Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dick was already moving past the building when he heard that distinctly pup-ish keen. He doubles back, not hesitating to rush through a shattered window in time to see two bulking alphas overpowering a scrawny kid. The boy hisses, scratching and thrashing to try to get out of their painful hold. Even with the window bringing in a cold draft, the overwhelming scent of heat pheromones makes Dick hesitate a breath too long before he launches himself at the nearest alpha. Despite the boy looking too young to be presenting, it’s obvious what’s happening here. 

He knocks the knothead out rather easily, as most alphas are frailer than they’d like to admit. The other puts up a pathetic fight, holding up the squirming pup with a weak threat. There’s not enough thought behind the muscle to enforce a sudden hostage situation. Dick takes down the man quickly, gently lowering the kid to the ground before he could be dropped. He whimpers immediately, curling in on himself like Dick is here for the same reason as those alphas. 

He’s beyond words already, his new cherry scent overtaking the milky pup pheromones in a devastating sourness. It stings his eyes, like an entire cherry tree field has burnt within the room. It’s cloying against his tongue when he opens his mouth to try to soothe the baby omega, “it’s gonna be okay. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.” As expected, the pup doesn’t respond past another fearful cry and a pained shuffle as he tries to crawl further away. “Do you know who I am?” Dick asks, both as to assure the kid that he won’t hurt him as well as to see if there’s any coherency left. He smells rather deep into his first heat, but with the adrenaline of being attacked it’s possible it forced some semblance of coherency. 

The pup shows no recognition of being spoken to, fat tears streaming down his face as he sobs. “I’m Nightwing, I’m here to help you.” He lowers his voice, suddenly wishing he didn’t have to wear scent patches during patrols if only so he could more easily soothe this weeping child. He crouches down, overtly aware of how looming his figure could be to someone so small. While anyone between the ages of ten to fifteen has the chance to present, it’s most likely for twelve and thirteen year olds. Looking at this scrawny kid, all bones and frailty, he can’t help but think he looks younger than possible for a first heat. 

His whole body trembles with each heaving sob, expending what little energy he must have with the force of his cries. He won’t be able to settle like this, not with his attempted rapists lying unconscious just a few feet away. He keeps his voice light, hoping that even if the pup can’t comprehend his words that maybe he can find solace in his kind tone. “I’m not leaving, I’m just going to take these bastards outside. I’ll be right back.” 

Dick makes quick work of zip tying their wrists and throwing them into the street, leaving them bound for the police to arrest. By the time he runs back up to the seemingly otherwise abandoned apartment building, the boy is wailing. He’s loud enough for Dick to have to worry about other lust-filled knotheads drawing closer at the sound of a child so clearly within his cycle. He comes forward, slow enough to hopefully not startle him further. 

His eyes are blown wide, glassy both with his streaming tears and the inevitable fuzziness that comes with presentation. That’s one reason why it’s so essential for pups to have a caretaker during their first heat or rut, to ensure they’re taken care of when their brain is beyond lucidity. No worthwhile pack member or parent would ever in their right mind allow a child so young to be alone during such a vulnerable time. All at once, he realizes he can’t leave him behind. Clutching at his own stomach in a sad attempt at an embrace, crying so hard he seems close to vomiting, Dick can’t just drop him off at a facility.

Male omegas are by far the rarest dynamic, half the percentage of female alphas, the next most uncommon dynamic. Dick himself has only met a handful of them. He can’t imagine this kid has an omega to turn to, not if he’s holed up here, in some dingy apartment. He’s pretty sure there’s mold in the corners, discoloring the already shoddy paint job. Even if there wasn’t already easy entry for anyone to waltz in, it wouldn’t be suitable. 

As much as he’d like to think a professional Heat Center would be ideal for a kid like this, there’s a reason he himself has never gone to one. Even during his worst fights with Bruce over the years, he’s always felt safer locked in his bedroom than in some facility. With how out of it the kid is, it would be far too easy for someone to take the opportunity to traffic such a rare find. He can’t risk it, not without proper research and vetting to ensure the place is secure and credible. There’s no time, this pup is in heat now. He needs someone now and Dick is the only one here.

Besides, what are the odds he’ll find another acceptable omega tonight, ready and willing to guide this boy through his first heat? While all presentations are inherently non-sexual as the body adjusts to such rapid changes in their biology and anatomy, there’s plenty of assholes who would go against that. Dick will eternally be grateful that he was long since taken in by Bruce by the time he got his first heat, allowing him a home with his own nest to ride the fever out. He’ll give this boy what he can, anything to ease the vicious pain he’s in. 

He knows firsthand how agonizing it is for the body to rapidly build new reproductive organs. Looking around the room, he doesn’t spot anything to indicate the kid has taken any pain medications. He doesn’t see anything at all, that would soothe his distress. No nest, not even a blanket. He can’t imagine how much agony he has to be in, without anything to help ease the ache.

He doesn’t know if the kid is lucky or not to have stayed awake this long. He was able to attempt fighting off those alphas but at the cost of being aware of every horrific hurt and change in his body. 

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” Dick says it because he has to, any chance this pup can understand him and he needs him to know he means it. Dick will do whatever it takes to help him, to give him the care he’s so clearly lacking. “I want to help you.” The boy whimpers, and Dick can’t tell if it’s because of the torturous pain or because of what he said. “Those men can’t hurt you now.” 

He moves closer, lowering himself to the ground. When the pup doesn’t flinch, he shifts until he’s within reaching distance. He can’t see any visible injuries on the boy, beyond yellowing bruises, hopefully meaning that he came in time to prevent any further trauma. There’s no saying what could be hiding below his ill-fitting clothes, but that’s a problem for later. Hopefully, for when he has the kid wrapped up in some blankets, resting peacefully with some meds in him. 

He can already feel it, his inner omega reaching out, desperate to soothe this pup. He has no doubt that if he didn’t wear the most high-end of scent patches that his protective-comforting-claiming pheromones would fill the room enough to compete with the smell of heat. 

He can’t risk removing them, not until he gets the kid home. God, he wants to know his name. It feels almost inhumane just to refer to him as a puppy, like he’s no more than the baby omega he’s turning into. There’s nothing he can do about it now though, not when the kid is retching on the taste of his own snot dribbling into his mouth. It’s heartwrenchingly pitiful, how small he is and yet all he does is try to curl up tinier. 

He doesn’t reach out yet, as desperate as he is to. He’s now sat right beside the boy, and he’s no longer trying to scoot away. Dick is unsure, though, if it’s because of contentment or simply the lack of energy to shy away. “Can I touch you?” He asks. He waits several beats of quiet shuddering sobs before he speaks again. “I’m going to touch your shoulder, okay? Shake your head if you want me to stop.” 

