Chapter Text
Bruce hated the way that bringing home a battered, hurt child almost felt familiar.
He picked his way through the forest, careful to try to keep his gait as smooth as possible for the puppy. It was still a forest,though, with rocks and tree roots and logs he had to climb over. Every time Bruce had to heave himself over a rough patch in the terrain, the same puppy in his mouth made a tiny whimper.
And every time he heard it, it sent a small and painful dagger right into his heart.
At this angle, Bruce could only see the puppy fuzz of the kit’s back, and it reminded him of one pup limp with grief and another abused almost to death. Both of his sons had been too exhausted to complain when Bruce had brought them and this kit was the same, not struggling at all as Bruce carried him.
The only movement Tim had ever made was his fragile flinches when Bruce’s gait got a little bumpier.
Both of his sons had been so small, and somehow Tim was even smaller.
They all had been so afraid, so in need of someone to care for them.
Why did the world seem so intent on handing him sons only after they had been broken to pieces and left on their own?
He was more than willing to take the pups. He just wanted to receive them before they were traumatised and left for dead, so they didn’t have to feel the teeth of the world.
It took him about an hour to return to the Manor. He went slower than he could in order not to jostle the kit in his mouth too much. His teeth were close to the open wounds on Tim’s neck and he hadn’t been willing to risk brushing against them just for a quicker time. Tim was hauntingly quiet as they approached the house and Bruce wondered if that was due to training or personality.
He trotted up his front lawn, letting the familiar comfort of the Manor, his ancestral pack home, settle into his bones. His pack was here, all safe inside, and now it was complete with Bruce and the new pup coming back.
He quickened his pace and when he reached the entry, Alfred was already standing there, door open and welcoming them both in. The golden light streamed out behind him, beckoning Bruce and the limp kit inside.
Silently, Bruce yet again thanked the heavens for Alfred.
“Another, Master Bruce?” he said slyly whe he laid eyes on the fuzzy bundle in Bruce’s mouth.
Bruce flicked his ears down and Tim lifted his head curiously. The kit gave a shy yip of greeting and Alfred smiled warmly at the boy.
For as much as the butler teased Bruce about his adoption habits, Alfred never seemed to be able to turn away a pup either.
Bruce sat, waiting as the Wolfhound bent down to take the kit from his mouth.
The Fox was so thin and slight, he could be held easily with one hand. Alfred, though, held the kit by putting a hand under his front legs and supporting his bottom. He raised Tim up, gazing at the puppy just as much as the pup gazed at him.
“A red fox,” he said, turning Tim slightly to review him. His eyes instantly caught on the bare patches of fur and the blood that was slowly congealing along Tim’s collarbones.
“Oh child,” Alfred said as he took in Tim’s condition–his thin, unkempt coat, the raw wounds around his neck, the ribs poking out through his side.
He lowered Tim to curl the kit up to his chest. The puppy leaned into the contact, absolutely melting at the affection.
“Such a sweet boy, how could anyone want to hurt you?”
The kit made another soft yip and tilted his head up so he could lick Alfred’s hand. The butler smiled as he pet over Tim’s large ears.
Just like Bruce, Alfred had experience with helpless and terrified boys. He knew what they needed and the signs that they weren’t getting it from where they came from.
He knew when they needed to claim a pup as pack, just like Bruce did.
Bruce smiled a little to himself as Alfred met his eyes and gave him the barest little nod.
Yes. Theirs.
Bruce shifted, raising up on two legs and shaking out the lingering aches in his muscles. The Manor took a new angle, but it was just as familiar and just as comforting.
The only startling part about it was that the pup seemed even smaller as he straightened up on human legs.
“I take it that you did more than a simple perimeter check, Master Bruce.” Alfred quipped, still gently petting the kit in his arms.
“He’s the Drakes’ boy. His name is Timothy,” Bruce said, answering Alfred’s silent question. “They had left him chained up outside without any food or water. With this heat, he was rapidly on his way to get a heat stroke.”
Alfred frowned, his petting pausing before it resumed.
“Do I even want to know how long he was out there for?”
Bruce shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “At least ten hours and… Tim told me that wasn’t the first time his parents had done that either.”
The butler nodded, cradling the child before offering him back to Bruce. The Wolf silently took the kit, hugging Tim up to his chest like he was a baby. The Fox let himself be coddling, completely pliant and boneless as he received affection. He soaked it up like a sponge, desperately taking in every single kind touch he could manage.
