September first had dawned and the cold had finally settled on the darkest city that the planet had ever dared to own, not that it wasn't ever cold in dark and depraved Gotham City, but the weather man in the skies had decided that winter had been put off long enough and thrust the city into the freezing abyss that was the "dead season". A man, who had been awake for more than forty eight hours already due to the worries that plagued his young soul, sat on the top most balcony in his mansion situated in the Palisades either not caring about the chill in the air or forgetting entirely as he gazed to the skies. The scuffing of shoes of his butler only distracted him momentarily for him to return to his watchfulness of the dark. His butler drew up to him his expression only slightly betraying the signs of worry of all the happenings which had occurred and he smiled because he had to so that the rest of the world could continue with living.

"Waiting for the sun to come up? Because it isn't going to show up for another few hours," He attempted meekly at a joke to ease the young man's apparent distress, but took on a more sombre note when he saw that it did not work. "Relax, Master Bruce, she will have sent a letter to confirm her arrival to school and her settle."

"What if she hasn't arrived though, Alfred? The mob may be following her for revenge over what her father has done and the Joker-" Bruce began and cut off when the lunatic's moniker passed his lips inhaling sharply and ending the statement.

"She will have arrived; you had Lucius see her off to the station and call you when she passed the barrier and you made sure to put her on the most secure flight to London, their mail works a lot slower than ours does so her letter will be rather delayed, remember?" Alfred spoke trying his best to quell Bruce's anxiety.

"I won't believe it until I see her letter," Bruce said and Alfred knew there was little he could do to ease his obsession with waiting for the letter.

"Very well then, shall I make you some tea before you catch your cold for while you wait sir?" Alfred asked knowing that at least there was some worth for a little tea to calm the nerves.

"Yes please," Bruce had replied rather half heartedly looking to his wrist watch for the hundredth time that night.

Alfred had turned away to the door which led inside and made his descend into the kitchen area of the mansion to prepare tea. While the tea was drawing in the pot he caught sight of the headlines of the previous day's paper: Batman, still at large and still a danger! The second headline forced the tears over the first to leak over his cheeks: Harvey Dent's daughter, to grieve at school? The media and the police had been the worst aggravator in the entire mess that was the aftermath of something terrible that had come to pass. Where were the parades of joy? Where was everyone being relieved that a darker time had ended? Why wasn't anyone revelling in the new found freedom from crippling fear? Why couldn't anyone let their troubles wash away and be glad that a new era had come to Gotham? And why couldn't they let the poor girl grieve in her own space instead of being surrounded by incessant questions which did not help her?

After some time of pondering all of this Alfred had dried his cheeks up and plastered the smile back on his face to aid the world further and placed the tea on a tray to bring up. His climb was uninterrupted and quiet and when he reached Bruce he placed the tray on the table on the balcony and left him silently knowing there was little he could do to coax him out of his troubled mind. When he returned with breakfast the sun was up and the tea was cold, but what brought him some happiness was that Bruce was reclined in the seat next to the table an owl perched on top waiting patiently and a letter was clutched in Bruce's sleeping hand to his chest. Things could finally become better.