Work Text:
Tim blinked. Something had happened on one of his monitors; he couldn't see the window he'd been working in. Strangely, he couldn't seem to get his cursor to interact with the pop-up at all--it simply wouldn't show up over the new window. Tim quickly pulled up the process manager but didn't find anything new in the list.
Cass tugged on their pack bond in annoyance, and it took Tim a few seconds to come out of hyperfocus and realize that the pop-up window was in fact his sister's head. He forced his eyes to focus on her irritated but amused pout, theatrically exaggerated in the way Cass used when people weren't paying her enough attention. She was sitting on the desk, wedged between him and the computer.
"Uh, hi. What's up, Cass?" Tim's eyes flicked over her face before squinting back up at the monitors, peering around at the program he was using.
Cass huffed and intercepted Tim's hand as he reached for the mouse. She pulled it closer to her instead.
"What do you need? I'm working the arms smuggling case, it's kind of time sensitive."
Cass scowled at him. Still holding his hand, she hopped off the desk and tried to drag him up the stairs.
Tim let himself be pulled from the chair, but wouldn't step away. "Cass, I'm following up on the lead you got us last night, I can't play Animal Crossing with you right now."
"Mine," she said, tugging at his hand. "My nest. Brother time."
"Isn't Dick home?"
"No," she said, and didn't bother to elaborate whether she meant that Dick wasn't home or that she wouldn't accept Tim's suggestion. Instead, she brushed his pack bond again, poking him with impatience-affection-want.
"Jason! I'm being kidnapped!" Tim called in the direction of the training mats.
Jason paused halfway through a kata. "I'm not paying the ransom, kiddo," he shouted back.
"What? What does she want?"
"Nest," Cass repeated firmly. "Nap time."
"What she said. Don't worry, we'll honor your sacrifice and put up a stupid little plaque. A Good Snuggler."
"I don't--what?!"
"Just follow her upstairs. It's for your own good, Timbo. I'll pick up your case if you want." He grinned, as much a threat as a promise.
Cass, her pack bond flaring again with impatience, started keening. Tim flailed at his end of the bond with uncertainty-confusion-panic. He glanced back and forth between her and Jason, frozen to the spot.
Jason sighed and moved out of his stance. "She wants you to scruff her and stay with her," he explained. "It's your turn, apparently. Listen, you do not want to turn her down. You're in for the best night's sleep you've ever had."
Cass made a face and poked Tim in the chest. "Need." Once again, she didn't clarify whether she meant she needed Tim or Tim needed her.
"I should point out that she's being polite," Jason added. "She could probably just haul you over her shoulder if she wanted to. I'd get the door for her if she did. Seriously, Timbit, you've worked three fourteen-hour shifts this week, and it's only Thursday."
"Two," Tim corrected, still staring at Cass.
"Three. Falling asleep on the desk does not count as not working. Besides, I could see you thinking about the case while unconscious. You did that little scowly mouth twitch in your sleep. Yeah, that one," he said, grinning at Tim's expression.
Cass's eyes narrowed, her stance adjusted, and her scent took on an edge of determination. Tim wasn't stupid; he could spot a hint.
"Fine," he groaned, throwing his not-yet-abducted-by-Cass hand into the air. He reached over to the keyboard to hit ctrl+s and alt+f4, and then found himself summarily hoisted across Cass's shoulders in a fireman's carry. She ignored his squawk of indignation, adjusted him so he'd be more comfortable, and hummed to herself as she approached the elevator.
True to his word, Jason hit the button.
Once they were back in the Manor, Cass set Tim down gently on his feet, as if to tell him he was allowed to try to leave now--just not back into the Cave, as she stepped in front of the clock when he glanced back.
"You just wanted me to stop working?"
She took his hands in hers, more gently this time, and sent hopeful-pleading-concern-affection-want across their bond. That wasn't a yes; she had more than one motive.
He followed her.