He moves slow enough that he won’t miss even the most subtle changes in scent or posture, any indication he’s scaring this kid more than he already is. His touch is feather light against his boney shoulder and the pup outright keens, a primal sort of needing sound. He leans into the touch best he can, hungry and desperate. It’s the sign Dick needs to grasp a bit firmer, not enough to hurt, never, but to provide an anchoring sort of touch. The boy takes to it like fish to water, a pained whimper escaping him when he fruitlessly attempts to shuffle closer. His scent swells, pleasepleaseplease it begs. He doesn’t need to ask anymore, Dick knows. 

He reaches both hands out, gently easing the pup up. He leans heartily into the touch, allowing Dick to pull him into an embrace. He whines, scent beginning to sweeten when he finally gets the tactile comfort all omegas so fervently need. He mewls, and even without words Dick knows what he craves. As painlessly as he can he pulls the kid into his lap, readily taking on his full weight when he leans against him. He collapses into his hold, tears still streaming down his face as he clutches at Dick’s shirt. White-knuckled, as if Dick will suddenly throw him off, as if he could decide he’s not worth the comfort. 

Dick holds him closer, wrapping both arms around him and hating how thin he is, proof of clearly how little food he’s had access to. Not anymore, he can’t help but think. It’s rather hard to reign in his instincts when he has a pup bawling against his chest, his shirt dampening with tears and drool. He rubs his back, anything to reassure the kid to not be embarrassed of his need. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, reverent and perhaps too honest. “I’m here.” 

The boy rubs his face against his shoulder, his chest, anywhere he can reach, in a clear attempt at scenting. Dick is certain he’s already fully saturated by the cherrymilk scent but he wouldn’t dare stop him. If this eases even a bit of his ache, he’ll allow it. He presses his cheek against his head and allows a few breaths to bask in how boneless he’s grown. Relaxing so nicely now that he’s being held.  

He knows he needs to properly check him over for injuries, ensure there’s nothing he has to tend to immediately, but it’s awfully hard to move when the boy is no longer gasping for air. He rubs his wrist slowly over his back, while his scent won’t transfer with the patches in the way, the act is comforting in itself. The pup shudders out a sigh, and seems to somehow melt further into the hug. It’s precious, if he allows himself the thought. He deserves so much more than this, hiding in a shitty room praying alphas don’t hunt him down. It doesn’t even feel like a realization, to know that he’d do anything to keep this kid sweet smelling and loose-limbed. 

He’s cherry-sweet and Dick uses the proof of his settling to resolve himself. As much as his inner omega howls at him, he has to be a hero first, to meet all his needs, not just cuddles. 

“I’m not going to leave you,” he says first, wanting to stave off any separation anxiety the kid may have after what may be his first gentle touch in who knows how long. “I’m going to shift us so we can get up.” The only response he gives is when Dick actually starts moving. He gives a wordless trill, grappling fiercely at his clothes in an attempt to stay. It breaks his heart a bit, that the pup is so far gone already. “I’ve got you, I’m just going to stand up.” He makes each movement deliberate. Even if the kid can’t currently comprehend his words at least he can understand his actions.

He manages to get on his feet without ever losing hold of the child, cradling him securely against his chest. He somehow feels littler now, with a hand braced below his knees and around his back, he seems suddenly more fragile. The pup doesn’t hesitate to press his face against the crook of his neck, nosing his collar, right where his scent would be the strongest. Something inside him preens at the thought, that he can bring comfort to the kid even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening. 

Dick makes quick work of checking the room, double checking there’s no belongings the boy might have left hidden. When he comes up empty handed he carries him out, mentally mapping the quickest route back to the manor.

/

Dick can only thank his teenage rebellion streak for having memorized a route to his bedroom that manages to successfully evade both Bruce and Alfred. He locks the door behind him, hoping the boy’s pheromones don’t linger too long in the hallway. It would have been unsafe to try to stifle his newly blooming scent in the midst of his cycle. So all he could do was run and hope that not even Bruce’s sensitive alphan nose would catch whiff of a stranger. The kid is limp in his arms, his shallow breathing the only indication that he’s still hanging on. When Dick looks at his nest, a cozy structure of blankets and pillows, he doesn’t feel any of that possessiveness he would have expected. Instead, his omega seems to purr at the idea of sharing such a vulnerable part of himself with the boy. 

He takes the realization in stride. As much as he wants to simply burrow in, swaddle the pup in a comforter and scent him into a restful sleep, there’s still much to be done. He fights down the bubbling nausea at the idea of scaring the kid and instead carries him to the attached bathroom to find supplies. He makes easy work of finding the required items. Some clean towels, washcloths, his well used first aid kit, medications, and the like. Anything he could think of that’ll ease the kid through this unfortunately necessary step. 

There’s still more he’ll have to grab from elsewhere in the manor, primarily the kitchen. Foolishly, he hasn’t yet restocked his supply of heatmilk cartons since his last cycle. Blessedly, he knows Alfred keeps plenty in storage, for such an occasion he has a stress induced heat or is otherwise unprepared. Even if he had been closer to Bludhaven than the manor, he wouldn’t have had the necessary supplies for the kid. It’s not as if he could leave the pup behind to go to the store, nor could he request delivery for what’s clearly heat supplies. He’s not suicidal. Even with the risk of getting found out, staying here is the safer solution. No matter how many alarms he sets up in his apartment, it’ll never compare to all the security measures Bruce has set up.

With that all in tow he brings the kid back out to the nest. He manages to hold the kid in one arm, braced against his hip, while he uses the other to smooth the towels over a flatter part of the structure. After putting the supplies down he goes to the wardrobe. While he knows he won’t have anything properly fitting for such a small child, he’s always been somewhat of the sentimental sort and knows he has a couple clothing items from when Bruce first took him in. 

After some one-handed digging, he finds the Batman sweatshirt he was gifted for his first birthday under his mentor’s care. Holding it up, it’ll still be too big for the kid but at least it won’t swamp him like any of Dick’s current clothes will. He doesn’t have any pants or underwear from when he was that little, but he finds sweatpants he grew out of awhile ago and an unopened pack of Batman briefs he was given as a gag gift years ago. Though he’s sure they’re not the precise size, it’ll be better than whatever soiled garments the pup has on now. 

Not for the first time he’s grateful that he has such a large bed, allowing a nest big enough to comfortably lay the kid out as well as set out everything needed to clean and dress him. It’s not ideal, to say the least, to have to take off the kids clothes so soon after he was assaulted. But looking at the way he trembles even laying down, there’s no way he’d be able to stay on his own long enough to bathe let alone shower. 

Expectedly, he whines when he’s put down. He reaches grabby hands up to Dick and his heart clenches at the sight. He looks even younger like this, eyes wide with fresh tears and ruddy cheeks. He can’t help but lean down, brushing sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “I’m here,” he says, “I’m not leaving. I just need to clean you up.” He takes a breath, steeling himself to the inevitable breakdown. “I promise you I will not hurt you. I’ll be as quick as I can, I just need to clean you up and make sure you don’t have any injuries.”

