Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A sharp knock jarred Tim from his sleep roughly, he flipped over towards his door, blinking bleary eyes at it as he shook off the fog of his dreams.

“Hello?” He called, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Timothy? Breakfast is going to be ready soon.” A voice answered from the other side. His little brother. Tim huffed, rolling over onto his back. Lately, bit by bit, Damian was becoming extremely invested in Tim and his well-being. He had pretty much unilaterally declared himself as the manager of Tim’s Styers syndrome diagnosis, staying on top of Tim’s health like a tiny Army General. He had even tried to start a symptom journal, but Tim had shut that down quick, although he was unsure if Damian really stopped doing it or if he just got sneakier. Tim was trying to be patient; he knew Damian was presenting soon, and those little baby alpha instincts were going to be more out of control than ever right now. However, something was going to have to change soon, as it was getting extremely frustrating.

“I’m not eating breakfast, Dami. I’ll have lunch,” Tim called back through the door. There was a long silence.

“….um. May I come in? I brought you tea.”

Tim sighed. “Thank you! You can leave it outside the door.” There was no reply, but Tim could see his feet under the door just standing there, waiting, bouncing with anxiety. “Okay, whatever. You can come in,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Damian pushed the door open, coming to Tim’s bedside as he sat up, carrying a small teacup on a plate. He set it on Tim’s nightstand.

“You should let that cool. It’s hot, and it will taste better,” his little brother said, twisting his fingers.

“Thank you. What is it?”

Damian made a face. “It’s an English breakfast. Pennyworth made it.” Damian and Alfred did not often share opinions on their teas. Damian’s ire made Tim smirk.

“I’m sure it’ll be good,” he said, yawning. “My throat is kind of sore.” Tim realized his mistake instantly, as Damian knitted his eyebrows and stepped closer to him.

“You’re not sick, are you? Do you have a fever? Can I check?” Damian started coming at him with his hand, and Tim stuck his arms up, blocking Damian and grabbing his wrist.

“Hey! I’m not sick. You can check, I don’t mind, but you need to wait for me to answer, don’t just come at me.” He let go of Damian’s wrist, bringing his arms down and leaning forward so Damian could reach him more easily. The blanket fell down around his waist.

Damian clicked his teeth, but apologized, barely audible. He pressed his hand into Tim’s forehead, seemingly agreeing that he was fever-free as he pulled away with a small nod. His eyes seemed to be inexplicably drawn to Tim’s chest, locked in.

Tim fought not to roll his eyes. His chest had barely changed visibly, just slightly more breast tissue than he had had before presenting. It looked more like small pecs than anything else. Still, lately, any time he wasn’t wearing a shirt, Damian had very little ability to hide his desire to nurse. Tim was being very lenient about it, mainly because Damian was just about to present, and although he would still technically be a puppy until eighteen, his desires around nursing would change. Unpresented puppies were hardwired to crave omega milk near constantly when it was available to them, an evolutionary trait meant to make bonds so deep that a pack would never consider abandoning their pup. Most adults and post-presentation puppies still enjoyed nursing, but it was different, it felt similar to pack cuddles or scenting, just deeper, more intense. Damian seemed to want it a lot more than before lately, maybe because his body knew things were changing, or maybe because Tim had been careful to make it clear that he didn’t mind.

Tim also liked to do it, it was one of the few things he actually liked about being an omega, although it was very emotionally intense for him. It made him feel extremely connected to the packmate he was nursing, and it made their bond hypersensitive while it strengthened, almost like being able to read their every thought and emotion. It had gotten easier, and he hadn’t been moved to tears again since nursing Jason.

“Do you want to nurse?” He asked, sighing.

Damian jumped, startled out of his fog, eyes snapping up to him guiltily. “Huh?”

Tim took the tea off his nightstand and tried a sip. Still too hot. “You’re staring.”

Damian flushed. “Oh, no, I’m fine. You don’t have to. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Nah, we can, if you’re fast about it. I don’t mind, it’ll wake me up anyway. Just let me get some pants on real quick.”