She stopped outside Tim's door first and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He noticed that she was wearing flannel pajama pants and a soft old T-shirt. "You want me to change into comfy clothes?" he asked.
Cass nodded.
Tim shrugged and went in to swap his jeans out for sweatpants and put on a fresh T-shirt.
"Okay?" he asked, and she nodded again and led him just a bit further down the hall.
Cass stopped outside her door and released his hands, holding up her own to show that she wasn't trying to force him. Tim snorted, holding back a smile. Cass inclined her head and opened her door, gesturing to invite him in before leading the way, bouncing on her tiptoes. She crossed the room and leapt neatly into the nest on her bed.
Tim, tentatively following her in and shutting the door behind him, took in the room. It was softly lit by string lights, the sheer curtains were drawn, and a little vase of dandelions sat on her desk. Cass's nest took up the entire area of the queen-sized bed. Its materials had been carefully curated for their fluffiness and soft colors, mostly gentle blues and purples.
The things that didn't match were obviously borrowed: one of Bruce's jackets, still smelling of thunderstorms and wet masonry. An oversized gray T-shirt from Jason, with the scent of leather and old books and motor oil and baked goods still clinging to the fabric. One of Damian's stuffed animals, chile and dust and rose. A fuzzy blanket with elephants on it from Dick that Tim knew had been a permanent gift, although he borrowed it back sometimes to keep it smelling of oak and cedar and lavender and peppercorns. Even Alfred's scent was here, wisteria and clean laundry and bourbon, although he'd opted to scent one of the Manor's pillows to offer her rather than handing over his clothing. The weakest scent was currently Tim's own; the red sweater he'd lent her had been there a while. Maybe that was why she wanted him here.
Tim had a nest, too, but he didn't usually spend much time in it or seek out new materials very often. Usually he pilfered extra pillows and blankets from the back of one of the Manor's linen closets, stuff that wouldn't be noticed missing. Sometimes he took throw blankets that the others had been using, or just stole their laundry after Dick's reassurances that it was fine. Sometimes Alfred offered him things with the others' scent. Tim felt a little guilty about making him go to the trouble.
Apparently Cass didn't just take off with laundry, though. This time she'd gone straight to the source.
"You want me in your nest?" Tim asked, just to make absolutely sure.
Waaaaant-brother-pack-close, Cass told him across the bond, and then nodded too in case this wasn't enough. Carefully, Tim climbed in at the foot of the bed and settled himself between a giant plush bunny and a crocheted armadillo holding a pink and purple rocket launcher made out of foam wrapped in ribbons.
"...Does Steph crochet now?" Tim asked. It smelled like her, anyway, but maybe she'd bought it online--Steph was good at finding things no one else would think to look for.
Cass laughed and nudged Tim to get him to settle in. She curled up against him and purred experimentally, watching for his reaction.
Tim smiled and held up his wrist. "You want my scent?"
Cass stretched out, baring her neck, and purred emphatically, even more so when he gently pressed his wrist into the crook of her neck and swept his fingers through her hair. She kept purring as she returned the favor, mixing her jasmine and lemon peel and petrichor with his almond and vanilla and black tea and sandalwood. If Tim didn't know any better, their combined scent would have him guessing that Alfred and Jason were getting creative with their cake flavors again.
Cass didn't let go of his hand, though. She cuddled it up to the crook of her neck and hummed, a content smile on her face as she closed her eyes.
Tim wasn't sure what to do next. "Jason said you wanted..." he tried, but before he could finish the sentence, Cass moved his hand to the back of her neck and watched him expectantly. Her bond picked up again, submission-trust-happiness-hope.
Tim didn't think he'd ever get used to the way Cass used her bonds. He was glad she had this way to communicate, but even after several years, he was still getting used to having pack bonds. The first person he'd bonded with had been Bruce, which had taken a while in itself, and Bruce definitely didn't use it to communicate this much. Back then, Tim was happy if he could get Bruce to communicate at all.
