“We have to test him,” Jason hissed, voice low and urgent. He and his three brothers huddled in the secret passageway beneath the stairs, the dim light casting long shadows. Alfred could be anywhere.
“I agree. He must have metahuman abilities,” Tim nodded, mirroring Jason’s intensity.
“And how old *is* he?” Dick added, pacing. “He has to be immortal.”
“Pennyworth is at least seventy years of age,” Damian estimated, his voice cool and precise.
“I am not so decrepit as to be unaware when young masters discuss my name,” a slightly irritated voice cut through their speculation. Dick squeaked and instinctively retreated, collapsing back into Jason’s lap. Slowly, Jason turned, peering into the darkness.
Damian maintained a poker face, while Tim looked as if he might faint. Alfred was simply dusting – dusting the walls.
“I happened to be dusting the chambers,” Alfred explained calmly. “And I stumbled across this… meeting.”
The boys remained tense, their initial shock slowly fading. They rushed to Dick’s room, settling on the floor and his bed. After a full ten minutes, Jason spoke, waving his hands emphatically. “He’s always there at the right times!”
“Could that be coincidence?” Dick asked, uncertainty clouding his features.
“Yeah. A coincidence,” Tim muttered, looking unconvinced.
Damian rose from the floor. “I simply believe Pennyworth is spying on us.”
“But wouldn’t we *know*? We’re all trained by Batman,” Tim frowned.
Dick shook his head furiously. “He was also trained *by* Batman.”
Suddenly, Bruce chuckled from the doorway, startling his wards.
“What’s so funny?” Jason growled, suspicious.
“Alfred wasn’t just trained by the Bat, he’s *better* than the Bat,” Bruce said, his sons staring at him in astonishment.
“N-no way,” Tim stuttered, awestruck.
“I do not believe that is correct, Father. Why are you feeding us false information?” Damian demanded.
“Well, if he’s that good, why isn’t he Batman?” Jason pointed out.
“Because, Master Jason, my bones aren’t what they used to be,” Alfred stated, emerging from the shadows.
“How long have you been there?” Dick gasped.
“The whole time,” Alfred replied, turning to leave.
“What is he?” Tim asked, watching their butler depart.
“I have no idea,” Bruce sighed.
~Later that night~
“He could be a robot,” Dick suggested.
“Oh my god! He is! We have to prove it, though,” Tim exclaimed, his voice hushed with excitement.
“The old man is in the kitchen,” Jason informed. “Let’s go.”
“I shall not contribute to such trivial matters,” Damian huffed.
“Come on, demon. You’re coming,” Jason grabbed Damian’s wrist, dragging him out of the room. They settled in the living room, watching the kitchen through a camera feed on Tim’s laptop.
Alfred was cooking as usual. Dick was about to call off the mission when something unexpected happened. A glob of spaghetti sauce splattered across the camera lens, obscuring the view.
Oddly, they didn’t hear breaking glass, or any sound at all from the kitchen. “He threw it?” Jason asked, confused.
Tim shook his head. “No one can throw a can from that angle.”
“Well, Alfred could. Come on, before we get caught,” Dick whispered. The boys started back toward the hallway.
“Masters, next time you spy on me, please be more discreet,” Alfred appeared from the hall they were about to enter. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes, sirs.” With that, he vanished.
“Who knows, he could have levitated the sauce,” Jason added, filling the awed silence.
~Five minutes later~
The four boys were unusually quiet as their butler stood by the table, staring blankly ahead. “So… where’s Bruce?” Tim asked, disliking the silence.
“Master Bruce is… gone,” Alfred said emotionlessly.
“Wait, what!” Jason yelled.
“Inside voices, Master Jason,” Alfred reprimanded.
“I’m not going to use my inside voice! You just said Bruce Wayne is dead!” he yelled even louder, his voice cracking with fury.
Alfred didn’t flinch. "Not dead... just... gone." He finally locked eyes with Jason, his gaze chilling.
Jason was horrified.
“Pennyworth. Fetch me some more food,” Damian rudely shoved the plate into the man’s hands and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him.
“Something’s off. That isn’t Alfred,” Tim concluded.
“Then why does it look so much like him?” Jason screamed, edging toward panic.
“Jay, calm down—” Dick was cut off by the door exploding outward. Alfred’s eyes glowed faintly, then returned to normal.
“I dislike naughty young masters speaking behind my back,” he said in a voice that made even the Joker stop smiling.
“Yeah, that’s not Alfred!” Dick shrieked.
“Run to the cave!” Tim cried, and the others didn’t need further prompting. They were already sprinting.
The makeshift family sprawled on the cave floor, lockdown procedures already activated. There was no way the butler was getting in.
Damian muttered something about retreating being for weaklings, but the others ignored him.
“What do we do?” Jason gasped for air.
“We need to find Bruce,” Dick decided, patting Jason on the back.
“That’s our best shot,” Tim agreed. “Wait, what about Damian?”
“We need to kill him,” Damian declared.
The others stared at him incredulously before continuing.
“Okay, Tim and Damian, you two find Bruce. Me and Jason will hold Alfred off,” Dick ordered.
Then, as if summoned, Alfred materialized from the shadows, stepping between the two youngest.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
Tim stepped back as Alfred lunged. Damian kicked the butler hard on the head. Instead of flesh hitting flesh, there was a metallic clang.
A section of Alfred’s face fell back, revealing rows of mechanical parts. Damian hissed, cradling his foot, collapsing onto the cave floor.
“Go!” Dick yelled, hitting the robot with his escrima sticks.
Tim nodded and ran to the medical bay. Damian stayed behind, tending to his foot. Once Tim reached the bay, he was astonished by the sight before him. Bruce lay on the bed, a cloth gagged around his mouth, struggling against restraints.
Bruce, once freed, warned, "Look out, behind you!"
Everything went black.
“…And that was my dream,” Tim finished his story.
Jason burst out laughing, Dick gave Tim a concerned look, and Damian raised an eyebrow.
“Rest assured, Master Tim. I would not turn in a million years.” Alfred said, amusement evident in his eyes.
“So does that mean you’re a robot?” Tim asked. Alfred simply walked away. “Hey! You never answered my question!” Tim chased after him.
“A million years…” Dick mumbled. “So he’s an immortal dinosaur.”
“I heard that, Master Dick.”
===
A/N: I hope you laughed as much as I did when I made this.