He hiccups on a sob, too busy trying to roll over and sit up than actually listen to what Dick is saying. With a gentle hand to his shoulder, he keeps him lying flat. “I will not touch you in any way that purposely hurts you,” he says, because actually saying something along the lines of I will not rape you makes him far too queasy. He can’t even imagine the temptation of wanting to violate such an innocent pup, let alone actually following through. He’s so young. He deserves to be cherished, to be loved and cared for. He shouldn’t have to worry about whether Dick will stay proper. His only worry should be getting enough rest. 

He realizes then, that he can finally take off his scent patches. Even if he can’t comprehend his words, his newfound omegan instincts should still find solace in the soothing scent. He takes off his collar, an intimacy not even Bruce or Alfred are allowed these days. He rips off every patch, uncaring of the small sting it brings so long as he can start pumping a comforting scent into the room. While his nest is almost stifling with his sweet honey smell, it’s not the same as fresh from his glands. The boy gulps open mouthed, greedy as he tries to inhale as much of the protective-caring-soothing scent. It’s the deepest breath he’s taken all night and it only encourages Dick to keep pumping honey into the room. 

When he’s relaxed against the towel, chest rising and falling evenly, Dick continues.  “I’m going to take your shoes off first,” he narrates. While he makes a confused noise, he doesn’t kick out. “Now the socks.” He hopes that on some level, he can hear the cadence of his voice and understand that Dick won’t be cruel. “I’m going to take your shirt off,” he says, already bracing himself for the fight to come. As soon as he tugs at the hem the boy is wailing, batting at his hands to be let go. He wriggles and Dick has to hold a hand to his belly to keep him from crawling away. 

He’s as gentle as he can, voice low, “I’m just going to clean you up and then I'll give you new clothes.” He manages to pull the ratty shirt off, revealing bruised and battered skin. With every heaving inhale Dick can make out the clear indent of each rib, definite proof of malnutrition. There’s some scarring, but it doesn’t look too outlandish for a kid who’s been on the streets for however long. He makes quick work of wiping him down with the washcloth, cleansing him of all the sweat and grime he can without irritating any of the wounds. It’s nothing too major, all things considered. Still, any hurt is too much, he doesn’t deserve it. 

The pup is still whimpering when he eases him onto his side, revealing minor bruising along his back. His spine sticks out like this, making him look all the more sickly. He hasn’t calmed down at all even when he’s on his back again. Belly up and weeping, not even Dick’s scent is enough to ease his distress. Knowing the best thing he can do is finish up, he says, “now I’m going to remove the pants.”

This time, the boy actually manages a good kick to Dick’s stomach before he gets ahold of his feet. The kid bawls harder, as if hurting Dick only hurt him too. It makes his chest noose-tight and he still finishes pulling the pants off. His legs are in similar shape to the rest of his body, bruised and a bit scarred but nothing too severe. He wipes as much as he can without trailing too close to his most sensitive areas. The kid trills when he accidentally brushes against the newly forming scent glands of his inner thighs, swollen with heat. He has to be aching so badly and Dick really should have given him pain meds before forcing him through this. There’s no time to properly berate himself when he has a crying kid to care for.

He takes another settling breath, already hating himself when he says, “I’m going to remove your underwear now. I just need to check for injuries and then I’ll dress you.” He already opened the pack of briefs, ensuring there will be no delay before the kid’s modesty is preserved. He swiftly pulls off the undies, not wanting his hesitation to further distress the pup. At this point, any sort of fight is exhausted out of him. He simply covers his face, sobbing so hard he’s gagging against his own hands. Dick would rather be kicked in the face than witness the utter defeat in the child, resignation that there’s nothing he could do to stop Dick.

“I’ll be quick,” he hates how his voice wavers. He needs to be grounded, a pillar of support, and instead his hands tremble as he’s met with blood staining the kids pale skin. It takes him several beats too long to remember that it’s rather common for male omegas to bleed during their presentation, as their new anatomy opens up and settles in their body. Dick had also dealt with minor bleeding, leading to a rather alarming and confusing conversation with Alfred when he had come crying to him about it. Even after both his caretakers had tried to explain what a presentation could entail, it didn't stop his panic when he went to the bathroom and found his privates bleeding.

That’s all it is, a normal amount of spotting for a baby omega. All the same, Dick’s heart threatens to shatter his ribs with the ferocity of its beating. Cruel images flash through his brain of alternate reasons for blood between the kids legs, fears that he was too late after all when he stopped those alphas. There’s no further inclination, though, that the kid actually was violated in that way, so he shoves down his rising nausea and makes quick work of wiping all the red away. 

He slides the new briefs up the kids legs, whispering reassurances of how well the pup did. They're not as big on him as he feared so hopefully when the kid finally has the strength to stand they won’t simply slip off his hips. He then pulls the sweatpants on, wanting to give the kid another reassurance that he truly won’t molest him. He already feels predatory enough for simply cleaning him, as necessary as it was. But he knows firsthand how uncomfortable a rash is down there if the blood is not properly wiped away. 

If the kid continues to bleed though he’ll have to see about getting slick pads. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than him leaking through his clothes. The boy is limp when he eases him into the sweatshirt, body seeming to have given out despite his eyes still open. Shock, he thinks. 

He spares a few moments to brush his fingers through the kid’s curly hair, careful not to tug at any of the tangles. He’ll need to bathe him later, properly brush his hair out, but for now it’s enough. After everything, he still leans into Dick’s touch. He doesn’t deserve it, this level of trust, but god if he doesn’t want to try to earn it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He means it more than anything he’s ever uttered, and he doesn’t know if the pup even heard. It needs to be said though, and he’ll say it again when the kid crawls back into awareness. 

Once the boy is no longer trembling so terribly, he manages to get some pain meds in him. He can only hope they kick in quickly. Though his scent still has that underlying sourness of hunger, there’s nothing Dick can do about it without leaving the room. He has no doubt it’ll only cause more distress if he tries to leave him now, even temporarily. So he swallows down the guilt and settles into the nest beside the boy. With what little strength the kid must have, he manages to shuffle closer. 

When his intent is clear, Dick helps move him to lay atop of him, pillowed on his chest. The pup settles so nicely, wrapped in his arms. He nuzzles his cheek against his shirt and lets out a stuttering sort of purr. Ridiculously, that’s what makes the ever-present tears stinging against the back of Dick’s eyes to leak out. He’s careful to remain still, not wanting to disturb the boy now that he’s finally settled. 

/

The pup doesn’t sleep through the night, not that Dick expected him to, as much as he may have hoped. He wakes with a cry, taking several minutes of shaking sobs to seemingly remember where he is, who’s in bed beside him. Dick soothes him through it, scenting and petting until he’s able to catch his breath. With another dose of pain meds, the kid falls back asleep. 

It’s more than a little tempting to curl back up with the boy, allow his steady breathing to lull him to slumber. Dick can’t allow himself the relaxation though, not when there’s so much to do. The sun is only just beginning to peek over the horizon, and he only has so much time until Alfred is scheduled to begin on his morning duties. 

