a smile back on his wards face.
Tim stared at his unmarked arms with a blank stare. His expression shuddered suddenly and he bit his lip as his breath hitched.
“Penny for your thoughts, young sir?” Alfred asked.
Tim’s eyes swam under a layer of unshed tears. Without looking away from his arms he murmured, “Sometimes, I wish I could just disappear whenever I want. I wish I could just go about my daily life without anyone actually seeing me. Then there would be a reason no one sees me.” He rubbed his arm furiously across his eyes as his tears finally fell, “I’m just so tired of everyone looking at me and being disappointed by what they see.”
Alfred opened his arms and that's all Tim needed before falling into Alfred’s warm embrace. The young man broke down in another round of tears as Alfred rocked him back and forth.
Alfred pressed Tim close, pressing a kiss to his hair and whispering, “Those who love you are never disappointed by what they see.”
Tim let out a loud sob in response, curling even further into Alfred’s embrace.
“Let us rest together, my boy. Things will be better tomorrow.” Alfred shifted, maneuvering Tim until both he and his grandson were laying against the pillows at the head of the bed.
Tim burrowed under the covers Alfred pulled over the two of them. His hands curled into the fabric of Alfred’s collared shirt. It struck Alfred then that his clothes would be wrinkled beyond saving but the distraught boy in his arms took precedent.
Alfred allowed himself to forgo all thoughts of his appearance and pulled Tim closer. They settled then, and Alfred watched as Tim allowed himself to drift off, his sobs subsiding to quiet sniffles.
Alfred smiled, watching the burdens lift from his wards face as he too drifted off. When Bruce arrived he and Alfred would discuss the best way to convince Tim to take a week off work. Then Alfred would make them all a warm meal for dinner and Alfred would allow Tim’s siblings to comfort him in their own strange ways.
Then Tim would heal and Alfred would worry just a little less.
But for now, grandfather and grandson slept soundly in each other's embrace.