Who: Luke and Alfie What: Moving into Aubade 506 Where: The hospital to Aubade When: Sometime this week Warnings: None.
Currently all Luke really knew (and cared about, for that matter) was that he was finally being discharged from the hospital. The doctors probably would have kept him in the hospital longer if they could, but Luke was adamant that he was feeling well enough to leave and having Thomas Brandon on his side certainly helped matters. Luckily he’d been healing well, followed all given instructions and hadn’t overexerted himself; although during the last few days he had tested the range of movement his wound allowed without causing too much pain. He’d probably need some extra protection even with the kevlar because of it, and he’d have to be fully aware of his limitations before heading out, but overall he was satisfied that the injury wouldn’t end up holding him back. Now he also had Toby’s offer of help and Abel Cassiel should he ever find himself with another injury that hopefully wasn’t this serious, but still required medical attention. He had no intention of ever returning to a hospital after this.
His conversation with Wren had sealed the deal - he was going to stay with Thomas for the time being, and hopefully it would be enough time to convince him that he needed to stop spending so much energy on worrying and trying to talk the younger vigilantes out of what they were doing. He also wanted his staff and grappling belt back, and hoped that Thomas wasn’t planning on withholding them in some stupid attempt to keep him off the streets. Somehow he’d have to show him that he was capable of handling the lifestyle - or at least that he was serious about it.
Although Thomas had mentioned someone else at one point or another - a woman whose name he couldn’t quite remember - Luke assumed that he was going to be picking him up and taking him to his Aubade apartment; which, admittedly, he was looking forward to seeing despite the circumstances.
Alfie was definitely not Thomas Brandon.
She’d spoken to Thomas on repeated occasion after the incident which landed Luke in the hospital, and she kept her counsel about her opinions of young men putting themselves in unwise situations. She managed, only just, not to mention to Thomas that he’d been little better when she’d met him. And all of this was before even seeing the boy that had made such an impact when so few managed it.
She’d been with Thomas (and Thomas, Inc.) for over a decade, and during that decade she’d seen no shortage of women, men, boys and girls try to make the handsome billionaire care whether they lived or died. It did nothing to allay Alfie’s concerns that Thomas was more likely to notice an attacker than a victim (that had always been the case with him). But it seemed things had changed in this new world, and she was interested in meeting the young man who mattered more than the rest.
She arrived at the hospital that morning in a skirt suit that didn’t try too hard, sharp pumps and bearing the brooked no arguments. Handling Luke’s release papers took only a moment, and by the time the orderly was wheeling the release wheelchair into the young man’s private room, Alfie was smartly in step beside him.
The young man in the bed looked younger than she had expected, was her initial thought. “Luke, I believe?” she asked, and despite her age, her tone was not maternal, not grandmotherly. This was not a woman who would hug you and bandage your scrape; this was a woman who would bring the hospital to you, and then ask you what you’d learned from the situation.
He’d moved to the edge of the bed and glanced up when the door opened, the expectation of a familiar face dwindling and becoming replaced by puzzlement when a woman entered instead. Despite being older, there was nothing about her that suggested she was the grandmotherly or even motherly sort; she certainly didn’t look at him with the same warm concern that Toby had, although that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Luke appreciated such worry but didn’t need it, and he had a feeling this particular woman wasn’t going to give it to him anyway.
The presence of someone who wasn’t Thomas was enough to distract him from the wheelchair, even though he didn’t want one and would have protested stubbornly if it hadn’t been a stranger he had to argue with. “Yes, that’s me.” He stood because he felt like it was the proper thing to do (and he was sick of lying in bed all the time), and it did occur to him that she never would have gotten past the front desk if she hadn’t been here because Thomas wanted her to be. Maybe this was who he’d talked about - which meant that paying closer attention might have been a good idea. Luke hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next before settling on a neutral half-smile. “You must know Thomas,” he ventured, a cross between a question and a statement.