He smooths a hand over the baby omega’s hair, ensuring he stays asleep even after Dick slips out of the nest. He twitches a bit, but thankfully stays under. Dick won’t leave him alone for long, he couldn’t bear it, but he has to stock up while he has the chance. 

He changes clothes quickly, hating the feeling of his uniform sweat-sticky against his skin. He’d normally never dare enter the nest before putting on sleep clothes, but he’s not foolish enough to think the kid would relax so easily seeing Dick get undressed. He knows he can’t have earned trust that rapidly. Despite how much more comfortable his sweatpants and sweater are than his uniform, his omega already mourns the loss of the pup’s scent on his clothes. It won’t be for long though, he knows how desperately new omegas need to be scented during presentation. 

It’s better this way anyway, if Alfred got up early or if Bruce hadn’t gone to bed yet, if he doesn’t smell so distinctly of puppy. 

He finds the stash of heatmilk easily, filling a spare grocery bag with as much as it’ll hold. This will be the gentlest thing on the kid’s stomach until he can handle solid food. It’ll provide the nutrition he so clearly needs while hopefully not making him overly nauseous. It’ll help them bond too, for an older omega to provide the pup milk. It’s instinctual, like how an actual packmate may take care of him. Dick shoves down his incessant hindbrain purring at the idea of packpackpack. The kid isn’t his, no matter how right he may feel in his arms. 

With that in tow, he turns to the rest of the kitchen. It’ll be good to have options, for when the kid is up to real food. He manages to snag some crackers and fruit that won’t spoil outside the fridge before he hears footsteps behind him.

“Good morning, Master Dick,” Alfred greets. Only years of being accidentally snuck up on allows him to suppress his flinch. He doesn’t have the chance to greet him before he asks, “Is there anything you may be in need of assistance with?” 

When he sees the way Alfred eyes the milk in his arms, his mouth just starts moving, even before his brain can catch up. “I started pre-heat, just need to stock up.” There’s no time to regret his obvious lie before Alfred’s eyebrows are shooting up. His nose twitches ever so slightly and Dick quickly remembers to reign in his scent. He’s so fucking stupid. He should have put his collar back on at least, anything to put a barrier between him and the beta. While his nose might not be as good as Bruce’s, he still knows what Dick smells like during pre. 

Dick doesn’t step back, even as Alfred scans him up and down, lingering on his collarless throat. When he opens his mouth, it’s not the reprimand he’s expecting for his blatant lie. “I apologize if I am mistaken, however I was under the impression your cycle was not to begin for another month.”

It’s too late to back out, that would only be more suspicious. He forces himself to keep eye contact, hoping it helps him look more earnest. “Must be stress-induced.” He continues before Alfred has the time to chime in. “I’ll be fine, just need to get back to the nest.” 

He turns then, intent on making his escape when Alfred stops him. He doesn’t touch, knowing how easily overwhelmed Dick can get when his fever starts. “That must be quite the distress upon your omega. If you’ll allow me, I shall finish preparations so that you may rest.” 

His first instinct is to say no, to not allow anyone near the sickly kid he has napping upstairs. But he knows just how suspicious that’ll be, if he suddenly doesn’t crave his packmate’s care. Dick may not be a pup anymore but it’s no secret how needy he can be in his cycle. Suddenly denying Alfred will only cause more doubt of his condition. So he forces his voice even, plasters a grateful sort of smile on his face, and says, “Thanks, Alfie. That would be great.” He’s about to walk away, when he remembers, “If you could, uh, just leave the supplies outside my door. My omega is a bit finicky this time, I don’t wanna y’know, trigger that.” He’s such a fucking idiot. 

It must only be Alfred’s infinite patience and properness that allows him to take his ramblings in stride. “As you wish, Master Dick.” 

Dick is finally able to make his escape then, heatmilk in tow. He’s barely able to close and lock his bedroom door behind him before the pup is mewling, a desperately lonely sort of sound. Instinctively he pushes his scent out further, a silent assurance that he’s here, he’s back, he’s sorry he had to leave. He drops the bag on the floor when the boy’s head shoot’s up, revealing a tear stained face filled unmistakably with betrayal. He whimpers, scent rotten with spoiled milk and burnt cherries. Dick can taste it on his tongue and he has to force the nausea down when he opens his mouth to speak, “I’m here, I’m here.” 

He crawls into the nest when the boy reaches his hands out with a helpless trill. Dick chuffs, a sound he’s never made before but he inexplicably knows its meaning. A reassurance and apology all at once, the type of noise a packmate would make to their puppy. The kid clambers forward even before Dick can decide if a hug would do more harm than good. He clutches onto the older omega, trembling something terrible. No matter how many quiet reassurances Dick gives, the boy won’t stop shaking. “I’ve got you. I just had to get food, I’m back now,” he whispers. He runs his fingers through his hair best he can, leaving trails of honey sweet comfort. 

After several long moments of heaving breaths and fever-hot scenting, the kid manages to whimper out, “You- you said,” he gasps. “You-” he cuts himself off with a sob. Dick pulls him closer, heart clenching at the idea of unwittingly distressing the poor pup so horribly. His ribs tighten at how raspy the kid’s voice is. He can’t help but wonder what he sounds like when he’s well-fed and well-rested.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He pushes his scent out even further, as far as it can go, hoping it shows his genuinity. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I couldn’t let you stay hungry.” Dick takes a deep breath, forcing his own voice not to quake. He shouldn’t be so affected. This child isn’t even his. “I got you milk, it should be easy on your tummy.” He whines again, halfway between putalence and cramping pain. “Here, I’m not going to leave the room. I’m just gonna grab the milk, okay? It’ll be less than a minute.”

He traces his wrist over the kid’s back, smothering him in protective-claiming-hereherehere pheromones. When he's able to catch his breath, Dick makes quick work of snatching the bag off the floor and bounding back into the nest. He was hardly gone a few heaving gasps of air before he’s back and he soothes the boy nonetheless. He hushes his cries and scents away the worst of the burnt fear. “This will help,” he assures. Cradling the boy in his arms, he’s finally able to guide him to drink some milk. The first sip is hesitant, until the sweetness hits his tongue and he’s trying to gulp down the entire carton at once. Dick has to lean the bottle back, keep him from drowning himself. 

“Easy,” he chuckles, surprising himself with the overwhelming fondness in his tone. “I’m not taking it away. Slow down before you choke.” Though he receives a tearful glare for his efforts, the kid does in fact slow down to a more manageable pace. He finishes the carton easily, already reaching for another before Dick scooches the bag away. “Take a break. If you drink too much too fast you’ll only make yourself sick.” He gets that look again, as if he’s betrayed every once of trust he’s managed to earn from the boy. “Here,” he smiles, “I won’t remove any of the food. It’ll be right next to you for when you’re well enough for more.” 

