“Alfred enlists me when he needs it and all the kids, friends, and just about any adult who visits and knows us, he pulls in. I don’t anyone could live with telling him no. He’s getting on in age but it’s a point of pride for him right now. In a few years we’ll probably sit down and talk more about it,” Bruce admitted, his fist sitting on the counter clenching hard enough the knuckles were a sharp white.
Bruce didn’t like thinking about it, Alfred aging. He knew it was happening. He had lived with the man his whole life or at least the most out of anyone else in his life. Alfred was so much to Bruce and his family and friends knew it. Alfred was a friend and father and butler while also being a confidant and medic who could build him up and tear him down when he needed it. The thought of him getting older was not foreign but being weak or needing help? It hurt and tore at something in Bruce. He needed Alfred the same way he had when he was a little eight year old. He loved Alfred.
Ah, Diana had caught him in his not lie but not the whole truth. His eyes flickered to the cup as he had to actually think about unclenching his hand and pick the cup up to take a drink. It was probably good. He couldn’t tell for all the thoughts racing in his head. She could have handed him poison at this point and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.
“I do Diana,” he assured her, “But work comes first, you know that. A day off for me could get half of Gotham a death sentence. With the CEO and night jobs I take there is no room for free time. I have to keep moving and working.”
He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. He knew he had limits and he was pressing closer and closer to them everyday. He wasn’t as young or as optimistic as he used to be. His body and heart ached with years of wear and tear. He was reminded of his life every morning when he looked in the mirror before putting clothes on. Yes, he liked living because it meant changing lives for the better but he wasn’t sure when had had actually stopped living.
That was one of the many tragedies of mankind. Age. Mortality. The Amazons were not without death, but she couldn’t remember anyone who had died of age. Even the oldest amongst them was strong of heart and able of body. And Alfred? He was the first she had gotten close enough to, to see age in real time. And Bruce as well. Steve had died young and in war. And the others she had met over the years had met tragic fates, but it had never been slow for her. Not like this. Time, she thought, was both a blessing and a curse. Thankful that she had it. But sad what it would do to her as the years turned to centuries.
“He’s lucky to have you. And the kids.” A family that loved him and one that he had seen grow over the years. She couldn’t imagine a happier life. (She could — but not the life that she could possibly live. Nor one that Bruce could either.) Diana looked at his hands, the tension in them that turned his knuckles white, the grip he had on the marble as he tried to speak lightly while his mind and his heart… they ached. They must have.
Diana reached out, her hand carefully resting on one of his. “You don’t have to hold back what you feel,” she told him. “Not with me.” Nor with Clark, she imagined. The three of them were in a unique position to understand each other. In age, in responsibility. They had done so much as a team. And for Bruce to try and contain what he felt? It felt like a disservice to himself.
Bruce had an excuse for everything. It might have been harsh, but that was what this was to her. Excuses that were lined up. Reasons for him to work himself to the bone until he couldn’t function. (Perhaps she was overstepping, being back for such a short time and telling Bruce that he should take some time for himself without looking at what had been happening in the city during her absence.) Even as she kept telling him to take care of himself, there was a sadness that was etched into her words and features. They were all the same. Ready to put down their lives for this world. Willing to work until they couldn’t move. Something told her that Bruce would be putting on the cowl until he was physically unable to.
“I know that,” she admitted. “But I also have Cassie and Donna. They might not see it the way I do, but they are more than capable of protecting this place when I cannot.” Diana didn’t know if they saw it in the same light as she did, one of trust, but she looked at the two of them and felt that the future — their future, could be a bright one. She just needed to have faith. “One night to yourself shouldn’t have such a deep cost.”