Alfred had been the first to send Tim reassurance over their bond, and wound up having to explain to Tim what that was, and no, Master Timothy, it is not only a literary device. Dick had figured out pretty quickly that Tim wasn't used to communicating that way, and avoided sending him anything too intense, which wasn't a problem because he was expressive in other ways. Jason was... still figuring things out with his own bonds. He'd kept them locked down tight for a while after he rejoined the pack, and Tim had only learned later that it was because Jason hadn't wanted to subject any of them to secondhand Pit rage by accident. He was in better control now, though he still locked down when he was under stress.
But Cass? The way Cass used her bonds was something else. Tim would never ask her to back off, but as a way to communicate, it was so... raw. Intense, unfiltered, honest, both vulnerable and in your face. Which made it doubly confusing to be on the receiving end of submission, of all things. From Cass. He hadn't really believed Jason earlier.
"I'm not an alpha?" Tim pointed out.
A brief, confused frown passed over Cass's face. "Not required. Pack," she said. Pack, her bond echoed.
"Why?" Tim hoped he didn't sound like he was rejecting her, but he had a hard time understanding the appeal. He'd once let Dick scruff him when it hadn't been necessary, but that was... different. Dick had just rescued him from fear toxin, had brought him home, was caring for him in a way that still brought longing up through Tim's chest when he thought about it. (Silly.) But the point was--Dick had given him a reason to want that, had... not earned it, that wasn't the right word, because he was still just giving Tim a gift, going above and beyond what Tim deserved. Tim hadn't given Cass any reason to want this, not from him.
"Trust you," Cass answered, not at all offended. "Special."
She thought for a moment, then added: "Safe with pack. Sleep well, feels good. Not alone."
Oh. Tim could understand that part. "I won't leave you," he promised.
She smiled. "Know already." Apparently done with speaking for the night, she cuddled into Tim's chest to wait.
Tim had never done this before and didn't know the protocol. Could he hurt her by accident? Probably not, he decided, or Jason would have warned him. He tried to remember what it had been like when Dick had scruffed him, but all he could really bring to mind was the instant sense of relief and relaxation when he'd let go and Dick had just wrapped his arms around Tim like a cuddly, protective giant.
Could Tim really do that for someone else? Could he really do that for Cass, who was far more deadly than he was, far better able to protect herself than he could possibly protect her? Or maybe it wasn't about that. Maybe Cass just felt safe in Wayne Manor, and this was a side effect.
Trust you, she'd said. Special. Not alone.
Maybe it was a different kind of safety.
"I won't leave you," he repeated, and squeezed the back of her neck gently but firmly.
It only took a second. Cass smiled, went limp in his hand, and purred. Contentment washed over their bond. Her movements felt softer now, even feeble, as she snuggled in close. Tim cautiously wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. She didn't resist; her body lacked even the usual tension of someone who was alert and awake. It was almost alarming--or it might have been, if she didn't smell so blissfully happy.
Her scent smacked Tim like an unexpected pillow fight. It went right to the instinctive part of his brain without bothering to pass through any of the thinky bits. The packmate in his arms had to be cherished and protected at all costs. She was so soft and vulnerable and content and she smelled so good, he had to keep breathing deeply to take more of it in--
Tim struggled to keep his eyes open, too awestruck to give in to sleep without a fight. He'd caused this?
Cass keened a little, wanting his full attention. Tim's head snapped down to focus on her without consulting the rest of him. He hesitated, then started combing his fingers through her hair, vaguely remembering Dick doing something like that. Cass sighed and started purring again.
Her purring. How had he never noticed how intense her purring could get? It resonated through his chest as she clung to him. He hadn't noticed that his shoulders had been tense from sitting at the computer for so long until they weren't. He expected to feel sore or stiff, but he got the sense that those nerves were turned down right now, deprioritized, their grumpy message just not getting through.
