A/n: This is my first attempt at a Batman fic, based on the challange/request from the wonderful Lael Adair. She wanted a fic that showed one of Alfred and Bruce's conversations about the Batman situation. I just decided to put a little twist on it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Batman. Nope.

Need

My hands tremble as I pull my shirt over my head. Damn. Ivy's toxin was a bit stronger this time. Normally I can just wait it out, I've put so many antidotes in my system by now, but this one—no, Bruce, don't think that way. You'll be fine, you just need some sleep. That's it. Sleep—

"Everything alright, Sir?"

Alfred. Should have been quieter.

"Yes, Alfred, I'm fine. I just need to—"

"You really shouldn't let yourself sleep in your condition. Poison Ivy's toxins have a way of getting one while they're down. I'll make some coffee."

He's gone before I can protest, and after a few minutes (hours?) I can smell the bitter-sweet aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen, and he's back with a tray. A warm cup is in my hands, and he's behind me, wiping away the blood that has dried on my shoulder from where Ivy's piranha plant got a taste of me.

"Alfred, really, I—"

"You should drank up, Master Bruce. Get the caffeine in you so that you can wait out the toxin."

He's right, of course, so I stop protesting and drink while he dresses my wounds. For the millionth time I thank the spirit of my father for leaving me with a butler who knows field medicine.

"You know, Sir, you really should start watching yourself a bit better. Tim has been doing an exceptional job since he's been back from his school break, and—"

"I can't give up, Alfred. Not yet."

"Sir?"

"The city is still too dirty. There is still too much danger out there, people still aren't safe."

"With all due respect, Sir, the city will always be dirty. It is its nature. Crime and violence has been around since the beginning of time, and while you've done your best to make it so that the people of Gorham can sleep, you are never going to be able to eradicate it all. Especially in your condition. Why it's been—"

"I know how long it's been, Alfred. And I know that Tim can handle it on his own—he's proven himself time and again that he's capable—but this city still needs me, Alfred."

"Does the city need you, or do you need the city?"

The conversation falls silent for a moment as I take in his words. The mug in my hands has grown cold, the coffee only half gone. Outside the sun is rising and I realize that I'm no longer as tired or groggy as I felt when I stumbled to the upper level from the Cave. Probably is the coffee taking effect. I sigh and put the mug back on the tray beside me.

"Alfred, I—"

But my voice echoes through the hall; the manor silent and empty as it was before. As it's been for years.

Quiet.