That seems to calm him well enough, allowing the pup to lean more heavily against Dick. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Dick trails a hand over the pup’s back, rubbing away whatever tension he can. He knows it won’t fix everything, but he knows what it’s like to go through heat alone. The first one is always the most torturous and he thinks even with his Robin training that the pain would have killed him if he didn’t have anyone to help him through it. Scenting and cuddles go a long way, especially when the puppy is already missing out on those essential pack monds. 

While no one truly thrives in being alone, omegas are inherently social. An isolated omega is a death sentence, one not even Arkham is allowed to dish out. He can’t imagine the turmoil this kid’s newly forming instincts must be in to only have the comfort of a stranger. As much as Dick caresses his skin and pets his hair, it’s not the same as a real pack member. It’s harder this time, with the boy close enough that his fever is beginning to overheat Dick from the proximity, to shove down his hindbrain thrumming at the idea of pupminepuppypackminemine. He has no right. 

But he’s so sweet, nuzzling into his shirt like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. His face has lost almost all the tension from earlier. His scent is back to milky richness and a bursting sort of cherry ripeness. It’s bright and lovely and Dick can’t help but take deeper breaths to fully enrapture himself in how content the kid seems. He doesn’t want to ruin the peaceful air around them, but he has to know. He has to take advantage of his momentary coherency before heat brain overtakes again. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. When the boy shows no recognition of being spoken to, he trails his hand from his hair to his face. He cradles the cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth under the delicate skin below his eye. “Puppy,” he tries again. This time he earns a lazy sort of hum, the kid now unabashedly leaning into the gentle touch. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s your name?” 

The pup blinks a couple times, mind clearly hazy through the thrums of his fever. “Jason,” he rasps. 

Dick can’t help the beaming grin blooming across his face to finally know what to call him. “Jason,” he repeats, reverent and so very fond. “Oh, Jason, I’ve got you. I won’t let any of those alphas hurt you again.” He starts purring then, such a beautiful sound that Dick matches it in kind. He doesn’t bother ignoring his instincts when they murmur jasonmyjasonmineminemine too busy snuggling him close. 

Dick knows he doesn’t have the best gauge on his own scent, not when his omega is trilling in excitement and he has a happy puppy purring on his chest. But he thinks it takes on a new sort of cadence, something a bit richer lacing beneath the all the sugar. Some repressed sort of memory itches at the back of his brain, something maternal and longing. He doesn’t have time to process what it could mean before there’s a prim knock at the door. 

Jason flinches hard, whimpering as he presses his face more firmly to Dick’s shoulder. He cradles the back of his head, allowing him to hide, while he calls out, “Hello?” Though he knows he locked the door he can’t help but crane his neck to double check. 

“Master Dick, I have the supplies we discussed. I shall leave them beside your door. Is there anything else you may require?” Though Alfred’s voice is nothing less than its proper cadence, Jason seems to only curl in on himself further. 

He scratches gently at his scalp in a way that gets him shuddering and hollers, “Okay, thanks! I don’t think there’s anything else, but I’ll let ya know!” 

“Very well. I will be in the kitchen if you are in need of further assistance.” 

Dick waits until long after Alfred’s steps have faded, ensuring there’s no way he could overhear. He’s thankful, not for the first time, that all the bedrooms in the manor are perfectly scent proof. While there’s no way for Alfred to have smelled puppy heat through the door, he’d still be able to hear their whispered voices if he tried hard enough. 

He doesn’t try to make Jason look at him, knowing that could distress him further. He’s trembling ever so slightly, as if he’s trying not to. Dick’s chest tightens at the sight and he can’t bear let him stay so afraid, not when he can help soothe it. “That was my grandfather, Alfred. He’s a beta.” Jason lets out a shaky sigh and he takes that as a sign to continue. “He won’t hurt you. And if somehow, against all odds, he tried. I wouldn’t let him.” 

You’re mine, is not what he says. That’ll only freak the kid out more, for Dick to suddenly get all possessive. He’s not his pup, and Dick isn’t his dam. They’re not even pack, as much the thought makes his lungs shrivel up like he’s been submerged in water too long. One night with this kid and he can’t imagine letting him go now, leaving him for more knotheads to try to fucking deflower him or something. 

Nope, that’s not a thought he needs to be having. The last thing he needs is for his scent to turn acidic with a vengeful need to hit those bastards harder for daring to put their hands on his pup. He can daydream about revenge later, when Jason is asleep. For now, he keeps his voice a lullaby of comforting purrs, “I won’t let anyone get you. You’re safe here.” 

When Jason finally looks up, his eyes are shiny with restrained tears. He blinks, looking so small in his arms. He licks his lips, and Dick lets him take his time, not wanting to spook him when he’s so clearly fighting against the fog in his brain to speak. “Pluh-” he tries again when he can’t get his tongue to form the right sounds, “Please, don’ leave me.”

“Oh kiddo, no. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures. “I may have to get up at some point to grab whatever Alfred left, but I’m not going to abandon you.” He hopes his scent proves just how honest he is, how fervently he means it. When Jason ducks his head forward again, pressed against the crook of his neck, he fears he screwed up. But then Jason gives him a little nuzzle, and then there’s the tiniest of kitten licks against his gland. It’s a submissive gesture, one a pup would do to show their dedication and affection to a packmate. It’s intimate, familial, and Dick can’t help but hold him closer. He presses a kiss to the top of his head and he doesn’t have time to regret it before Jason nuzzles him again, spreading joyous pheromones through the room. 

Dick doesn’t think he’s ever been so filled with warmth before.

/

Bathing the kid is easier than he would have anticipated. Jason eagerly leans into each and every kind touch, his chest rumbling with purrs when Dick thoroughly and methodically shampoos his hair. He’s careful to ease out each tangle in his hair, ensuring nothing but a painless glide when he runs his fingers through the strands. Jason is practically boneless, eyes closed and mouth lax as the older omega rinses his head and begins on the conditioner. With another dose of pain meds in him, his scent has almost entirely lost that underlying aching bitterness. If it weren’t for the ribs rutting out and boney limbs, he’d seem almost healthy. 

Dick plays with his hair awhile, even when he finishes washing the conditioner out. The kid deserves it, to be able to relax freely. It’s only when the water starts to get a bit too chilly, even against his fever-ridden body, that Dick encourages him to wash himself. Though he willingly cleanses the kid’s back and shoulders, he guides him to do the rest. As comfortable as he seems to be, he knows it could all go out the window if Dick accidentally touches somewhere too sensitive. Jason grumbles a bit, but his scent doesn’t change, so Dick busies himself preparing a new set of clothes. 

He truly doesn’t have much that’ll fit the boy, and it’s not as if he can simply ask Alfred to run out and get children’s clothes. He knows he can’t keep Jason a secret forever, but he’s not going to pretend either of his guardians will be quite fond of the idea of a pup presenting inside the manor. 