Damian nodded, still seeming embarrassed. He hated actually asking for any kind of pack-related comfort, especially physical. Tim understood that anxiety on a deeper level than most, so when he could tell Damian wanted something he usually tried to offer it himself, so Damian wouldn’t have to ask. Take the guess work out of it for the boy.

Tim climbed out of bed, went to his dresser, and pulled on a pair of sweats. As he passed by his bedroom door he pulled it closed. Nursing was very vulnerable for him and he preferred to do it in private, or in a pack nest if someone really needed the comfort.

When he turned back to Damian, he was sitting in Tim’s bed, fidgeting with his fingers and the cuffs of his sleeves. Tim smiled softly, he absolutely loved moments where he could look at his little brother and remember how young he actually was, especially with his insistence on acting so damn grown all the time. Tim came to the bed, propping pillows up against his headboard and then sitting by his brother, slightly propped up against them.

“Alright, C’mere. Just for a few minutes,” Tim encouraged, opening his arms.

Damian nodded, but he didn’t climb into Tim’s arms like he half expected him to. Damian still wasn’t real big on being held, if it wasn’t something someone needed from him. Tim wondered why, sometimes, but Dami had his secrets, just like the rest of them. Instead, he lay by Tim’s side, bringing only his head up to rest on Tim’s chest but still pressing close.

“Can I play with your hair?” Tim asked quietly. He liked physical contact when nursing, it helped keep him grounded.

Damian nodded, and Tim gently guided his head, allowing him to latch.

Tim sighed as the familiar flood of endorphins and dopamine hit him, running fingers through his little brother’s hair. He had been wrong when he said this would help him wake up, because he could feel his eyes growing heavy again. He reached for the tea at his bedside, careful not to move too much as he sipped it. It was good, cleared his brain some. He put the cup back on the nightstand and went back to stroking Damian’s hair. His hand wandered a bit, moving down the side of Damian’s face, and Damian shifted, suddenly opening up their bond more. Tim was honestly surprised by the amount of anxiety he felt there.

Tim chirped gently, making soothing little noises at Damian, who suddenly felt more like Tim’s pup than he had in a couple of weeks. He could feel the anxiety melting, being replaced by soothed contentment, and he let Damian nurse longer than he had planned on. Finally, he pulled him off.

Damian blinked at him, clearly a little milk drunk, and Tim smiled. He wasn’t entirely sure how many more times he would see Damian like this. People tended to stop getting milk drunk once they presented. They stayed like that for a moment, Tim softly cradling Damian’s face and stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. He was shocked that his brother was letting him do this for so long.

“Sorry, Dami. We should get up. Didn’t you say there was breakfast? You should have some real food,” Tim said finally, breaking the silence.

Just like that, the haze that had settled over Damian was gone. The almost alpha was back, the young puppy chased away. Damian pulled his face out of Tim’s hands, sitting up and facing away from him.

“I came to convince you to eat, not suckle at your breast like a whelp,” he said, flatly, obviously frustrated with himself.

Tim sighed, stretching and climbing out of bed, the moment broken. He crossed to his closet, grabbing a sweater to pull on. “I told you, I’m not eating breakfast. It makes me too sick to eat first thing after I wake up. I’ll have lunch and dinner.”

“You need to eat three times a day.”

“Technically, Leslie said two.”

“Richard says she said that you can’t train if you eat less than twice, not that you only have to eat twice,” Damian insisted, collecting Tim’s discarded teacup and saucer and following him out of his bedroom door and into the hallway.

“Well, since when does Dick ever even know what he’s talking about?” Tim didn’t mean it. He knew Dick was smart, knew Dick and Damian were technically right, but this was too much. Damian was being too overbearing. He needed some control back.

Damian clicked his teeth, not bothering to dignify that with a response as they came down the stairs. “Can you not take the medicine she gave you for nausea, if it really makes you so sick? That would be the sensible thing to do, instead of skipping, would it not?”

Bruce was at the foot of the stairs, like Tim’s knight in shining armor.