She let him continue playing with her hair for what felt like hours but was probably closer to twenty minutes, judging by the sun filtering in through her sheer curtains. (Her curtains had little silk flowers stitched onto them and they dropped floral-shaped shadows onto Cass's cheeks and holy pheromones, Batman, was she always this precious? No wonder she wasn't worried about him leaving. Never.)
Cass reached for a loose fuzzy blanket at the foot of the nest, but couldn't quite snag it from her current position, even trying to bounce up to reach it. She squeaked, falling back down into the blankets. Tim smiled like a giddy idiot and sat up to get it for her. She pulled the blanket around both of them, weakly fluffing Tim's end over his shoulders. Still trying to take care of him, to be kind to him.
That wouldn't do; she had to know that she was the one who deserved to be treasured and cared for. Tim held her close and scented her again.
Cass had one more move left. She tugged Tim down to the pillows--not strong enough to physically force him this time, but he couldn't bear to refuse her anyway--then smiled, stroking her hand over his face and forcing him to close his eyes.
It was a dirty trick. He fell asleep instantly.
There was a knock at the door. "It's me," Dick called. Tim cracked his eyes open and tried to get his muscles to move.
"She's still asleep," Tim answered. The knock had woken him, but not Cass, who was still bonelessly curled around him. He gave up on trying to sit up.
"Sheesh, you must have done a good job," Dick said, coming in. "She's slept through breakfast. Don't worry," he added, "Alfie saved you two plenty of blueberry muffins. They'll be there when you're ready. If you're really hungry, I can bring you something now."
Tim shook his head. "I don't want to mess up her nest."
"She's really out, huh? I wonder what you did." In response to Tim's questioning expression, he explained: "It lasts longer when you feel safe and happy. The scruff effect, I mean. If you think you're in danger at all, it can wear off in minutes."
"Is she okay?" Tim asked, suddenly worried. Cass shifted in her sleep at the change in Tim's scent, but all she did was tug at his shirt. She didn't wake.
"What do you think?" Dick grinned. "She's got you right where she wants you. Smells pretty happy about it too."
"Is that... normal? It was even stronger earlier."
Dick laughed. "Yeah, Cass gives off happy pheromones like a tiny cuddle pollen factory. Don't tell Ivy." He frowned slightly for a second. "Hmm. If you can't move, and she's still scruffed... what was Jason telling me about fourteen-hour workdays?"
"That snitch," Tim groaned.
"Uh huh," Dick said, creeping closer to Tim. The caution was unnecessary; Tim was thoroughly glued in place by his sleeping sister, who seemed unlikely to wake for anything short of an assassination attempt. And Tim certainly wasn't going to move her. But--
"Not this again, go away," Tim complained, as Dick covered his eyes with a hand, making him close them.
"I picked up the smuggling case, you're stuck with the snuggling case," Dick singsonged. "Good work, by the way. On both."
"You... not Jason?" Tim wriggled, trying to stay awake.
A flash of amusement slipped across Dick's bond. "Jason too. He hasn't blown anything up yet he's not supposed to. It's okay, baby bird, you can afford to sleep. You've done plenty. We've got this."
Finally, Tim relaxed. When Dick let his hand stroke up into Tim's hair instead of covering his face, scenting him with soothing pheromones, Tim let himself blink sleepily and hold Cass tighter. She purred in her sleep, and Dick stroked the back of her shoulder affectionately, scenting her too. He pulled the blanket back up around Tim's and Cass's shoulders.
Warm, comfortable, holding his packmate, surrounded by Cass's purring and happy pack scent, and finally reassured that he wasn't letting anyone down by staying here, Tim felt himself start to drift. He couldn't quite put words together, so he tugged experimentally on Dick's bond, trying to say thank you. He wasn't sure if the message got through.
Dick chuckled. "Nighty night, Timmers."
As gently and quietly as the fall of a snowflake, Tim dropped back into sleep.