It’s not as if Dick could have brought him back to his own apartment though. He wasn’t about to drive all the way to Bludhaven and besides, he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he was the only one looking out for the boy. Even unknowingly, Alfred and Bruce’s presence eases the restless anxiety inside him of possible intruders. His pack won’t let anyone get them. So long as he keeps them out of his business, he should be able to get Jason through his heat just fine. Only then will he introduce the kid to his family, as long as Jason is okay with it. It’s not as if… he’s staying. His ribs have a vice-like hold against his lungs in protest at the mere idea, but he knows that he can not reasonably keep Jason. At least, not unless he wants to be kept. 

He’s not in the right mind for this. He’s already in enough of a grey area by simply bringing him home. Jason is in no way a sound enough mind to consent to pack relations. Familial claiming is a big fucking deal and he can’t just assume, no matter what his inner omega hisses about. 

It seems all energy has been sapped out of the baby omega by the time he finishes washing himself. Dick has to wrap an arm around him to keep him from simply toppling over with the wobbliness of his knees. He helps the kid into the new clothes, the cozy sweater positively drowning his skinny frame. It’s adorable and he must show it on his face because Jason gives him a whiny sort of half-growl. It’s not a real show of aggression or discomfort so Dick doesn’t feel too bad when he brings the pup back to the nest. He’s able to get him to drink another entire carton of heatmilk before he drifts off.

That allows Dick to go clean up, no matter how urgently he feels the need to go coddle the puppy some more. There is relief to be found when he sees no blood on the washcloth Jason used to clean himself. Hopefully meaning that his body is leveling out, and that he may be on the mend. Dick had only bled for a couple days when he presented, but he knows it’s different for everyone. So long as he doesn’t start gushing out between his legs, he should be fine. 

He takes the time to organize their supplies. He needs to get a better idea of what he actually has and what he might need to ask of Alfred, in the least suspicious way possible. The beta had left behind a generously crafted basket of snacks, water bottles, medicine, and other aids he knows greatly assist Dick during the worst of his cycles. Everything from a heating pad to a freshly scented blanket and an instant ice pack. It’s so thoughtful and Dick can’t help but be overwrought with the guilt of this secret. It’s not as if he’s doing anything necessarily wrong. He’s not going to take advantage of the boy, never, never. He’ll do whatever he can to keep him safe and happy, but it still makes him a bit nauseas to know that means keeping him from Bruce and Alfred. 

It’s what needs to happen though. They’ll only crowd him, have a thousand rightful but overwhelming questions that’ll surely make Jason panic. What he needs is to rest while he rides the fever out. Dick is the only one who can guide him through it. So he shoves down the guilt and makes his way back to the nest. 

They’ll have enough to get through the week. If somehow his heat lasts longer than that, they’ll need not just more supplies but probably a doctor. That won’t happen though, no. Dick won’t let it get that bad. 

He’s only just winding down, allowing his brain to grow syrupy slow as sleep overtakes, when there’s a harsh knock against the door. Both of them shoot up and he has to pull Jason to his chest to keep the child from crying out. Alfred doesn’t knock that forcefully. He doesn’t have to ask to know who’s on the other side. “Dick!” Bruce calls out. He doesn’t put any Alpha Voice into his tone but Jason whimpers all the same. He clutches at Dick’s shirt, curling closer to him when Bruce continues, “You didn’t tell me you were in heat.”

He murmurs just low enough that only Jason will hear. “It’s okay, that’s my dad. I know, it’s okay, I got you.” He shouldn’t even be surprised that the pup starts crying, surely getting flashbacks to only the night before. He raises his voice to address Bruce, “It came on suddenly. I didn’t realize until it was about to start.”

Bruce’s voice is firm, thinly veiled frustration, “You know you’re supposed to alert me the second you get symptoms. Did you start pre during patrol?” 

Dick swallows back his growl, too aware of how that would only distress Jason further. He’ll have to give the alpha something to work with or he’ll never leave them alone. “I came back as soon as I recognized the signs. I’m fine.” The pup nuzzles his neck tearfully, pressing his cheek to the glands to scent himself. 

Bruce sighs harsh enough they can hear it through the door. “You tell me right away next time. It’s not safe to be out there like that.” It’s redundant at this point, nothing they haven’t argued about before. Even if Dick were actually in heat, he wouldn’t be helpless. He’s an adult, a vigilante at that, he wouldn’t be so easily conquered. It’s different than Jason, a presentation heat is by far the most intense. He needs this, he’s vulnerable. It’s not the same for Dick. 

“Fine. Will you let me rest now? I'm tired.” He doesn’t have to lie that time. There’s a pause before the alpha agrees, wishing him a good sleep before walking away. He knows there’s more Bruce wanted to say, but there always is. He’s just lucky it didn’t end in another screaming match this time. That would only set Jason off more. He’s already shaking so badly, he doesn’t need any more stress. 

He has to shove down worries that the scent blockers built into the door won’t be enough. That between his heat scent and the rotting fear, Jason’s pheromones will burst through the wood. He already knows that’s not possible, though. If Bruce caught the slightest inkling of puppy, he’d be bursting down the door. 

Bruce can be a lot. He’s definitely not the person Jason needs right now, a big hulking alpha with no knowledge on how to accurately articulate his emotions. He’s not bad. He’s nothing like those monsters who tried to rape the pup. He’s the man who stops that kind of stuff from happening. But he knows it would still be too much, he knows he’d say the wrong thing, ruin whatever progress he’s managed to make with Jason. He’s not cruel, but he can be mean. He always knows just the right thing to break Dick, to reduce him to a quivering weeping mess, like he’s nothing more than the child he first found. 

He tries to pull the boy closer when he chokes on a sob, but he recoils. Jason scrubs roughly at his eyes, and when he lowers his hands there’s a ferocity that wasn’t there before. His face screws up, and for a moment Dick isn’t sure if he’s about to start crying harder or shouting. “You didn’t say you had an alpha.” His scent chars a bit around the edges, giving away his growing anger.

Dick lightens his scent, keeps it sweet and soothing. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. That’s my dad and my pack alpha. I promise, he won’t hurt you. He’s a good man.” 

He’s shaking his head before he even finishes speaking. “Nuh uh, no. Alphas are bad,” he spits the words out, hands trembling as he goes to scratch at his glands. It’s a common issue with presenting pups, itching at the swollen skin in an attempt to ease the ache, but all it does it cause a rash. Dick knows he would have scratched himself bloody and raw if Alfred hadn’t provided him soothing balm. He’ll have to think of a reasonable excuse to ask the beta to get him some more. 

He doesn’t allow any lingering frustration into his voice. It’s not the kid’s fault that Bruce can’t mind his own business. “Alphas are not bad, even if a lot of bad people happen to be alphas.” It’s something Dick too had to learn, relearn even, when it seemed that the vast majority of downright cruel crimes were done by alphas. 

Jason shakes his head hard enough it has to hurt. “No! You’re wrong, they’re bad. They hurt people.” One hand trails higher, while one digs angry red lines into his gland, the other pulls at his hair. Dick has to clench at his pants to keep from reaching out. He can’t risk triggering him further if he tries to force physical comfort. He has to swallow down his own whine when his omega howls at him too loudly to just grab the pup, keep him from hurting himself further. He won’t let him go too far, but it aches all the same. 

