Chapter 2

Master Bruce never went back to his former school. Alfred immediately started calling every public school, private school and institute he could think of – and then every other contact he thought might know someone who would be qualified not only to homeschool a brilliant but grieving and very angry child.

Alfred wasn't about to put Master Bruce through the hell of trying out one tutor after another. Only one would enter the manor – the right one. And Master Bruce had been very clear about one thing: He didn't want a female teacher. Obviously, Mrs. Simmons's well-meant but badly executed intrusion into their lives had added yet another scar to Master Bruce's growing collection, so Alfred would humor him – for now. It didn't make his task any easier though.

In the kitchen, Alfred prepared a meal designed to entice Master Bruce to eat something more nutrious than chocolate and cake. That's when the long-awaited phone call finally came.

In his mid-thirties, William Brooke was not simply a teacher, but a counselor experienced in dealing with troubled and traumatized children. He was often called in by schools when they couldn't handle more serious cases. Most important of all, he seemed to be a genuine person, likeable, honest, and invested, someone who didn't work the special cases because he wanted the recognition or remuneration but because he simply cared. At least according to Mrs. Dawes. She had met the teacher in question at Rachel's school last week and thought he might be the perfect tutor for Master Bruce. Alfred had left a message with the school's secretary immediately.

Alfred picked up the old-fashioned receiver of the fire engine red telephone Mrs. Wayne had found in the cellar a few years back and loved so much that she decided it had to be put to good use again. "Wayne Manor."

Alfred caught himself smiling when he heard the younger man's over-enthusiastic greeting at the other end.

"Uhm, hello? My name is William Brooke. I heard you were looking for a tutor for your son?"

Alfred didn't comment on Mr. Brooke's choice of words but thanked him for calling, instead asking the teacher a few questions about his previous engagements.

His answers showed how much the young man loved to teach and take care of his pupils, so Alfred asked him to meet him in town the next day to get to know each other – and talk about some of the details regarding Alfred's current dilemma. Mr. Brooke agreed immediately, and Alfred hung up with a small smile on his face. "And a good day to you, sir."

The additional day would give Alfred time to check Mr. Brooke's, but he had a feeling too much caution would be unnecessary. He hoped that his search was finally over. Sometimes you just had to trust your instincts.

Mr. Brooke's references checked out, and Alfred had gotten to know the possibly newest addition to the Wayne household as a gentle but firm man who paid great attention to the person he was talking to without being intrusive or chumming up – an admirable trait in someone who was dealing with the scion of one of the wealthiest families in Gotham. His handshake had been firm when he greeted the butler in the small coffeeshop Alfred had chosen for their first meeting. His face was honest although creased with slight lines of worry and pain. His life hadn't been an easy one.

Because his assignments as school counselor were mostly short-term and had required him to drag his family across the country frequently, Mr. Booke was eager to take the job. Alfred promised to make a few calls to help them find suitable housing, but first Master Bruce and his future tutor must meet – and get along.

Of course, Master Bruce chose the day Alfred had invited Mr. Brooke to the manor to stage a rebellion against his guardian's plans regarding his future. Bruce had agreed to studying at home with a tutor, but that didn't mean he was actually fond of the idea – it was merely the lesser of two evils in his eyes – but Alfred hadn't expected the open hostility that greeted him at the breakfast table.

Master Bruce didn't say anything – he didn't have to – but munched on his toast with a resentful air. It would be too much to say that Bruce had enjoyed his spontaneous "holiday," but it was obvious he didn't want his learning-free time to end. Or maybe it was just his recently awakened suspicion of every stranger that made him resent his tutor without ever having met the man.

Alfred's heart clenched to think how much his young charge had changed since that fateful day. Formerly an open and friendly child who had looked into the future with hope and joy, he now spent his days brooding in his room or high up in the old oak behind the terrace, where he thought Alfred wouldn't know how to find him. He rarely spoke anymore, and there was a suspicious depth and knowing in his eyes Alfred couldn't describe even to himself. There was anger there, too, and much pain, but the boy still refused to talk about his feelings.