Alfie held her hand out, because a handshake was an important beginning to a working relationship, and she shook the young man’s hand. Then, almost immediately, she motioned to the wheelchair, as if she had no doubt whatsoever she would be obeyed in this (and all things). “My name is Penelope Worth,” she told him. “But my friends call me Alfie - Thomas Brandon included, though he it took him awhile to get used to the name.” She smiled then, and it softened her features. “He seems to think very highly of you, young man, and so I’m honored he trusted me to see you home.” Home, of course, was Aubade. She didn’t mention that she’d suggested the boy go there, because that was unimportant. What was important was getting the boy somewhere safe, and Thomas’ apartment was safe (that incident with the burglar not withstanding).
“I’ve known Thomas since he wasn’t very much older than you are now,” she told him as she walked beside the wheelchair. “I do hope you’ll be a more pleasant conversationalist than he was at the time.” This was said with a fond smile, both for Thomas and for Luke. “You were surprised to see me?” she asked, though it was obvious he had been. “I convinced Thomas it was best, to avoid publicity. I’m his financial manager and, I hope, a good friend.”
Her outstretched was shaken instinctively, but he did hesitate when she gestured towards the wheelchair. What he really wanted to do was insist that he could walk out on his own, but doing so probably wouldn’t make the best impression; so he conceded for now and sat, telling himself that a few more minutes in a wheelchair couldn’t hurt. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said honestly, not having met anyone Thomas even faintly considered a friend save for Max, and even then he wasn’t quite sure what their relationship was when he wasn’t Batman. He liked Alfie better than Penelope, but it was amusing to try to imagine Thomas not wanting to use the former at first. There was no inquiry as to where ‘home’ was, because they both knew what it meant and he had no reason to argue against going there. He wasn’t sure what to say about being thought highly of so he didn’t comment on it, but was pleased to have made an impression nonetheless.
“You have?” Luke glanced up at her curiously, wondering what he’d been like and whether he had worn a mask at that age too. He assumed she knew about Batman, although he certainly didn’t intend on bringing it up (just in case). “I like to think I’m at least a decent conversationalist,” he said with a laugh, finding it almost funny that Thomas had apparently never been someone of many words. “Yeah. Thomas didn’t mention you were coming... well, I don’t think he did. But then again he never explicitly said he would be taking me to Aubade either.” He could understand, though, why it was something to be avoided. The fact that he’d brought him in and visited was enough to start some rumors on their own. “Not that I mind,” he added. “It does make sense for you to be here rather than him.” He highly doubted that he was going to be left to his own devices in the apartment and accepted that, but it didn’t mean he was prepared to be babysat.
Alfie was no babysitter, and she didn’t precisely share Thomas’ views about the boy in the chair beside her; she liked to make her own decisions about people, even if Thomas’ opinions did carry significant weight. First impressions, Alfie knew, were currency, and she counted that currency as the driver opened the backseat of her luxury sedan for Luke. Articulate, with enough defiance behind his kind eyes to make her understand why the boy stood out. He seemed well adjusted, though, on first meeting - and that surprised her.
She’d read everything about the vigilantes, both old and young, but on the forums and in reports they all seemed reckless, even Thomas. On paper, they all seemed insane, crazed, careless and too single-minded for anyone’s good. It was, she knew, why the police feared them, why society worshipped them (but never attempted to get too close). All of that was true, but one didn’t really know these men and women until you talked to them, Alfie knew. Beneath every mask was a person, and that person made the mask. The mask was, therefore, nothing more than a symbol, sometimes carefully chosen, sometimes not.
She smiled at his curiosity about Thomas’ past, and she waited for the doors of the sedan to close, for the soundproof divider between her trusted driver and the backseat to slide into place. “I have known Thomas since he decided to change the world,” she said, the vagueness intentional. “Which, I suspect, you think is a laudable decision. What do you think of his life?” she asked, intentionally leaving the question wide open, waiting to see where Luke took it.
