His past, his reasons for returning, the secrets he kept, the things he had done in secrecy—all of these were proof of his lack of openness. Perhaps that was why he and Bruce had come to this standstill, divided by an invisible wall that Avery hadn't even acknowledged until now.
If not for his father's intervention, he might never have faced this reality, nor truly examined his own heart.
Far above on the third floor, the figure watching let out a quiet sigh.
"Avery, what are you hiding?"
"I understand," Avery said quietly, his voice resolved.
Alfred's gaze sharpened slightly. He knew his son too well; "I understand" didn't necessarily mean Avery intended to take action. It was like a student who understands the lesson but has no intention of doing the homework.
Avery, noticing his father's expression, couldn't help but smile. "Don't worry. I know what you're thinking. I just need a little time."
Time to resolve everything—then, and only then, could he address these feelings.
The conflict was drawing close, and he understood now that if the two of them were ever to move forward, they would need true honesty.
Alfred was, indeed, the perfect confidant.
Though, someone else remained the mastermind behind it all. Specifically, the one spying from the upper floor.
...
"But..."
At that moment, Avery stepped forward and stomped his right foot down hard.
With a satisfying "crack" echoing underfoot, he slowly turned back to Alfred and remarked, "I don't actually think I have much to reflect on, given that Bruce has never said anything formal to me. If anything, it seems he's the one who might benefit more from your advice."
"So, when do you plan to go?" he asked with a slight smile.
In the beginning, he'd assumed it was just coincidence that he'd been noticed—after all, they lived under the same roof, and running into each other wasn't unexpected. But the discovery of a listening device? That was no accident.
He clicked his tongue softly and ground his foot against the shattered remains of the eavesdropping device, as if squashing some vexing pest beneath him.
Meanwhile, in a room on the third floor, a man watched the scene unfold from afar, his expression briefly twisting before he sighed, rubbing his ear in mild discomfort.
The strike had been brutal, with absolutely no mercy.
"...I'll go shortly," Alfred responded, hesitating for a moment on the lawn below. After all, with the exception of young Dick, not one person in this mansion was easily fooled. They were all intelligent in their own right, making it hard to hide things from each other.
As the elder butler, Alfred sighed inwardly at the young men's complicated feelings and the role he had taken on as a mediator. He could recall, not so long ago, urging Bruce to ease up and maybe even go out with a few women.
Little did he expect that the "friend" Bruce eventually connected with would turn out to be his own son. Life, indeed, was full of surprises.
While Alfred had little personal interest in meddling in the romantic entanglements of the younger generation, he found himself nudging them along when neither seemed willing to take the initiative. The two were alike in their stubbornness and silence.
Such a pity! Not giving an old man a single moment of peace.
Alfred shook his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and quietly walked away.
What exactly he said to Bruce afterward remained a mystery, and Avery hadn't taken the time to investigate it either. The adults in the house had an impressive way of concealing their emotions, making the whole thing seem as if it had never happened.
Except, of course, for the fact that Bruce's dinner plate that evening was nearly overflowing with all the foods he disliked.
Bruce: "..."
His hand hovered briefly over his knife and fork, but eventually, he steeled himself and ate every bite, accepting his silent punishment with resignation.
Dick, already quite familiar with the household's dynamics, couldn't help but give a sympathetic glance at his foster father, wondering where, exactly, Bruce had gone wrong with Avery this time.
The normally lively and energetic boy was uncharacteristically quiet during dinner. Even though Dick didn't know the details, he sensed the unusual atmosphere in the house and chose to remain silent.
After dinner, though, Dick hesitantly made his request. "Bruce, can I finally go into the Batcave for a look today?"
After all, he'd just had his vaccine yesterday!
Between training sessions and Bruce's intention to keep Dick from these things too early, the boy hadn't been able to visit the Batcave yet. Dick had made similar requests before, but each time they were postponed due to the lack of vaccination—since bats carried various viruses, certain precautions were necessary. Yesterday, he had finally received his vaccine.
Batman, already preparing for his night patrol, considered Dick's request and, finding no reason to refuse, agreed.
"Alright, but make sure Avery goes with you," Batman added after a pause. "You can also learn from him how to operate the equipment."
In this way, Dick could stick to support tasks and avoid the more dangerous parts of night patrols.
At the moment, Bruce had no idea that his plan would soon fall through.
Dick, thrilled and completely unaware of his guardian's intent to sideline him, was consumed with excitement over the prospect of seeing the Batcave. Meanwhile, Avery—who saw through Bruce's every move—made a mental note of yet another of Batman's subtle manipulations. Today, it seemed everything Bruce did rubbed him the wrong way.
Batman: "…"
Soon enough, Batman was suited up and out the door. Those remaining were tasked with supporting him. Though Avery was briefly irritated about being roped into Bruce's plan, he still performed his duties meticulously.
Dick, meanwhile, gazed around the Batcave in awe, taking in the array of high-tech equipment. Many of these machines were incomprehensible, feeling as foreign to him as they would to any ordinary person.