He waits for him to quiet down, not wanting to interrupt. “I’m not saying you didn’t get hurt, Jason.” His tone remains even, doesn’t allow himself to show his ever-present vengeful rage at the men who attacked him. “I’m just saying that doesn’t mean Bruce will hurt you next.”

“No, you’re lying. You’re trying to trick me!” He cries out. “You- you’re-” he gasps, desperate and heart-broken. “God, I don’t even know your name!” He breaks into heaving sobs, his whole body convulsing with the force of his distress. He can’t blame him, he’s sure he has to be sensitive with all the new hormones flooding through his system. 

Dick can no longer ignore the itching, persisting, needing instincts inside him to comfort the puppy. His omega is already keening inside him, berating him for waiting so long when his pup is already at panic-attack level anguish. He trills, a comforting noise, and Jason doesn’t hesitate to mewl back. He doesn’t stop clawing at his swollen glands, but Dick sees the invitation for what it is. He still moves carefully, giving the boy enough time to pull away if he changes his mind. Despite his subtle growl, he leans readily into the touch. 

Dick covers his neck with a hand, preventing him from making himself bleed. Jason sobs anew, clutching at the omega’s hand. He doesn’t take the chance to dig his nails in, instead just holding on with a trembling grasp. Jason makes an aborted noise, the words unable to come out past his pained keening. 

Dick pulls him fully into his lap, rocks him side to side. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have told you. My name is Dick Grayson.” He hushes the pained cries ripping from Jason’s throat, forces a purr to ease the tension in his bones. “Bruce and Alfred are the only other people here, there’s no one else. No one will get you. I won’t let them.” 

Jason makes a noise, tries to say something, but he can’t get it out. Dick isn’t sure if he’s growling at himself for his inability to communicate or at the older omega for unintentionally scaring him yet again. He curses himself internally for keeping such vital information from the boy. Of course he’d be upset, Dick practically kidnapped him and brought him to another alpha’s territory. He needs to do better than this.

He doesn’t let his scent show his struggle, not wanting to do anything to set him off further. Dick rubs the pad of his thumb over the worst of the swelling, easing the residual ache from the scent gland. Jason trembles but he doesn’t pull back, with a whimper he actually leans into the touch. It’s a familiarity typically only pack would allow, to touch his most intimate gland, and his omega preens at the proof the pup trusts him enough for this at least. He definitely needs to prove himself further, show that he’ll actually protect him, even from his own family. But for now, it’s enough to soothe the itch.

Jason lets out a shaky sigh, leaning more heavily onto the omega. He’s still quivering, but it’s not as intense anymore. Even if it’s primarily from exhaustion, he’s relaxing all the same. Dick is sure that he’ll be angry again later, sure it’s still simmering below the surface. For now, he’ll relish in the comfort he’s able to bring. He holds him until the increasing cramps are too much, forcing him to sleep before he’s too overcome by pain. Dick lets out a sigh of his own, relief palpable in the quiet of the room.

/

The next few days are a blur of fever haze, crippling cramping, and delirious exhaustion. Jason is far too out of it to argue further, words failing him completely. He’s left to pitiful whines and heartbreaking cries when he needs something, no choice but to trust Dick completely to take care of him. He leans into each touch readily, greedily, desperate for scenting. Any time he’s not preparing food or washing the pup clean of sweat, he spends it cuddling him. He rubs his wrist over his back, finger combs his hair, cradles him in his arms. 

It’s as peaceful as it can get during a first heat, before it all goes to shit.

Jason awakens from a nightmare semi-coherent and pissed at the world. Dick can’t get close enough to ease his terrified shaking without being hissed at. He’s finally lucid enough to make sense of what’s happening around him, but he’s too overwhelmed to actually say what’s wrong. Dick can imagine, there’s plenty of traumatic reasons that would lead to a pup being on his own during presentation. He tries his best to comfort him, but it’s hard when Jason won’t stop growling. He’s caught between drawing towards the older omega’s sweet scent and pulling away from his touch. Needing to be soothed but not allowing himself.

Dick hates the helplessness more than anything. He can’t help his own trill, trying to goad the boy closer. If he could just scent him he could rid him of the sour fear the nightmare left in its wake. He’s grown far too accustomed throughout the week to being able to help the pup relatively easily, so this sudden resistance leaves him reeling. In the worst of the fever, he was so complacent to his care. He drank his milk and leaned into the snuggles so nicely. Ever a good boy, and Dick wants nothing more than to ease the burden once again. 

Jason isn’t crying, but it’s a close thing. When Dick steps closer, he makes a sound halfway between a snarl and a wail, the baby omega clearly not knowing what he wants. “Let me help you, puppy. I can make it better.” He says, a little too desperately.

“No,” Jason whimpers, “no, no, please.” Dick isn’t sure if even he knows what he’s asking for. He could scruff him, force him to submit to the care he yearns to give, but he knows that could just make it worse later. If he forces that helpless bonelessness a scruffing brings, it’ll only make it that much harder to settle him later. He doesn’t want to force him if he doesn’t have to, wants Jason to want this too. 

He tries again to get closer, only for Jason to snarl again. They’re too loud. The room overloaded with burning pheromones and ragged breathing. Dick doesn’t hear anyone approaching the door until Bruce is shouting, “What was that? Is someone in there with you?”

Jason freezes, eyes wide and terrified. His scent curdles more, hands already trembling at just the sound of the alpha. Dick risks stepping forward, closes the distance between them when Jason lets out an uncontainable whimper at Bruce’s sharp knock. “No, no one’s here. It’s just the tv.” He says, because he’s an idiot. And he’s horrible at lying when he’s too distracted bundling the pup in his arms. 

All that bubbling anger seeps away, leaving only a frightened trembling puppy. He clutches at his shirt, pulling Dick closer, staring up at him with watery eyes. He looks sorry and Dick desperately wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to apologize, that it’s not his fault. It’s Dick’s. He should have kept his emotions in check. He’s not the one in heat, he’s not the child, he needs to be sensible. 

“Dick, I know when you’re lying. Open the door.” While he doesn’t necessarily growl, there’s an edge to his voice that demands his obedience. The pupish instincts he hasn’t quite grown out of are howling at him to listen to the alpha and be good. But his omega is stronger and he can’t dare do something that’ll distress Jason more. His hindbrain has its hackles raised and ready to protectprotectprotect. Jason isn’t ready to meet Bruce, not when he’s already so scared. Not when the alpha is angry. 

“It’s just a rough heat. I’ll be okay, I just need more rest.”

He doesn't take the bait. “Either you open this door or I will.”

He has to hide Jason. He can’t smother his scent but he can at least shelter him. Give him a few more moments of peace before the alpha ruins it. Bruce is nothing if not persistent. “I told you I’m fine. Leave me alone.” For a second he fears his dad will kick the door down, and then he hears the click. He really should have expected him to have a spare key. There’s not enough time to herd the pup into the bathroom, lock him in. 