He was glad to be out of the wheelchair and wasted no time in getting into the car, leaning back against the seat with a quiet sigh. Alfie didn’t strike him as someone who would confine him to a bed for the next week or so, although he was sure Thomas would have his own opinions and probably wouldn’t be easily swayed from them. Then again, he surely had a say in matters that pertained to him, and a large chunk of his motivation for staying with him came from his very desire to sway him from certain convictions. It wouldn’t be easy, and he couldn’t yet tell whether Alfie would share his belief that young vigilantes should be off the street or if she believed that it was an individual choice and attempting to convince them otherwise was a fruitless task.
She was certainly vague enough to make him wonder whether she was referring to something normal or a little more along the lines of a cape and cowl in terms of changing the world. If she was hinting towards the latter, and she’d known him since he was nearly as young as Luke himself - well, it gave an interesting perspective on things. “I do,” he agreed without hesitation, although his answer was based more on his endeavors as Batman than it was anything else he might do. Most people who had that kind of wealth would use it for themselves, for selfish reasons; but Thomas did the opposite. Even though he appeared to not care, Luke knew that wasn’t true either. “I think...” He paused, wanting to choose his answer carefully. “I think he took his life in a different direction than most people in his position have, and would. It’s not easy, and it’s... occasionally risky, I suppose.” Luke glanced idly out the window before returning his gaze to Alfie. “But despite all that it means something, you know? Thomas makes a real difference, and he puts their own needs aside for the sake of something bigger. His life isn’t the perfect ideal, maybe, but it’s admirable.”
There was another pause. “I also think he has trouble coming to terms with the fact that other people are willing to make the same kind of sacrifice, and of their own accord,” he added, keeping his tone nonchalant.
She watched the intelligent play of thoughts on that young face, and though she did not smile at the obvious effort at saying the right thing, her shoulders went less stiff and her body language became more open. She crossed her ankles, the rings glittering on her aged fingers showing her station and wealth (intentionally), but not garish or tasteless in the display. She worked with Thomas, yes, but her opinions were her own - a fact Luke would learn with time.
The hero worship in his words was expected, but the idealism was surprising. She didn’t think Thomas possessed any idealism when she met him, even then, and it was somehow unexpected in this young man. She listened, and she didn’t interrupt, not wanting to sway or color his words by her reaction to them. She watched the earnestness in his features, the lack of anger in his face, and she decided to throw her preconceptions out the window. Whatever this young man was, he was not Thomas.
“Shall I give you my opinion on the matter?” she asked, and she continued on, as if the permission had been granted. “Thomas is an amazing man. He’s brilliant, selfless, arrogant in a way that suits him.” She chuckled. “He’s imperious, and I recommend you not let him get the upper hand in an argument, or you shall never win it.” She ran her fingers idly over the long, decorative chain she wore around her neck. “He’s also given up his entire life in his pursuit, and as a friend, I have always wished he would find something to care about that was not his dark obsession; something to ground him, to keep him from going too far. A man with no ties, he has nothing to lose, young Luke.” She let the necklace fall, and she didn’t add anything else. He could interpret as he would, and she suspected he would do just that.
Luke knew his opinion of Thomas was slightly biased, even though he knew the man was far from perfect - not that perfection existed in the first place, but that wasn’t the point. He was pleasantly surprised when she listened without interjecting, and nodded when she asked to offer her opinion even though his permission wasn’t required. Alfie had known Thomas far longer than he had, which meant she knew much more about him than he ever could; thus he really did want to know what she thought.
A flicker of a smile passed across his features when she advised against letting him get the upper hand, because he fully intended on doing the opposite and challenging Thomas instead. It was the only way he was ever going to demonstrate that he wasn’t a mindless child and didn’t need to be constantly fretted over, but he remained silent and continued to listen. On the one hand he could understand the appeal of having no ties and thus nothing to interfere with the task at hand, but understanding a particular point of view didn’t necessarily mean he agreed with it. Luke left his parents behind, yes, but he still had ties that extended beyond what he did under the mantle of Robin. He had friends, a job, and classes; it wasn’t easy by any means, but he wasn’t going to let himself lose sight of who he’d been before the mask and become completely absorbed by it. “Having nothing to lose can be dangerous,” he said slowly, turning over what she’d said in his mind. It wasn’t clear what exactly she was referring to, and there was a wide range of possibilities that could fall under the category of ‘something to care about.’