“B, Damian is trying to bully me into eating breakfast again. Tell him to knock it off,” Tim said, tattling without a shred of remorse. Bruce just raised an eyebrow.

“Damian, you’re not your brother’s boss, I know you’re trying to help him, but dial it down. Tim, why don’t you drink one of your shakes, please?”

Tim’s mouth dropped open. Fucking traitor. He should’ve known. “Fine,” he spat, argument making him almost as sick as just eating would have.

Damian pushed past him, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he carried the teacup to the kitchen.

Tim scoffed.

“Tim, be gentle with him. He just cares,” Bruce said, softly.

“B, don’t push me. You have no idea how tolerant I’m being.” Tim said, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

Bruce raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I hear you. Seriously though, drink a shake.”

“Fine. If I throw up, I’m suing you.” As Tim stomped to the kitchen, he realized that he really did kind of feel like eating more than he felt like drinking a shake, which was infuriating. Of course, he’d have to let Damian be right. He came into the kitchen, grumbling and annoyed, and grabbed a small plate. Damian’s eyes lit up from the breakfast bar and he sat straighter, staring daggers into Tim’s back. When Tim pulled an orange from the crisper in the fridge, setting it on his plate, Damian scoffed. Tim ignored him, brought the orange to the breakfast bar, and sat down.

“That’s not enough,” Damian piped up, “if that’s all you’re going to eat, you should have a shake too.”

“Nope, it’s enough,” Tim said, resolutely, brushing his brother off. Apparently, he’d decided to steal a page from Tim’s book and resort to tattling, because he immediately turned to Alfred.

“Pennyworth, if Timothy is having breakfast, is an orange enough, or does he need a shake too?” Tim rolled his eyes, watching as the butler consulted the chart Leslie had sent that hung on the side of the fridge, loudly declaring his shame in being unable to manage his own meals to the whole family.

“An orange is enough, for Tim,” Alfred said, sending Tim a warm and encouraging smile, probably just happy he was eating breakfast for the first time in days.

Tim went to shoot a smirk at Damian, pleased that the tides had turned in his favor this time, but found his brother hunched in on himself, eyes clouded with doubt and worry. Tim remembered how strong his brother's anxiety had felt when he was nursing. He sighed. If there was an easy way to indulge Damian’s instincts, he might have to take it, save his brother from this suffering.

“Can you peel my orange for me?” He asked, softly, sliding his plate to Damian and trying to shake off the embarrassment of asking for help with such a menial task.

It was worth it to see the way Damian’s spine straightened, his shoulders falling to their normal spot, no longer hunched up by his ears, the way his face smoothed over as he lifted the orange gently, starting to peel it with reverence. “Yes, of course.”

The Damian who would’ve made fun of him, spat in his face, or declared him incompetent for needing help was gone, in his place a tiny protector, and for some reason, that made Tim feel a little emotional. He was probably just tired. He turned to Alfred, meeting the butler's kind eyes and gentle knowing smile. Tim asked if he could have more tea, and Alfred hastened to make it for him, Damian sliding his orange back over to him, perfectly peeled.

“Thank you, Dami.” Tim’s voice was soft, grateful.

Damian nodded, turning back to his breakfast, instincts soothed for the time being. They had a very nice, if quiet, breakfast, Damian no longer needling him. When Tim got up to grab a second orange, Damian’s face lit up, taking it and peeling it without Tim even having to ask.

When he was done with his second orange, Tim dumped the peels into the bag for Alfred’s compost, carrying his plate and teacup to the sink and handing them to the man. He stretched, finally feeling more awake, and came back into the dining half of the kitchen where Damian was. As he started to walk to the doors leading out to the main house, Damian stopped him.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked, anxiously following behind him like a little bird. A Robin, perhaps.

“I’m taking a shower? Sorry, but you can’t follow me in there and micromanage that,” Tim teased, ruffling his brother’s hair. Damian batted his hand away, face creasing with anxiety.

“No, you can’t do that,” Damian insisted, tugging on his arm.

