Brought up the British way :: W1nchester

[KingCrowley]

It had been around three months now since young ten year old Bruce Wayne's parents Thomas and Martha were shot before his eyes. Gordon had been investigating the murder and Bruce had gone into the care of the faithful Wayne butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce was usually very well behaved, but since his parents died, his grades had been slipping and his attitude had gotten worse. Not to mention he was a little self destructive now.

The boy was sitting in the main room, a candle in the middle of the table. He was going to teach himself to endure pain, and the only way to do that was to endure it. So he put his hand over the naked flame and let it burn. It hurt and he wanted to stop, but he continued.

"Come on Bruce, you can do this." he growled at himself.

[W1nchester]

Alfred didn't know if he should paddle his young master soundly or just hug him. He was traumatized. Not only was he now an orphan, but he had witnessed his parents' death, and that was horrific. Lately, the young master had been acting out--his usually perfect grades had been slipping, and his attitude had gotten brattier and brattier. He knew that Thomas Wayne would have spanked his son at the first failing grade he reported, but Alfred could hardly bring himself to. He hadn't wanted Bruce to hate him--he was the only one there for the boy...

Alfred had moved into the main room with the intent to make himself busy by cleaning it, but he saw Master Wayne sitting at the table, his hand over the naked flame and his eyes widened. Something just sort of clicked within him. "Young Master!" He exclaimed, running forth and he blew out the candle and moved it away from him, looking at the boy and he firmly took his wrist--but not too firm as to hurt him, looking at the burn on his hand.

"Come with me, Master Wayne. We are going to treat this wound." He said, voice low.

[KingCrowley]

Bruce looked up when his Butler ran in and blew out the candle, "Alfred!" he snapped and then frowned when the man took him by the wrist and looked at the burn on his hand. He looked away and shook his head when Alfred told him to go with him as they were going to treat the wound. "I can handle it Alfred." he answered, his own voice low. Since his parents' death, his personality had changed so much. He was usually so happy and fun loving, but now he never smiled and he seemed just so serious about things.

Like he wasn't a boy anymore.

Still, he knew he had no choice when Alfred started leading him to where his Father kept the first aid kit. He sighed and held out his hand, letting Alfred treat it, "One day I'll be used to the pain, I need to keep enduring it so I can overcome it."

[W1nchester]

Alfred frowned at the boy as he said that he could handle it, turning away from him. "I'm still going to dress it, Master Wayne." He said firmly, leading him towards where the first aid kit was still kept, keeping his firm hold on the little boy's wrist. He got out the first aid kit and then began to very gently dress the wound, looking up at the boy as he said that one day he would be used to the pain, and that he needed to keep enduring it so he could overcome it.

"That will never happen." Alfred said simply. "Your skin will still burn. Your nerves will still work. The scars will be reminders of the pain that you had to endure and it will drive you mad." He said softly.

[KingCrowley]

Bruce listened as Alfred said that it would never happen, he would never be able to over come pain and the scars will be a reminder of the pain he had to endure. The boy looked down and sniffed somewhat, tears pooling in his big blue eyes. "Well...what about emotional pain?" he asked and felt some tears go sliding down his young face, "Can someone ever overcome emotional pain, Alfred?" he asked, looking up at him and silently begging for a way to overcome the emotional pain he had been feeling since his parents died.

He had Alfred, and he was grateful for that. But it wasn't the same thing.

[W1nchester]

Alfred looked back the boy as he sniffled, noticing the tears in his eyes. Bruce asked him of emotional pain, and he sighed silently through his nose. He reached out, affectionately carding his fingers through Bruce's hair, fixing it for him as he spoke. "Emotional pain is a lot like physical pain." He started. "It hurts a lot at first. But eventually, the pain begins to fade. You will never forget why it hurt so bad, but you will also realize that it doesn't hurt anymore." He explained, thumbing away the tears on his young master's cheeks.

"But to do away with emotional pain, you should not try to make yourself forget why it hurt. You shouldn't ever try to forget it. You have to deal with it, the entire way through, and one day it just won't hurt anymore."

[KingCrowley]

Bruce was glad he had Alfred around, without him there to comfort him and make him see reason, he would be so alone and go mad with all this depression. "I wish it wouldn't hurt now..." he answered sadly and wiped his nose on his sleeve since he didn't have a tissue handy. He had nightmares about his parents' deaths each and every night, he would lose so much sleep because he'd be too scared to close his eyes.

"Is there anything I can do to lessen the pain, Alfred?"

[W1nchester]

"I know, young master." Alfred said softly when the little boy sniffled, saying that he wished that it didn't hurt now. He saw him wipe his nose on his sleeve, Alfred reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief and he handed it to the boy. "Use this, young Master." He instructed, before running his fingers through Bruce's hair again.

"Try to do things that make you happy." Alfred advised him. "Do not deny yourself the simple things because you are afraid, or upset. You'll only regret not doing them, later."

[KingCrowley]

"Thanks Alfred..." Bruce sighed sadly when the man handed him a handkerchief. He wiped his eyes and nose and then looked up at the man when he told him to try and do things that made him happy, "That's easier said than done, things that used to make me happy don't mean anything anymore..." he explained and nodded when Alfred told him not to deny himself simple things. "I guess not..." he agreed and then sat down on the sofa, sighing and putting his young head in his hands.

"I think I might call it an early night Alfred, goodnight." he told him and got to his feet again.