Despite what she may or may not have meant he kept going back to that long-ago idea that someday he could work in tandem with Batman, acting as a partner - a sidekick, even, although he preferred the former. It would require earning his acceptance and proving that he was capable, yet wasn’t that what he was aiming for in the first place? He was only a decent fighter but he could improve, he knew he could; even though it wouldn’t solve everything, it was a start. “Maybe he’ll end up finding something that can do that,” he said after his thoughtful silence, giving a slight shrug. “Or it might end up finding him instead.” In the back of his mind he wondered if she was referring to something more along the lines of a woman, but he decided to keep it vague and not voice his thoughts just yet.
Again, she was quiet, watching him as he worked out his thoughts. He was thoughtful, this unexpected young man, and that was a good thing. He didn’t remind her of herself, of the woman she’d been almost a hundred years before, and he certainty didn’t remind her of her daughter, a flighty child, and he didn’t remind her of the young man Thomas had been. Her opinion was unclouded by emotion, even if age was starting to make her more forgiving than she’d been once upon a time, and her opinion was leaning toward being favorable.
“Having nothing to lose can be dangerous,” she agreed. She paused a moment, letting an unhurried silence fill the car. “Being too worried about another person, it can be equally dangerous. It’s a fine line; a balance. Not everyone is good at balance, Luke.” She looked down at the location of his bullet injury, and she looked back up at his face. She trusted him to read into her words, to understand what she was saying. It wasn’t a test precisely, but being able to read signals was important if this young man was going to set out do what she suspected he intended.
She smiled then, an old smile, comfortable and well-worn. “I think it’s already found him. Don’t you?”
Her gaze was met steadily, and he followed her line of vision down to his wound and back again with clear understanding. Luke knew very well that Thomas worried about him, and being shot certainly hadn’t done anything to help that. While concern was natural, there was a line between what was normal and what was excessive; unfortunately it wasn’t a line that Thomas seemed to be very good at walking. Seattle needed Batman, and he couldn’t spend his time worrying about someone else - he needed to find that balance, instead of seeing vigilantes like himself as ‘his’ responsibility. “I know.” He frowned for a moment. “Balance isn’t easy, but it’s possible.” Trying, at least, counted for a lot.
There was a brief pause before he grinned, far more sure of himself now that he knew where she stood. “Yeah, I do.”
The grin made her laugh. He would be a good thing; she felt it in her bones. Even if it did make things more complicated in the short term. “I moved over from Musings three years ago,” she told him. “I came over to establish Thomas, Inc., and my network came over month-by-month for those three years, bringing over Thomas’ wealth and the things he would need to do what he did.” She steepled her hands at her lips. “Six months ago, Thomas arrived, and I took a long overdue vacation. I’m not as young as I was, you see. I’ve returned to a very different Seattle than the one I left behind, which doesn’t concern me,” she said bluntly. “But Thomas is different as well. He has connections, including you, who I am still learning about. Oracle, I know of from Musings. Tell me about these others.”
She was asking him for a reason, because Alfie did everything for a reason. She didn’t worry that he wouldn’t find her trustworthy, not when Thomas had entrusted her with his care. She wanted to see if Luke’s interpretation of the other vigilantes was the same as Thomas,’ because these people were the closest to the man, and she was working on creating a secure perimeter, something Thomas hadn’t bothered with in his passion for justice (it would have surprised her if he had). It was like the offshoot, business fronts he’d created. Barely defensible, and entirely open to detection for anyone with any level of skills.