Bruce didn’t want to think about what that meant.
All he knew was that Tim would never be starved for kindness again.
“Very good, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, with something like pride flickering in his eyes. “Master Timothy will do better in our care. I will see to getting him some food and water.”
The butler’s eyes slid into the direction of the living room. When he spoke, Alfred switched to Irish, the language of his grandmother, and the change immediately made Bruce snap to attention. “I assume you are going to be introducing him to the other young masters next?”
Bruce tilted his head and answered back in the same language. “Yes, I am sure they will be excited to meet their new little brother.”
Alfred hesitated and it was enough to give Bruce pause.
“Is that wrong?”
Alfred’s gaze met his again. “Perhaps, it would be better to introduce them slowly. Canine shifters can get rather territorial around their pack and it’s possible that the young masters could take Tim’s introduction badly.”
Bruce looked down at the small kit in his arms. Tim was so tiny, nearly helpless, and the furthest thing he could think of from a threat.
His boys couldn’t possibly reject a kit when he was this innocent and so obviously in need of affection.
“Dick took to Jason fine,” he said and the butler nodded.
“Yes, that is certainly true, but it also means that Master Dick now has a pup to protect.”
Bruce ground his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you think that I shouldn’t introduce them?”
“You can but… go slowly, Master Bruce. Make the introduction as smooth as possible.”
Bruce nodded, switching back to English. “I will. I promise, Alfred.”
The old Wolfhound nodded back, before disappearing into the hallway that led to the kitchen, presumably to get the kit food and medical supplies.
It left Bruce standing in the middle of the darkened hallway, holding Tim delicately to his chest. When he looked down, he found the Fox gazing up at him curiously. Even though Tim was clearly abused, he was still adorable and Bruce couldn’t help gently scratching behind his ears.
“Come on, Tim, let’s take you to meet your new brothers.”
The kit dipped his muzzle, and remained limp as Bruce carried him further into the Manor.
He found his sons sleeping in the living room, both on four paws and curled around each other like a knot. The fireplace was flickering softly and cast peals of golden light over both of their fur coats. A gentle calm had settled into the room and eased some of the last tension in Bruce’s body.
Yes, he reassured himself. This was going to go fine.
Quietly, he approached his sons, his steps soft on the plush carpet.
Dick’s black and silver coat shone in the firelight and steadily raised up and down with his sleeping breath. Jason’s lighter sandy coloured fur was almost completely engulfed by his brother’s coat. The Coyote pup was in an especially deep sleep, one leg kicked restlessly against his brother’s haunch.
Bruce almost felt bad about waking them and considered drawing away right before Dick’ ear flickered and he began to stir.
One blue eye cracked open, blearily taking in Bruce’s form before closing again with a yawn. The Wolf’s pearly white fangs flashed in the dim room and his tongue curled in his mouth. Jason remained asleep, nestling into Dick’s belly with a drowsy sound. The small movement drew the Wolf’s attention and Dick leaned down to affectionately lick between Jason’s ears.
The Coyote leaned into the gentle ministrations, letting the tongue lull him back into a deeper sleep.
Bruce couldn’t help a smile. His boys were so loving, and they were exactly what Tim needed.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Bruce murmured as he slowly approached the Wolf.
Dick gave a low whuff of greeting, but didn’t look up from his mothering over Jason.
“I have something to show you.”
That caught Dick’s attention and both grey ears perked as he swiveled his head to Bruce. It only took him a moment before his attention snapped on the furred bundle in Bruce’s arms.
Dick went still, muscles tensing but not doing anything more. He nose twitched as he rapidly took in the new scent of pup.
Tim whined at suddenly getting caught in the Wolf’s gaze, leaning into Bruce’s chest for protection. The little kit began trembling, anxiously twitching against his palm, and Bruce gave him a couple more calming pets.
Dick didn’t make any aggressive movements, but he didn’t make any friendly movements either.
He just stayed still, curled protectively around Jason, but not outright rejecting the newest pup.
Carefully, Bruce tested his luck by edging closer and offering Tim out.
The kit instantly whimpered as he was pulled away from Bruce’s body, desperately keening to be held close again. The sounds tugged on Bruce’s heartstrings, but he kept Tim held out to Dick, hoping that the calls would make Dick see what Bruce saw.
A new member to the pack that needed acceptance. A small pup in need of care. A child who needed a big brother.