Bruce whips the door open and Dick outright roars. He pulls Jason behind him, the pup latching onto the back of his shirt. He keeps one hand on the boy, the other ready, his little omegan claws out and ready to defend his puppy. “What is this?” Bruce demands, and it really is a growl this time. “Who is that?” He steps forward, unbothered by Dick’s ferocious snarls. 

He pauses, sniffling the air more closely before hissing, “You’re not the one in heat.” His pheromones are filling the room already, competing with heat scent and overwhelming any sort of soothing honey-comfort Dick may have had. 

“Get out,” he demands. “You’re not welcome in my den.” Even if Jason weren’t here, he wouldn’t be thrilled to have the pack alpha near his nest. As it is, with a terrified puppy clinging to his back, he’s near feral with the protective-possessive-puppyminemypackmypuppy inside him. 

Bruce dares a step closer, scent thundering out of him. “You’re in my territory, pup.” He spits the word out, pointed and cruel. It’s everything Dick has always hated about the man. The moment shit goes down, he’s back to treating Dick like nothing more than the grief-frail child he first met. 

“It’s my nest. Get the fuck out.” He’s sure his hold on Jason is just shy of painful, but he only leans closer. The remaining distress from his nightmare is gone, any misguided anger towards Dick vanished with the whining need to be protected. Dick feels it too, his omega clutching onto the baby and refusing to let go. The pup is his and not even Bruce can take him away. He won’t let him. 

Bruce dares to look at Jason, who must be peeking out from behind Dick. His eyes narrow, voice steely when he says, “He imprinted on you.” Something in Dick’s expression must give away his shock because he didn’t realize what it was until he said it. It makes sense, this desperate yearning to put a claim on the boy, the separation anxiety, the howling instincts inside him saying the pup is mineminemine. “How reckless could you be?! You can’t take care of a pup, you can barely take care of yourself. He needs to go to a center.”

“You are not taking him away from me.” He may not have his suit on, but he can fight just as well. Even without armor to protect him, he’ll do whatever it takes. His escrima sticks are just on the other side of the room. He could make it. But that would leave Jason defenseless. He won’t leave his side, even if it means he’s weaponless. That’s alright, he can hold his own. Everyone has always said there’s nothing more ferocious than an omega protecting a threatened pup. Dick won’t hesitate. 

“You’re not in charge here.” There’s something to his voice, something hiding beneath the rage. Dick’s eyes narrow, and then he knows just how to fight. How to win. 

“If you try to take him, we’ll leave, and I’ll never come back.” There’s no shakiness to his voice. There’s no weakness to be found, Dick knows just what to say to get the alpha folding. Before he can think of a protest, he mentally reaches for the bond between them, that instinctive string tethering them as packmates. He reaches and when his subconscious catches it, he tugs. Bruce’s eyes widen and he knows he feels it. Dick could break it right there, sever their connection as pack members. If he’s leaving, he’ll take it all with him. 

They stare each other down for a moment, Bruce surely searching for any hesitance, anything he could exploit. Dick tugs harder on their bond, feels the way it strains, the threads beginning to wither. Bruce shudders minutely, almost imperceptibly. He heaves a horrible sigh, and says, “This is a mistake. Do the pup a favor and break the bond before the imprint settles.” He turns and slams the door behind him before Dick could do something foolish, like go for the jugular. 

He waits only one shallow breath before he rushes forward, towing Jason along with him. He relocks the door before dragging his dresser in front of it. It won’t be enough to stop Bruce completely, if he dares come back. But it’ll at least give him a few precious moments to properly stow away his pup. They can’t stay there. It’s too dangerous to leave when he’s still in heat, but as soon as it’s over, they’ll be gone. He’ll get a new apartment, one Bruce won’t have access to. He’ll get a new territory, just for him and his puppy. They’ll make a new nest, untouched by any alpha. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep the boy safe, protected, happy. 

Now that he has a name for it, he knows Bruce is right. This is a proper imprinting. An inherent familial bond between pup and caretaker. This time, when he reaches, instead of finding his pack alpha, he finds Jason. His sweet baby omega, bound to him. Their instincts intertwined, making them pack. As soon as this is over, the fever gone, he’ll cut Bruce off. Anyone who dares threaten his pup, threatens him to leave his pup, has to go. He’ll break their bond, ensure there’s no connection between Jason and him. Despite Dick being pack with Bruce, that doesn’t inherently make Jason part of the alpha’s pack. Imprinting doesn’t work that way, not how most bonding goes. It’s directly between the pup and the person they attach to, intertwining the two omegas together. 

It’s been less than a week since this all began, not long enough for an imprint to settle completely, but once it does, it’s permanent. They’ll forever be bonded as familial pack members. The only way to stop it would be for Dick to leave him, which would almost definitely cause a drop. Drops are always incredibly dangerous, no matter the dynamic, but especially for pups. If Dick leaves him, especially without someone else to step in as his caretaker, it could be fatal. On top of his pre-existing malnutrition, it would be a death sentence. Even if he didn’t know about the imprint he wouldn’t be able to. 

It’s cruel of Bruce to even ask, let alone demand he abandon the pup. He knows what it could entail, he saw it firsthand when Dick imprinted on him all those years ago. He wasn’t expected to ditch Dick, so how dare he try to force him to leave Jason. He won’t do it, even if it means he loses his alpha, his dad. It doesn’t matter. What matters is keeping Jason safe. 

Besides, Dick isn’t that same kid anymore. He now has the power and ability to break from the pack, to free himself of all of Bruce’s rules and expectations. Now, he finally has a reason to.

He shoves his desk in front of the door as well, just for good measure. It’s not a proper blockade, but that’s okay. He can make it work. When he’s finally able to turn his full attention back to Jason, he’s already crying. “‘M sorry,” he blubbers, “it’s all my fault, ‘m so sorry.” 

Dick won’t stand for it, him blaming himself when he did nothing wrong. He was confused and scared, it’s not as if he wanted Bruce to catch them. He’s a puppy, it’s Dick’s job to take care of him. He places a hand on his nape, not enough pressure to scruff but just enough to settle the worst of his unease. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” 

Jason shakes his head, tears slipping down his face. “But, but I-”

He presses their foreheads together, quieting his protests. “No, Jason. You did nothing wrong. I’m so happy you imprinted on me.” He doesn’t even need to force his scent earnest, it’s already sweetened up so nicely. “I won’t let him take you away. You’re mine. My puppy.”

Jason’s purrs stutter in his chest, but it’s just as beautiful a sound. Dick holds him close, kisses his temple when he leans into the embrace. There’s still so much to do, but they have time. A couple days until the heat should end, and until then, Dick has him. He won’t let anything happen. Won’t let Bruce ruin this too. He’ll figure it all out. For now, though, all he has to worry about is scenting him, keeping him safe in his arms.