Chapter Text
Tick… Tick… Tick
“Let’s say I am being neglected. What would you even do about it, other than a pointless investigation that ends with me back with my ‘abusers’?” Green eyes pinned down the frazzled women, brown eyes wide at being directly confronted by the helpless omega so bluntly. The corner of pink lips curled up in the corner as green eyes narrowed with mirth at her speechless response. “Well, I suppose that answers my question hmm?”
Behind the Omega Protection Services representative, the clock continued to tick away the minutes and Damian could only reflect on how his afternoon was being wasted by this farce. Though he suppose he had let the whole thing get a little out of hand if they were at this point.
You see it all began when Tara and her usual group of lackeys approached him in the hallway between his third and fourth period. Already Damian’s patience was short, his next class was flower pressing and sometimes he contemplated sneaking in water hemlock just to make the whole thing worth his time. To dissuade this urge, he often reminded himself of the lectures he would receive and that tended to nip it right in the bud. So, when Tara stopped in front of him and snapped her hands to her hips, he knew it was going to be colossal waste of his time. In a seeming attempt to intimidate him she just stood blocking his way while saying nothing. Damian fortunately was not a grade schooler and did not care for these childish tactics, thus he did not see it as a loss when he said “…. Can I help you, Tara.” Though by her little smirk she likely thought she was claiming the first victory of the conversation.
“You actually can help me Damian, you see my dads abusive, and I need help.” With that bomb delivered she said nothing else, no elaboration, no question, just that declaration.
“.. Alright, and this concerns me how?” After a moment Damian grimaced and wondered if this was one of those moments, he should have expressed sympathy like Richard chided him. But this was Tara so the sympathy would probably be wasted anyway.
“And! I heard what you did for Clarissa so I thought you could help me as well” Tara seemingly not deterred by Damian’s lackluster response bulldozed right ahead with her lackeys nodding their heads behind her. And her words weren’t wrong, Damian had pulled some strings when Clarissa started coming into school beat black and blue. Though Tara seemed to be ignoring some key differences in her situation and Clarissa’s. The key one being Clarissa’s deadbeat alpha pack leader had actually been abusive. Tara’s just didn’t want to take the pack to Bali this summer. And of-course Tara’s mother had been stepping out on him and he was close to finding out. All the things he knew because Tara lacked a filter and was so self-absorbed she thought everyone cared about these ‘hardships’ in her life.
“It sounds like a problem for the police, not sure why you’re coming to me?” Damian responded, playing dumb, trying to smile like that foolish Drake but instead it came across as more of a grimace.
“Please, everyone knows the Wayne name carries more weight than the cops. Just help me like you did Clarissa. God knows if the Waynes run him out of town mother’s new alpha can take over and he promised me a new Gucci bag!” Her tone was way too chipper for a daughter talking about running off her birth father.
“First off the Waynes didn’t run Clarissa’s father out of town, he was arrested on drug trafficking charges.” Damian pointed out, “Second, since your dads not beating you to shit or dealing drugs like Clarrissa’s I think your case of abuse holds little weight.”
Tara’s smile froze on her face cracking like glass, blue eyes becoming a little wild as she narrowed them on the smaller omega. “So, you’re not going to help me out Wayne? You’re going to let a fellow omega live in a household of abuse.” It was almost snarled out at him, and he narrowed his eyes in response squaring his shoulders.
“It seems your lacking basic comprehension because I believe I just told you I can’t help you, not won’t. And let the record state I don’t really give a shit about your household abuse Tara. Because frankly it sounds like your mom’s the homewrecker not your father. Perhaps I should help you expose her affair?” By the end he had taken a step closer, refusing to be intimidated by some socialite omega.
As suddenly as she turned into a spitting cat Tara went back to a fluffy kitten taking a step back with a fake little laugh. “Haha, your so funny Wayne.” She waved a hand and turned to head off but called back over her shoulder, “It’s a shame we couldn’t come to an agreement today, well a shame for you. Because in the end I’ll get what I want regardless.”
Damian said nothing as he watched her walk off and dismissed her words as empty threats just as quickly. Forgetting all about the interaction by the time he walked into his fourth period.
Staring down as his locker after the morning swim Damian pondered that perhaps he had been too quick to dismiss Tara. Because where his pearl collar should have been sitting instead sat empty space.
Technically collars weren’t mandatory for omegas, but all omegas who had packs wore them even those who didn’t have packs. Society was unfair to omegas and an omegas word was always weighed below an alpha. So, if an alpha harassed an omega, it was a battle of, she said he said. Unless that omega had a pack alpha willing to go to bat for them. Thus, a collared omega was much less likely to be harassed than a bare necked one. Their vulnerability was even weighed by the make and value of their collar; as poor omegas tended to use embroidered ribbon while omegas belonging to more influential packs had pearls, diamonds, etc. Most packs choose which collar their omega wore for the day and locked it on their necks; a private little ceremony to show the value the omega had to them. It was a deeply fucked up practice in Damian’s opinion but since coming to America at 11 he had learned to conform.
For Damian to go out of the locker room lacking his collar was as good as saying he wasn’t valued by his pack. That they didn’t care if he went out as a target, if he was seen as easy prey. This perception was damaged by the fact he had come in with his pearl collar that morning, though those that saw him with it were few as his swim club was before the first bell. Gritting his teeth he slammed the locker closed, lifted his chin and marched out of the changing room. He refused to give whatever lackies Tara had watching him the satisfaction.
