sonofabctâ:
Life since the funeral had been⊠grey to put it into words. There was little emotion to be found in the day to day activities and even when Damian was out on patrols, they didnât bring him the same kind of closure and sense of belonging that they normally did. He had been âNightingaleâ for a short while now and, despite criticism on the multiple colors of his new suit and some people not being able to get past his old âRobinâ moniker, the public seemed genuinely accepting of his new role. He was even certain he saw a few social media blurbs about him the other day. Perhaps he could sit down with someone like Ms. Lane - really get Nightingale into the public eye so they understood. He was Robin no more.  Â
Times were different now, even as the city seemed the same as it always did - as he swung from building to building with his grapple. They were different - but not so much so that the sight of the elder gentleman entering an alleyway of all places didnât immediately have him reeling himself to ground level in a swoosh of his cape.Â
âAlfred, what are you doing cutting through an alleyway?â Damian stated sharply, glaring at him from behind his emerald mask. âFor that matter, itâs late. Why are you even out here?â
-
Alfred was proud of all the family, they were doing their best to move and invent themselves in a world where the man whoâd once bound them together was no more. Every time he stepped through the manor in Gotham it felt as though another memory had assaulted him, bringing him to a pause as he watched events from years ago play out once again. Soon it had been too much. Wayne Manor had too many ghosts within for him now. The Star City Manor was newer, it caused him less grief to move through its halls, to clean and cook and continually attempt to hold the family together as best he could. Though, it seemed they were doing so well without him.
At times it was too much, he needed to be out of the building. Years ago heâd have been found at the local pub, but now he simple left the manor in a long coat and hat and, walked... His feet trod the worn paths of the city with little care for his surroundings. It was just something to do until he moved him for a short sleep and it all began again.
He didnât start at Master Damianâs appearance, his new attire catching Alfredâs eyes. Had he seen him in it before? He couldnât recall. âGood evening Master Nightingale.â he said dryly, âAm I committing some issue with taking a walk as it strikes my fancy, Sir?â Â










