Chapter Text
Klarion has always been an Omega.
Back before he broke out of Limbo Town, though, everyone thought he’d be an Alpha. His mom was, and so was his dad. There hadn’t been an Omega in his side of the family in generations.
It wasn’t until he had gotten out of his first heat that he even realized what had happened. He came back to himself feeling a cold that had settled into his bones, and realized he’d been locked in his room.
From the outside.
He left Limbo Town that same night.
But this Earth doesn’t have designations, though, so he’s never felt the need to bring his designation up. To anyone.
So when he goes down in a fights it’s. Startling. Ya.
He usually plans better than this, but it crept up on him. It’s one of the only things he usually keeps a strict schedule about, to avoid situations exactly like this.
This being curled up into the fetal position in the middle of an unknown magical array.
He can feel his magic twisting. Shit.
It’s with Nightwing and he really can’t afford for his magic to be snuffing up like it is now but, gods, he hurts— the warehouse dust had covered the array on the floor, fuck—
Usually he locks himself in a pocket dimension for these with Teekl while he rides it out, but that witch trapped him in an array that took longer than normal to get out of with his pre-heat addled brain and—
He’d been finishing up some stuff for the Light before he dipped out. Then Nightwing had crashed his crib, and Teekl was always telling him he shouldn’t play with his food, but—
But now Nightwing is standing over him saying something. Ugh.
“Go away.” It comes out small and with a bit of a whine. Ugh.
The hero had his finger to his ear and was still. Talking.
“—I don’t know, we were fighting and now he’s laying on the ground and Zatara’s off world—“
Ew, her? Who smelled like rage and repressed sexual frustration all the time? He shivers.
“That dumb witch wouldn’t know about this anyway,” he snarks best he can while trying to disguise holding his abdomen. Heats in Limbo Town are times to be around family or a partner, and Teekl’s the closest he has. So where was she?
He groans as a fresh wave of pain hits him. He might be sweating too, it’s hard to tell.
Ok, yup, time to go. Where the hell is Teekl.
“Teekl—“ he manages to choke out right as someone touches his neck.
He jerks away and hisses, barely resisting the urge to bite at the gloved hand. It doesn’t have an organic scent and that’s wrong wrong wrong. Where is Teekl?
“TEEKL!”
“Hey, listen, I’m sure Teek—“
“Shut up, Nightwing,” he did not forget that he had been in the middle of a fight, “if your hero complex wants to help then find my cat.”
He gasps as another wave hits him, and then it’s a fight to stay aware of his surroundings.
Heats always made his magic act up. To be a Chaos or Order Lord you had to be genuine to your core to cast, and when he was like this…his priorities changed.
It was annoying.
He wanted his parents (locked up for being true to themselves, gone gone gone). He wanted his cat. He wanted to not be here, but his brain was too muddled to work out how to skip this plane to the next.
He realized he was crying. Fuck. Was the Nightwing brat still here? How long had it been?
“Mreow!”
He gets his eyes open. When had he closed them? “Teekl. You’re here.” Relief breaks over him. He opens his arms as Teekl leaps into them, growing slightly bigger so she was more huggable. She was amazing like that.
Pressing his face into her fur alway made him feel better. Her safe scent washes over him. He sighs.
A cough to his right. Teekl shifts as she looks up, the purr she had started shifting into something more aggressive.
“Um. I brought your cat?”
Klarion grunted. Why was Nightwing still here?
Whatever. Teekl was here, she’d protect him.
Or at least that’s what his instincts were telling him- along with the urge to bury himself in something protective and sleep.
“I—” the hero sighs, “are you ok?” Ugh, he even smelled earnest under all that plastic and Kevlar.
Klarion grumbles. He’s fine now. Would be. Whatever!
Maybe if he stayed quiet enough the hero would go away.
“Listen, I’m not really comfortable leaving when you’re…like this. Are you sick?”
“Why do you care?” Klarion held Teekl tighter. He didn’t want to look up- now that the smell of smoke had settled, he could smell more of the hero beneath the suit. He was actually worried, and it wasn’t helping his instincts. This guy was the enemy! Hell, he helped trap him in this stupid array! And yet—
Stupid stupid stupid omega instincts.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smelled someone being- being concerned about him. Millennia, probably. He was used to that smell being aimed at other people, not him.
