“He’s doing better than I expected,” Alfred says to you in a whisper, glancing back to where Bruce is sitting in the dining room. The boy’s only eight and he’s lost both of his parents.

“I want him to open up to others,” he continues. “If you could help…”

He looks at you imploringly. Alfred’s aware he hasn’t been the best uncle to you. It’s selfish to ask this of you, but there’s nobody he trust Bruce with more than you.