The laugh went a long way to alleviating any lingering uncertainty he might have felt, and he decided that so far he liked Alfie. Thomas clearly had good taste when it came to the people he trusted, even if the number of said individuals were few. It made sense, really, since very few were as prepared as Thomas Brandon had been when he came over from Musings. At that time all Luke knew was that Batman had disappeared off the radar in Musings and rumors said he must have gone through a portal, but the two were nowhere near being connected. (Mainly because Thomas Brandon hadn’t really been in the public eye, not that he would have paid too much attention even if he was). “Things have definitely changed, and they still are,” he agreed, although he knew this more from word of mouth than he did from his own experience. No one could deny the recent surge of criminal activity, from the Alphabet murders to The Joker and his bank robbery.
His hesitation was brief at best. Thomas trusted Alfie, and she had a right to know about the other vigilantes that he had and would continue to encounter on a fairly regular basis. “Corbinian and Rorschach seem to be the... uh, more experienced vigilantes aside from Thomas. Corbinian wears face paint to mask his identity, and Rorschach wears this mask... like an ink blot, I guess. I don’t think Thomas gets along with them, though - they operate differently than he does. Corbinian kills, and Rorschach occasionally does too. He doesn’t like that.” Understandable, in his opinion. He tried to think of the others, the ones who’d been there in the bar and at the vigilante meeting. “There’s another one, a man, but I don’t know what he goes by or even who he is. When I was shot he was there, which means he had a communicator; but that’s all I know.”
Max didn’t count as a vigilante, did she? And Eve - well, Eve was complicated, but he highly doubted Thomas viewed her as anything akin to a vigilante. Besides, he’d handle her. “There are some younger ones, like me. Well, one doesn’t really do the same thing we do, but the other does. Obviously Thomas doesn’t think they should be out on the streets any more than he thinks I should.” Although Luke did worry about them too, he knew it would be hypocritical of him to say anything against what they did.
The fact that everything he said was slightly optimistic, that it managed to find the good in the situation, didn’t surprise her as it would have earlier in the conversation. She was starting to suspect this young man wasn’t exorcising any demons with his behavior, which made him very different from Thomas indeed. Personally, she hadn’t yet decided how she felt about this league of superheroes that was forming. Working alone, that was one thing, and she’d seen Thomas do it long enough that she knew he could. But a cabal of socially inept men? That hardly seemed wise. They needed a calm, rational leader, and she wasn’t sure there was one in this group - and Luke, while capable of it, was too young yet to have the respect of the others in the way he’d need for such a position. Additionally, there was certainly a lack of judgement, as indicated by the video clips still being spread across the internet.
“Do you feel they should be on these streets, the younger ones like yourself?” she asked.
The car stopped in front of Aubade, and the driver came around to Luke’s door and opened it for him. Alfie didn’t wait for her own door to be opened. Instead, she walked around the trunk and met Luke outside the impressive, gated building. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at the building as she spoke. “The outside of something can seem so strong, so impenetrable, when it’s really held together by thin wires and vulnerable drywall.”
Luke didn’t think that the growing number of vigilantes was necessarily a bad thing, although it did pose some problems when the time came to actually start working with each other rather than alone. He’d listened in on enough during the vigilante meeting to realize that there was a variety of different viewpoints and opinions, some of which tended to clash. The last thing they needed was to start fighting each other, but when some vigilantes were adamantly opposed to killing and others weren’t, it got a little complicated - even more so when possible ulterior motives and reasons got thrown into the mix. He knew he was different in the sense that there was nothing in his past that drove him to this point, and certainly nothing traumatic. It did make him wonder what Thomas’ reasons were, but that was something he knew better than to ask about.
