To tame a Demon (english)

Chapter 20: Wings don't want cages

It was a beautiful morning when Alfred was routinely preparing the breakfast. A tilted window in the panoramic glass wall next to the spacious kitchenette filled the room with a light breeze of fresh morning air and the chirping of birds in the front yard. A perfect morning in itself, if it wouldn't be shadowed by the quarrel between father and son.

Such escapades are nothing new for the old butler, considering the events of the past. However, the situation is inappropriate, especially for Dick's sake.

Alfred turned off the finnished coffee machine and put down his apron with a heavy sigh. Even though his foster son had already grown up so much, he still let his fear eat away at him and unnecessarily clung to a mask that tightly sealed his emotional world into a shell. Yet Alfred had assumed that over the course of the last few years this shell would slowly crumble sufficiently to finally allow the sight to the future.

It was exasperating.

And as he was already racking his's brains over the devil, it was not far away either.

Still half asleep, Bruce, dressed in a bordeaux red morning robe, entered the light-filled kitchen. As every day, he sat quietly at the large kitchen island and waited wearily for coffee to be poured for him, but there was one deviation. The billionaire was not sitting at the table in a half-straight position as usual, but rather leaned forward dejectedly, on his hands clasped at his head.

Alfred poured him the freshly brewed coffee, when he already started a conversation in a slightly sarcastic voice:

"Worries sir? I guess the ones with Master Dick weren't enough for you, apparently."

Bruce looked up and ran his fingers through his black hair once, exasperated:

"Well, it is obvious that even this matter wouldn't go unnoticed by you. When it comes to the Manor, you seem to be the better detective of the two of us."

Alfred raised a brow skeptically:

"Well sir, given the loud rumble of splintering granite last night and many indecent Utterances regarding your person in the course of this process, I came to believe there was a bit of a dispute between you and Master Damian."

Surprised, Bruce's eyes widened a bit:

"Splintering granite?"

"Apparently you were so sound asleep from lack of sleep that you didn't even notice the noise. Well one of the tombstones didn't make it through the night. Someone stole the sledgehammer from the tool shed and smashed it. I'm sure you can guess which stone it was. I'll have someone come out for this afternoon to clean it up."

Bruce looked out the large window for a moment and seemed to be looking at Wayne Cemetery, which was hidden behind trees and bushes.

He sighed heavily and resignedly rested his face on both hands:

"This whole thing has become a pure mess. But right now, Dick's situation just takes priority. The sooner he gets his memories back, the sooner I can be sure there will be no more danger from him."

"Sir, don't you think it would be far more effective to not keep Master Damian and at least Master Tim at such a distance? Especially with memory loss, isn't it just important to gather family and friends around him so that any memory pieces are stimulated? I know you have concerns, but don't you think it would be best?"

Bruce let out an amused snort:

"What's the best anyway? Tim has his hands full with Bludhaven and I know he takes his job very seriously. For him, a stable routine has just been established and this news would only tear him out of it again.