Alfred worried about his charge night and day, but he still wasn't ready to admit defeat and call in professional help. Maybe Mr. Brooke's experience and friendly nature would be enough to allow the boy to adjust to the changes in his life and get comfortable in his own skin again. Alfred simply refused to believe that the child would never laugh or play again.

The sound of the bell announcing a visitor at the gate shook Alfred from his musings. Master Bruce was up and out the door before Alfred could even think about saying anything. He decided to leave the boy alone for now, dropped his napkin on his empty plate and went to open the gate.

When the two men entered the kitchen a few minutes later, Alfred quietly explained the layout of their surroundings and indicated the rooms and corridors leading from where they stood. Master Bruce was nowhere in sight.

Alfred had decided that if Mr. Brooke really wanted to help them and teach his troubled charge, then he needed to see – almost – every side to their current situation. That included half-eaten breakfasts and the cozy kitchen where Bruce and Rachel used to spend many hours playing. They had often watched Alfred or Mr. Dawes prepare their meals here, grabbing a snack of this or that when they thought nobody was looking.

Mr. Brooke glanced at the breakftast table which had obviously been left in a hurry by its occupants but merely raised an eyebrow in Alfred's direction and sat down in the empty chair Alfred indicated. He accepted a cup of coffee and settled back comfortably when Alfred returned to his usual place at the table to Mr. Brooke's left. Master Bruce's toast with only a few bites missing seemed to stare up at him accusingly.

When he looked up, Alfred saw Mr. Brooke watching him. "I guess he didn't take it well?" the teacher asked dryly. Alfred had to smile in spite of himself, then shook his head.

"No, he didn't. I had expected him not to like that you were coming today – after all, he is just a boy, and I am sure he would like to extend his vacation a little longer – but I didn't think he would run off like that. I thought his curiosity would make him stick around to take a look at you, at least."

The moment the words left his mouth, he heard a quiet swishing noise in the corridor, and catching Mr. Brooke's eye, he saw that the other man had heard it, too. Obviously, Alfred hadn't been too wrong about his charge after all.

Ignoring Master Bruce's bout of eavesdropping for now, he only nodded at the teacher and offered him the jug in front of him. "Milk?"

Ten minutes later they were still making small-talk and Mr. Brooke was in the middle of telling Alfred a story about how his youngest daughter had managed to get stuck high up in a mountain ash once, when Alfred decided it was time to end the charade. The moment he tried to rise, however, Mr. Brooke gestured for him to stay seated and finished his story.

"She never climbed a tree again after that – but she still loves to scramble up every boulder she can find. Fancy that." Sending a conspirational grin toward Alfred he continued, changing the topic without even missing a beat. "So you told me that Bruce has always been ahead of his class?"

Alfred blinked in surprise but played along. "Yes, until recently, at least. His teachers even suggested that he be tested and maybe be allowed to skip a grade, but Mr. and Mrs. Wayne hadn't decided yet when…" His voice trailed off. A noise came from the direction of the hallway. Alfred followed Mr. Brooke's example and went on as if he hadn't heard. "His intelligence is definitely above average, so I'm not worried about his ability to catch up with the rest of this year's curriculum."

Alfred couldn't quite hide his pride in his charge shining through in his words. The younger man only smiled at him and nodded in understanding.

"I see," Mr. Brooke said. "Maybe I could take a look at his school work? It would help me a lot to see what and especially how Bruce has learned until now if I want to develop my own course of instruction for him."

Alfred rose. "Of course. I will show you to his room."

Mr. Brooke followed his example and stood slowly, but then he turned toward the door without leaving his place next to the table. "Maybe Bruce could show me." He paused and raised his voice a little. "Would you, Bruce?"

At first, nothing happened, but after a few silent seconds, the eavesdropper appeared in the doorway, a mixture of anger and curiosity on his face. His whole posture screamed that he wasn't sure whether he should run again or endure Mr. Brooke's presence. To Alfred's surprise, the boy stayed close to the door-jamb where he'd been hiding and addressed the teacher directly.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked suspiciously.