For a moment he was silent, thinking of Quinn and Wren and how different they were than him. Both had been doing it longer than he had, but in comparison to the others they were really all novices. That didn’t mean he felt like he had more of a right to be out there than they did, or vice versa. “I think they should be able to make that choice, whether they want to be out on the streets or not, for themselves. The ones I know are aware of the risks, and they know what they’re doing. We’re not as experienced as the older vigilantes, but we’re not clueless either.” It wasn’t an easy question, and even he had to admit there were some teenagers who had zero training whatsoever and would likely end up dead if they put on a mask. Still, that was different - there were inexperienced adults too, after all.
He kept his eyes on the building as he got out of the car, enjoying the feeling of being able to stretch his legs again. “It looks pretty impressive,” he said, clearly awed by it - in comparison to Hamartia, it was like a palace. “But I guess it really is just a building, in simple terms.” Luke looked upwards for a few more seconds before forcing his gaze away. “Which floor does Thomas live on?”
“The top floor,” she said, waiting for him to seem ready to walk, steady on his feet, before moving toward the front door of the building. “People are much like buildings, I find,” she said, continuing on her topic from before, quite intentionally. “Just because they seem strong on the outside, it doesn’t mean the inside is equally invulnerable.” She smiled over at him, as she waited for the Aubade doorman to open the double glass doors for them. She nodded at the man, an older gentleman in livery, and she informed him that Luke would be staying with Mister Brandon in 506 for the time being.
She led the way through the long, marble alabaster lobby, and she pushed the elevator button before the doorman could make his notations about Luke’s residence in the building. “When I was your age, I was making a very large number of mistakes. Without them, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.” It wasn’t an opinion on the actions of the younger vigilantes, not implicitly, but her feelings were there nonetheless. “Granted, if I had died I would hardly be here at all, would I?” She looked over at this young man, and she didn’t ask him the question she was certain he’d been asked a hundred times before - why. “Age does not bring knowledge, Luke,” she said simply. “Experience does.”
She pushed the elevator button. “I expect you’ll be forcing Thomas to socialize?” He had friends, she suspected, this young man. It would be good for Thomas, she decided. Good for the differentiation between the man and the Bat, both publicly and in Thomas’ own mind.
Luke briefly steadied himself against the car before following her towards the front door, realizing with a rush of satisfaction that the pain in his abdomen really wasn’t that bad at all. He wasn’t going to push himself, but he was sure he could find a sort of balance in order to fully recuperate without causing any unnecessary harm. “True,” he agreed, smiling briefly at the doorman and hoping he didn’t look completely out of place. “And only certain people manage to get far enough past the front doors to see what the inside is like.” His lips twitched at the effort of holding back a chuckle at the thought of Thomas being compared to a building.
The lobby was given an impressed once-over and actually having a working elevator was new, considering only those who were particularly brave or stupid dared use the one in Hamartia. He knew all about mistakes and how the only thing you could do was learn from them, but that night in the alley had come close to crossing a line he’d tried to avoid. “I guess you have to be careful about the kinds of mistakes you make,” he said as they waited for the elevator. “I know I’ve made them, but I learn from them. I have to.” So far he’d received the impression that age and experience were tightly wound together, and it was hard to get the latter without the former, even though it didn’t always work that way. She was, he was beginning to realise, wise in a way that a lot of the vigilantes didn’t seem to be.
The prospect of forcing Thomas to socialize made him raise his eyebrows, as he hadn’t really considered how that aspect of his life was going to work. Wren was the only one who knew he’d planned on staying with Thomas for a while, but realistically at some point someone was going to ask or stop by his actual apartment - especially coworkers or classmates - and he’d have to come up with something. “He may find himself in a situation that requires socializing with people he doesn’t know.” Luke didn’t want to live as a hermit, after all. “Someone’s going to wonder where I am at some point or another, I hope,” he added with a small laugh.
She looked over at him as the elevator climbed the nine story to the topmost level of Aubade’s dual-floor apartments. “I’m in 402,” she told him, “should you need anything while you’re here.” The doors opened, and she waited for him, though she didn’t give any true indication that she was deferring to his injury and possible need for rest.