It was throwing him off.
The silence seems to only egg on his focus and he picks up the exact moment that the hero’s worry tips over into something that smells suspiciously like guilt-shame. What the hell.
That was it.
He peeked an eye open to look at Nightwing. His lips were pursed and…was he hovering?
“…Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like— like I don’t know! Some poor helpless damsel!”
“Did the array hurt you?”
“What- you think a little baby capture array like that could hurt me?”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Teekl finally fully growls at him. He pets the back of her neck- she always got protective when he was like this.
“Meow!” You should tell him.
“What! Why? He—“
“Meow. Meow mrow.” Because. We’re out in open space and more heroes might come.
Klarion sighs. “Teekl…”
“Meowwww.” You’ve been putting it off for those stupid Light idiots, so it’s only going to get worse from here, you know.
“I hate when you’re right.”
He glances at Nightwing. He’s pretty sure he’s just getting more concerned over there by his scent. It’s cinnamon and something else, and it’s got that sharp bit that’s screaming urgency and-
“Why should I tell him?”
“Meow. Meow sksksks.” Don’t have to tell him. Just take him, she pronounces, snuggling under his chin. It’s a struggle not to relax into it, until her words register.
“What ?”
“What’s she saying?”
“Meow.” I’ll act as a conduit. Do it before you go deeper. You’ve been putting his off, you’re going to need more than just me. I’m having to start communication with you with vocals first, for crying out loud.
“But—”
“Meow.” Klarion.
“Fine. I— ok. Ok.”
He looks up at Nightwing. This isn’t the kind of thing that can be forced- you have to ask. He doesn’t like rules, but breaking the old taboo from Limbo Town doesn’t hold any appeal to him right now.
“Nightwing.”
“…yes?” Oh that’s the first time he’s used his name, huh? Whatever. He needs to get this out before he looses his focus again— holding Teekl helped clear his brain, but that will only work for so long. He forces himself not to bury his nose in her coat again.
“Do you still want to help?”
“Are you gonna die if I don’t?”
Klarion purses his lips. “…no.”
“Meow.” Klarion .
“I won’t!”
“I don’t speak cat, but she seems to disagree.”
“Don’t speak for her. You don’t even know what she’s say- gah!” He doubles over back into his fetal position. Fuck, he doesn’t have long- he should just take Teekl and leave already, why is he even entertaining this idea, he hates this-
“Ok! Ok. What do I need to do?” Nightwing is suddenly kneeling by him, and when did he get so close, his concern-protect scent is throwing him off. It’s stronger now. He almost chokes on it.
“I need— I need to get us out of here.”
“You and Teekl? I can—“
“Might—” he struggles for the words. English on Earth, some small voice reminds him. It’s hard to keep his translator spell working as he falls deeper, takes a breath, “might need you there.”
“Me?” The disbelief in his scent is palpable, he can taste it in the back of his throat, and slams down on his instincts that scream that the Alpha is rejecting you. He’s not even an Alpha!
“Just—“ he grits his teeth, looking for the English word while desperately scrambling to keep his translator spell in place. They really don’t have long. He looks up at Nightwing and desperately hopes he isn’t crying. This is why he hates heats: he loves chaos, but only when he’s the one who gets to unleash it. As is, he’s barely able to keep the burning fever back, the heat fog is already starting to cloud up his brain, and he can’t tell if it’s the fever or tears blurring his vision. “Please?”
Nightwing’s jaw drops. Klarion doesn’t look away, cataloging everything as it flies through Nightwing’s scent and face. Faintly, he realizes that he’s starting to shake- he hasn’t made an offer like this (and truly when an Omega does this, that’s what it is) in millennia. He’s a little surprised his instincts even remember how.
“I— ya. Ya, ok. Just- you’ll return me afterwards?”
He feels a sob rattle from his chest— he needs to get them out of there, now. The Alpha agreed, so it’s time to go. Times up.
“Wait- you’re not gonna, like, sacrifice me or something, right?”
“Teekl,” Klarion says as he shoots out his arm and grabs Nightwing by the wrist. Time to go. He summons his magic and focuses best he can on Teekl and where he’s drawing Nightwing’s wrist in, letting her direct where they land. She knows where to go.
“Woah, hey, wai—“
Teekl scratches the ground, and they leave Earth.