Mr. Brooke regarded him carefully and replied, "You really need to work on your stealth." There was nothing but honesty and respect in his demeanor.

Alfred was glad to see that he didn't make the mistake of trying to talk to Master Bruce as if he were merely a troublesome child who needed a strong hand – which he was, in a way – but treated him as an equal who deserved an honest and serious approach.

Bruce thought about that for a moment and finally nodded. "I will."

To Alfred's surprise there was a hint of steely resoluteness and earnestness in Bruce's voice which meant that he would do exactly as he'd said. Master Bruce didn't like things half-done.

Mr. Brooke nodded as if it were a promise he'd expected. "Okay. And I think you already know, but my name is Willian Brooke."

Bruce didn't reply.

"Now that we've finally met, would you like to show me your school books, please? Mr. Pennyworth tells me you're a really good student."

Alfred cringed inwardly because Mr. Brooke's reply sounded too much like something any new tutor would say to his pupil, trying to take him or her in, but it was true, of course. Master Bruce had been a really good student once, before his grades started dropping.

Bruce looked back and forth between them, and Alfred held his breath. You never knew what Master Bruce's reaction would be these days; but he'd stayed and even asked a question of his own accord which showed that there was still hope for this to work.

The child fixed his unsettling gaze on Mr. Brooke, his brow furrowed in thought. Then he asked the question Alfred had hoped he wouldn't until they'd had a chance to talk about this again. The boy was definitely too smart for his age.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, not giving up his position in the doorway.

"There are several reasons why I'm here, Bruce," Mr. Brooke replied calmly. Obviously, it wasn't the first time he had to endure such a weird kind of job interview in his life – by a child, no less. "Mr. Pennyworth asked me to become your tutor. He told me that you needed someone to teach you at home, and since I am a teacher, I said yes."

Bruce's gaze never wavered, and Mr. Brooke continued, ignoring the silent stare that had intimated a lot of people over the past few months.

"Secondly, I needed a job. I have a family, you know. My wife looks after our children at home, and I'm the one who goes to work every day. I work at the school your friend Rachel goes to..." – Bruce didn't even twitch this time – "...but it is only a temporary assignment which ends next week."

He paused for breath, and Master Bruce interrupted him before the teacher could give another reason. "I don't want your pity," the child hissed, the anger coming seemingly out of nowhere.

Alfred started to intervene, but Mr. Brooke held him back with an upraised hand. "Is that why you think I'm here? That I feel sorry for you and want to 'make everything better'?" He painted quotation marks into the air when he said that last part, making it clear that he wasn't too fond of the idea either. "I'm not a psychologist, Bruce. I studied some educational psychology, yes, but I'm not here to force you to do anything you don't want to or to make you to talk about what happened – unless you want to, of course."

Alfred thought it highly unlikely that this would happen any time soon but decided to keep quiet in order not to disturb the battle of wills playing out in front of him.

"I care about all my pupils," Mr. Brooke conceded as if he hadn't noticed the unbelieving gaze coming from the doorway. "I love to teach, and I want to help my students learn and discover things. But I'm not a shrink."

He paused and met Master Bruce's eye. "Do you think you can accept that?"

The child mulled this over in silence, and Alfred could almost see the thoughts chasing each other in his head which was already filled with too many dark memories and thoughts. What would he decide?

Alfred had promised not to force him, and he intended to keep his word – but his instincts told him that Mr. Brooke was the right man for his young charge right now. He really hoped he hadn't been wrong.

At long last, Bruce broke his disconcerting stare and nodded once. "I believe you." And with that, he turned around and started toward his room on the upper level, not waiting for them to follow. Mr. Brooke looked at Alfred questioningly who smiled and gestured for him to go on. "I think he's accepted you."

With a new spring in his step, Alfred followed the retreating back of his small master and their new tutor up the stairs. Unorthodox introductions aside, this meeting couldn't have gone better.

Mrs. Simmons would be pleased.