Unspoken Truths

Though retired, the old butler remained keenly aware of the household, and knew exactly what everyone wore. So when his son opened the door in an ill-fitting outfit that was clearly not his own, with telltale marks on his neck, the sharp-eyed Alfred immediately paused in contemplation.

Avery: "…"

He felt that this "coming out" moment had arrived a bit too suddenly.

With two young men sharing a roof under less-than-innocent circumstances, who could reasonably expect that nothing would happen? It wasn't only Bruce who found it impossible to resist — even Avery who are normally reserved in such matters, didn't hold back. Seeking physical intimacy was perfectly natural, especially given the unique dynamic between them.

Though neither of them had explicitly discussed it.

Given that they no longer lived alone in the mansion, the two of them had mostly confined such matters to their bedrooms. On rare occasions, Bruce would seek Avery out, though more often, Avery ended up in Bruce's room. They hadn't planned to disclose their relationship because, to them, there wasn't much to announce. They didn't go out of their way to hide it, either. Since they weren't typically affectionate or sentimental in public, they had managed to keep it under wraps — until now.

But here they were, and Avery had been caught red-handed by his own father!

The silence became tense.

Facing his father's quiet stare, Avery's usual composure faltered, and he felt an uncharacteristic pang of embarrassment. No matter how calm he generally was, being discovered with Bruce — who was practically treated as a son to Alfred — was undeniably... awkward.

Despite the jumbled thoughts, Avery quickly reined himself in, a long-ingrained habit bringing back his composure almost instantly.

"I'll go change."

He nodded calmly, lifting his foot to make a quick escape to his room.

"Hold on."

Alfred's voice halted his son's retreat. Gazing at Avery — his otherwise easygoing, dependable child with just a few quirks — Alfred felt no shock over Avery's relationship or his sexual orientation, nor the desire to interfere. In fact, he was notably accepting.

Naturally so; had he not been, he would never have let Bruce spend so many years adventuring on his own or even supported his choice to become Batman.

Even so, as a father, Alfred couldn't help but harbor a few doubts. After all, life is long, and he couldn't guarantee the two of them would stay together indefinitely. If they ever parted, he worried they might not even remain friends.

In his eyes, the two young men had many issues yet to work through.

Perhaps no one in the house was better suited than Alfred to reflect on this matter. As the old butler, he knew both young men inside and out, and so while he was surprised by the revelation, it was not entirely unexpected.

In all fairness, Bruce had numerous admirable traits. He was resilient, intelligent, calm, steadfast in his beliefs, and unafraid of hardship. As Batman, he had saved countless lives without seeking anything in return, making him a true hero. Yet his flaws were just as apparent: Bruce was often suspicious, intensely controlling, and overly obsessive — traits few could endure.

As a father figure, Alfred had long accepted Bruce's idiosyncrasies, mostly because he feared that without change, Bruce would remain forever alone. Avery was similarly tolerant, but Alfred could tell that his son's acceptance stemmed more from an absence of personal demands. In cases where Bruce's decisions contradicted his, Avery often went along, simply because he rarely felt strongly about the outcome one way or the other.

Their relationship was, by all accounts, harmonious.

It was not surprising. Many people know the truth that when two hot-tempered individuals or those with clashing personalities pair up, conflicts often arise, resulting in arguments and tension. But when a couple has complementary temperaments, each able to play to their strengths, their relationship becomes naturally smooth, devoid of unnecessary friction.

This applied even to Batman. Avery and Bruce, complementary as they were, had few disputes.

Avery, for his part, was naturally reserved and introspective, accustomed to hiding his emotions behind a mask that few could penetrate. But this facade could not deceive a father. Alfred knew that, deep down, his son was not what one would call a "good man," especially when compared to Batman's moral standard. Avery lacked empathy, was indifferent to human life, and often feigned politeness. He observed human suffering without reaction, as though it were the most natural thing, rarely feeling compelled to act on it.

That said, Avery did have strengths. He was also highly intelligent, cool-headed, rarely rattled, and always approached tasks with calm precision. Although he wasn't concerned with the suffering of strangers, he would help on occasion if it was convenient, and he cared deeply about the well-being of those closest to him. If someone won his trust, Avery would look out for them unwaveringly.

This was the one genuine, human quality that stood out amidst his otherwise distant, almost godlike detachment.

Sometimes, Alfred wondered if he had failed in his role as a parent. Despite his efforts to raise Avery, it seemed his son's nature was innate, unaffected by nurture.

Still, regardless of personality flaws, Avery had never crossed any severe lines, which was likely why the two opposites had come together. For a man like Batman, one might think he could never fall for someone whose ethics were so far from his own. Yet here they were, bound by a connection that was hard to define, for no one understood Bruce better than Avery, nor brought his guarded heart to life as Avery did.

Of course, Bruce himself didn't consider his actions wholly just. Aside from his rule against killing, he was guilty of many crimes: privacy invasion, vigilantism, and more.

In reality, Bruce's standards were not impossibly high; as long as Avery did not turn to villainy or lead Gotham's underworld, their paths would not clash.

They had no inkling, though, of an impending confrontation that would soon test them both in ways they could not yet imagine.