The games continued for the next two weeks, until Damian stopped wearing his collar to gym class. As so many had been lost to thieving hands. Instead, he would unlock them in the back of the car and switch them out for a simple green ribbon he had taken from an art kit. Tying a neat little bow as the base of his throat. The ribbon wouldn’t get stolen after the morning swim as it was something a ‘cheap’ omega would wear. Damian imagined Tara found it more degrading to see him with a ribbon than with nothing. The ribbon cried of an omega desperate for affection making their own collar to feel more valued. In truth Damian started doing the ribbon just to save himself from having to cover up where all his collars had disappeared too if the pack asked questions.
It worked well too, Damian able to grab the collar he’d hidden for the day out from under the car seat as he was picked up in the afternoon and refasten, so he returned to the manor in the same collar he left in. Not that anyone was ever there to see his return, but it was better to be prepared for the unexpected.
Well, it worked well until Tara enacted step two of her plan. And honestly is she wasn’t such a selfish bitch Damian was rather sure they could have been great friends. Because part two of the plan was making her mother a ‘hero’.
“Can Damian Wayne please come to the counselor office. That’s Damian Wayne to the counselor’s office.” As the intercom went off Damian had enough time to catch Tara’s vicious smirk before she ducked her head. Then his teacher ushered him out the door with a pitying look. So, Damian supposed she must have known what he was going to the counselor’s office for.
Which brought them to now, a representative from the Omega Protection Services asking if he was being neglected by his pack.
“Now Damian I can assure we do out best to rescue every omega in difficult situations. And by the reports we’ve been receiving you’re in a difficult situation” she soothed. Though in truth it just made Damian want to gag at her sickly sweet tone.
“What reports?” He demanded though he was rather sure he could guess.
“I cannot tell you that as the reporters are guaranteed anonymity.” She countered, “All I can tell you is that we will be thoroughly investigating them and until your pack is cleared, you’ll be staying with a foster pack.”
“The reports hold no weight, I have no bruises, I’m not missing any days, my grades are as high as they can be.”
“Well, that might be true Damian. But you’ve been coming in without a collar or with an assumed homemade collar for weeks. This shows a shocking lack of attention being paid, not only that but by all reports you’re withdrawn from the others in class and rarely engage. And when you do engage your antagonistic and abrasive. All things that go against an omegas nature unless they are in distress.”
“Oh, so I can’t express frustration with the simpletons I’m surrounded by because I’m an omega?” Damian hated that he hadn’t seen where Tara might be taking this. He should have seen it. Talking about abuse, pushing her buttons by saying her mother was abusive. Barking out a laugh he slumped back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at the representative. Tara would see what this got her, oh he would show her abuse.
“So, what next?” He lowered himself to ask, knowing that no matter what he said she had an image in her head now and he wouldn’t be convincing her otherwise. He would need his father to make this whole thing go away, which should be easy enough considering his resources. But it was humiliating, nonetheless.
“We will notify you pack alpha of the investigation and that you will be taken out of his custody until the investigation is complete.” She responded, calm and seemingly satisfied that Damian seemed to now be going along with her.
The thought of his father receiving such a phone call when he was no doubt at Drakes bedside in the penthouse made Damian grimace. His father would be furious to be pulled away from his proteges side when the beta was fighting a deadly infection. In the past month Damian had seen his pack maybe three times. All sequestered away at the penthouse in downtown Gotham while Damian was locked down in the manor. Handled by the household staff, a cook to make meals, a butler who passed along his father’s collar choice of the day, and the driver who took him to and from school. Not to mention the numerous guards his father had around the manor and with him in his commute from the manor to school and then back. Damian had essentially been cut off for the past month under the reason he was susceptible to Drakes infection which they all knew was bullshit. The real reason was Drake was a weak-willed beta and couldn’t deal with Damian’s antagonization without it ‘putting back his healing’. So, Damian was kept away as to not bother Drake, to not hinder his healing.
The last time Damian had seen any of his pack had been before this whole fiasco started so he was unsure if Drake was on the mend. Perhaps the beta was wilting away and holding hands with death. If it was the later Damian doubted his father would even cooperate with the investigation nor his brothers. He wondered if that meant he would become a foster of the state but decided it would be safer not to ask. It would likely make his pack look worse; he would just look it up later.
“Damian, would you like to go pick up some of your things?” She prompted
“Is that allowed? How many things do I need if it will only be a few days?”
“Well ideally it will only be a few days, but, well… if we have concerning findings, it might take longer.” She clarified
Concerning findings, like the fact my father owns Gotham? Damian wanted to ask just to see her face blanche. Because the Waynes owned Gotham, everyone knew that. They might not be in the office, but the Waynes pulled the strings of every politician and criminal in the city. For OPS to mess with the Waynes that had to mean they had a significant backer, and Damian would put money on it being Tara’s mother. She was new money but not insignificant money, a widow twice over she had inherited a lot from her last two relationships and just kept building on it. Damian didn’t know where she stood with his father having not seen the man in a month and having no opportunities to snoop or eavesdrop. But whatever her standing was it was about to crumble out from under her.
“I don’t need to get my things. I can use whatever the foster pack provides.” He decided, knowing his father would make this all go away before Damian would even be able to unpack.