Dick leaned forward to delicately sniff the kit, taking a long time to smell the raw wounds around the Fox’s neck.
Yes, Bruce silently prayed. He’s hurt. He needs some love.
Bruce could see Dick starting to put the pieces together, to slowly soften and begin to come around. Dick always had a soft spot for puppies and Bruce just needed it to trigger. He just needed the Wolf’s instincts to see a child instead of a stranger.
His eldest was right on the edge about to accept the pup as his own like he had done with Jason, but then the Coyote began to wake up.
Jason murmured, twisting against Dick’s fur and coming to slowly. His nose twitched and he sneezed before taking a deep breath in and…
Freezing.
Things happened in a second.
Jason took in Tim’s scent—the scent of a stranger. The scent of an outsider. The scent of not pack– and he reacted.
Jason jerked to the side as he snapped awake, his nose twitching furiously with the foreign smell. His head swiveled and he caught a flash of Tim’s fur, too vibrantly red to be taken as Dick’s or Bruce’s, and he yelped.
Fright wracked through Jason’s body, making the pup bark in terror and whine for Dick.
The whine said intruder. The whine said danger. The whine said protect me.
Jason had been stolen from his mother by strangers, nearly beaten to death by strangers, taunted and put into a cage to await his slaughter by strangers.
He didn’t take to waking up to a stranger well.
And Dick’s behaviour turned on a dime, as quick as a lightning crack.
He snarled, the sound low and deadly in his throat and bared his fangs. It was the only warning Bruce got before the Wolf lunged towards the Fox kit, jaws snapped and ready to fling the pup away.
Bruce jerked Tim back, both of them rolling on the ground and away from the growling Wolf. Dick sprang up to his legs and hunched protectively over his Coyote pup.
Dick’s eyes were cold fire when they met Bruce’s gaze. He looked almost feral as he shielded Jason from Tim.
His snarl was a clear and damning rejection.
Tim was crying in Bruce’s arms, terrified whimpers lashing into Bruce’s heart with every broken sound.
Jason was crying also, pressing as close as he could into his older brother and letting the Wolf hide him from the intruder.
Dick was just snarling. Snarling, snarling, snarling.
“No,” Bruce whispered, holding Tim up again. Dick’s ears flattened aggressively and he displayed his shining, sharp teeth. The silver fur of his back bristled with his fury. “No, he’s just a pup. He’s harmless and—“
Tim gave a sharp bark of terror as he was offered up again and squirmed in Bruce’s hand. He slipped out landing on the carpet and whipped around to see a nearly adult Wolf bearing down on him.
Dick lunged again, heavy paws landing on both of Tim’s sides and caging the kit between front legs. The Fox tried to get to his feet, but his movements were jerky and uncoordinated and he couldn’t run away as Dick’s jaws flashed over him. Razor sharp fangs menaced over the thin scrap of a puppy. Furious eyes bored into him. The Wolf was a monster compared to the smaller shifter below him.
The Fox gave a wild scream of terror and sank into the carpet. He rolled on to his back and showed his belly in a desperate puppy plea of mercy.
And Dick didn’t stop snarling, close enough so that each growl ruffled the kit’s fur.
“Master Dick!” Alfred’s voice shouted over and the butler moved faster than Bruce had ever seen him move before.
Alfred dashed across the room, grabbed Dick by the scruff his neck and physically pulled the Wolf off of the small kit.
Dick yelped as he was jerked in a different direction, his legs twisting under him and making him collapse onto his side. He instantly bounced back, nearly snapping his jaws at Alfred before the butler fixed him with a heavy glare.
Instantly, Dick’s snarls died in his chest and his aggressive position began melting away. His growling quickly turned into plaintive whines as he gazed up at the furious butler standing over him. The fury of the older man made Dick’s pale in comparison and the Wolf was thoroughly cowed with just a look.
“Master Dick! What in God’s name are you thinking!”
Dick whimpered, bowing down so his stomach brushed against the floor and tucking his tail between his legs.
“That is a child!” Alfred growled, just as fierce as the sounds Dick had made moments before. “You can’t possibly think that a small kit poses any threat to you or Jason.”
The Wolf’s eyes flickered behind Alfred to the Fox kit and Tim curled tighter into himself. Dick whined again, edging forward to lick at Alfred’s shoes.
The butler didn’t soften at all.