“You have to be wise in the risks you take, Luke,” she told him, “and you need to realize the cost associated with those risks.” She didn’t tell him not to take them, the risks, because she knew that would be a pointless suggestion, but she did want him to understand that his risks effected others. “If a situation will result in your death, then you won’t live to help anyone else in the future,and your loss might break someone else who also serves the community in an altruistic manner. Take your risks, Luke, and make your mistakes, but do not stay when you should run, and do not fight when you should call for reinforcements.” She lowered her voice, as if it was a great secret she was imparting. “Choose your battles; don’t let them choose you.”
She led him down the hall to 506, and she opened the door with her own key, and then she held it open for him. “You’re set up in one of the lower rooms, where I hope you will bring your friends. It would be nice to see Thomas bringing friends home as well,” she said (the concept of Thomas and friends sounding like a longed for, foreign thing), indicating the six room apartment, and she nodded toward the hallway leading to the rooms. The room that was set up for him was larger than most apartments in Hamartia, decorated in neutrals and with its own balcony and bathroom. “Does it suit, Master Luke?” she asked, the question (and title) voiced in a tone of entertained fondness; this reminded her of her parents, of their long years of service, and the memory was a happy one.
He nodded and tucked that piece of information away for later, stepping onto the elevator and watching as the doors slid shut. Surprisingly enough he’d avoided a lecture after the shooting, aside from Bunny’s little tirade in the hospital, but he realized there was a difference between that and advice - and what Alfie was giving was the latter, which he didn’t mind and even welcomed. Luke didn’t bother to pretend as though she was speaking generally, and he realized that the smart thing to have done in the alley was to run as soon as he had the chance. It was one of the things he had to work on and wouldn’t be quite as easy to reconcile, that desire to stay and fight despite the circumstances. He couldn’t, however, let something like this happen again - not if he had a chance to avoid it. “I need to remember that,” he admitted. “I’ll work on it.”
The apartment was even bigger than he’d been expecting, and not even the hotel rooms he’d stayed in on family vacations had been this nice. “They’d love this,” he said absently, thinking of how utterly thrilled Bunny would be to step foot in Thomas Brandon’s apartment. Maybe he’d have to ease her into the idea. He might even have Blytech over, as a sort of thanks for all the weapons (which he hoped he still had, and didn’t need to replace). Luke hesitated a moment before heading down the hall, poking his head into what was apparently meant to be his room - it even had a balcony. He had his own balcony.
“Yeah, it’s great.” He looked slightly quizzical at being called ‘Master’ Luke, but didn’t take it too seriously.
She watched him, remembering what it was like to be that young, to experience things for the first time, even great wealth like this. He was still young enough for things to make an impact, this young man Thomas had taken under his wing. She wondered if Thomas knew precisely what he’d opened himself up to, and she very much doubted it. If he’d known, he would have fought it every step of the way; she had no doubt whatsoever about that. Opening your heart to someone was a risk, one Alfie considered very worth taking.
She lingered in the door a moment longer, and then she smiled. “I’ll leave you to your accommodations, Luke. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, or if there’s anything I should know.” The latter part of that sentence was as important as the lead-in, and she trusted him to understand as much.
With a nod of her head, she left the key on the table beside the bedroom door, and she left him to his privacy. There was a smile on her face as she left 506. This, she thought, should be quite interesting.
“Okay.” He tore his eyes from the room and glanced back with a grin. “Thanks again.” Once Alfie had left, Luke gave himself a quick tour of the room (including the bathroom, which was ten times bigger than the one in his Hamartia apartment) before going out onto the balcony and taking in the view. It would look nice at night, he thought, and he glanced down instinctively while trying to determine whether he could grapple down from this height or not. Of course he wasn’t going to, not yet, but still - there was nothing wrong with wondering about those kinds of things.
He poked his head back out of the bedroom door, hesitating before deciding to do a bit of exploring - just a bit. No opening closed doors or going where he obviously shouldn’t, because this was still Thomas’ apartment, but it couldn’t hurt to take a quick look around.