“He is scared already. Hurt and abused and you decided to terrorise him more? I am greatly disappointed and expected better of you than mindlessly following your instincts.”
Dick’s whimpering increased and he pressed his ears flat against his skull.
Behind Dick, Jason also whimpered and crawled under the Wolf’s chest so he could shove himself behind one of Dick’s front legs. Dick kept his head low, still submitting to Alfred, but also gave Jason a couple comforting licks.
The small motion seemed to ease a little tension from the room and Alfred relaxed slightly.
“I understand that you feel the need to protect Master Jason after all he’s been through, but you must consider what you are protecting him from. Sheltering one pup is not worth completely terrifying another.”
Dick’s position didn’t waver. He still stayed firmly in front of Jason and his body language was clear. He wasn’t outright attacking Tim, but the threat of it was silent and ominously present. Jason didn’t help by staying securely behind his older brother and voicing little puppy growls every time Tim glanced his way.
In the back of his head, Bruce felt partially responsible for Dick’s behaviour. The Wolf had shown protective behaviour around Jason from almost the instant he had received the Coyote pup, both as a human and as a wolf. Bruce had presented the puppy to Dick and Dick had declared Jason his.
He had spent hours grooming the fear away from the much smaller puppy and keeping at Bruce’s side as they nursed Jason to health.
He had held the small boy in his arms and whispered tearful pleas to ‘please get better, Little Paw’ into his skin.
He had promised Jason he would never let anyone hurt him again.
In those early days, when Jason had seemed to have a health scare almost every week, Bruce saw no reason to dissuade his eldest’s overprotectiveness.
It was only now, when Dick had brutally rejected another puppy just for giving Jason a fright, that Bruce realised how Dick’s protectiveness could be a double-edged sword.
He didn’t speak as he finally found the ability to move his legs and get up. He went and picked the kit off of the floor, cradling Tim into him.
The Fox instantly pressed himself against Bruce, whining into his clothes and trying to use dull claws to latch himself onto the older man. Bruce gently hushed him, scratching between Tim’s shoulder blades until the boy gave a stuttery little rumble.
“I think it's time for all of us to go to bed,” Alfred said, ever the diplomat.
He gave Dick another hard look though. “And tomorrow morning, I expect some fresh new perspectives on what happened tonight.”
Despite Alfred’s clear warning, Dick stubbornly kept his expression stony.
He didn’t look at Bruce or the Fox kit as he dipped to pick up Jason. The Coyote was getting almost too big to be carried, but that didn’t stop Dick from putting his jaws around Jason’s shoulders and lifting him.
The pup went instinctively limp though he mumbled with petulance as Dick carried him.
The Wolf padded out of the room carrying his pup and Bruce didn’t make a move to stop them. As they left, Jason blinked curiously up at the new kit but didn’t completely lose his wariness.
Dick took him away and eventually stillness descended back into the living room as the Wolf took his little brother up the stairs into the Manor.
Bruce highly doubted he would be seeing Dick or Jason in the family den tonight and was sure Dick would be holing Jason up in a much more hidden spot, maybe even in a den that Bruce himself didn’t know about.
“Well that could have gone better,” Alfred remarked with a heavy sigh and Bruce couldn’t agree more. “I meant my comment for you too, Master Bruce, take your new pup and go to bed.”
Bed. Sleep. It seemed impossible to relax when his muscles were buzzing with the anxiety of his stressed-out pack.
He hugged the fox pup but he wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort Tim or comfort himself.
He needed Dick and Jason to accept this puppy. His heart had already claimed Tim as his own and if his oldest two sons didn’t…
He didn’t know what he would do.
He couldn’t send Tim back to the Drakes, that was completely out of the question.
He also wasn’t going to give up his two older sons.
Tim anxiously nuzzled at his fingers, licking them with a parched little tongue and reminding Bruce he still had a kit that was relying on him, a kit that desperately needed food and water.
“Alfred, could you please take Tim’s meal up to my den? I will be settling him down in there.”
“Of course, Master Bruce,” said the butler, walking out to get Tim what he needed.
It left Bruce alone with Tim again, still helpless and still packless.
The Wolf inside him rumbled unhappily.
“It will be okay, Tim,” he promised the Fox, though he didn’t know whether he was saying it for the boy or for himself. “I know it’s going to be okay.”
From somewhere else in the Manor, a fiercely protective howl rose over the halls.
Bruce wasn’t being invited to join it.