“I have to.” Tim rolled his eyes, trying to yank his arm from Damian’s grip.

“No! What if you get dizzy in the shower and fall? You just started your shot, and I read on the side effects that could happen. You can’t shower in your room, alone! Father is in his room. What if you showered there?” Damian insisted, refusing to be shaken off. Huh, so Damian could try to micromanage his showers. Good to know. He wasn’t in the mood to fight about it, he just wanted to get clean.

“Sure, if it would really make you feel better. But you’re not coming. Go draw or something, I’ve gotta get my soap and things,” Tim said, finally tugging his arm away from Damian.

Damian’s eyes went wide. “No! You can’t use your soaps. Use mine,” he insisted, and that was just too much for Tim.

“Damian, wanting me to smell like you that much is too far, dude. Save it for a mate, not your brother,” he groused, as he started climbing the stairs.

“Noo, it isn’t that! It’s just, when you shower with your soaps, you smell like nothing, and that’s wrong and I hate it!”

Damian wasn’t wrong, technically. Tim still showered with the soaps he had used his entire childhood, that his parents had used. They were some of the strongest scent-neutralizing products on the planet. He wasn’t sure why he still did it, he didn’t like them much either.

“Okay, fine. I’ll use some of the guest room soap. Would that make you happy?” He asked his little brother.

Damian seemed to melt in relief. “Yes.”

“Okay, I will. Go find someone else to bother until I’m done with my shower, I’m sure the dogs would love the company, or the cat is probably around here somewhere.” Damian sulked off to his room, and Tim felt slightly guilty, but still. Enough was enough, and he was not going to have the boy sitting in Bruce’s room listening in while he took a shower. He needed some space.

He collected the soaps from the cabinet where they kept bathroom products and sheets for guests, then on to his room where he grabbed some fresh clothes and a towel. Finally, he went to Bruce’s door, hovering, anxious to knock. Suddenly, caving to Damian’s demands felt stupid. Somehow, though, Bruce sensed someone at the door, calling him in. Too late now. Tim pushed the door open. Bruce was sitting in his armchair, tapping away on an iPad with a cup of coffee next to him, his reading glasses balanced on his nose. The sight made Tim feel warm, safe. His dad was here.

“Hey, I need a shower and Damian is convinced I’m gonna pass out and brain myself if I do it in my room. Can I borrow yours?” Tim asked, sheepishly.

Bruce laughed, a rare sight, although it was becoming more common. “Yes, of course. You’re a good brother, Tim. It won’t be like this forever, I promise. I’ll listen out for any dramatic crashing,” he teased, gesturing towards his bathroom.

When Tim gratefully stepped into the room, Bruce’s eyes locked in on the bath products bundled in his arms. “Are those what you’re going to use?” He asked with enthusiasm.

Tim hesitated. “Uh, yeah, Dami says mine don’t smell right. I take it he wasn’t alone in that assessment.”

Bruce had the grace to look sheepish. “They’re fine, just…chemically. And it’s hard to get scent to stick on you after you shower for a few hours,” he said, wincing.

“Well, I’ll change them next time we go to the store. I don’t know why I was still using them, to be honest,” Tim told his dad.

“It’s alright, Tim. They were a piece of your parents. But I’d be more than happy to help you pick something new, if you’re ready.”

Tim smiled at his dad, brushing off a rising wave of emotion for the second time that day. “Yeah, that would be nice,” he said, before finally stepping into the bathroom. He didn’t really mind the excuse to use Bruce’s big, luxurious shower, if he was being honest with himself. It got the best water pressure in the house, and was so spacious, with a nice bench for him to sit where he could still be under the water. He stayed in for way too long, perhaps. Just basking in the feeling of the warm water cascading over his skin. He looked like a prune when he got out, skin slightly pink from the temperature of the water, too, but he could admit that he enjoyed the way he smelled far more than he usually did getting out of the shower. It was certainly time for the soaps of his youth to go.

He redressed, carrying his dirty clothes and towel back out into Bruce’s room with him. The man was gone, but that was fine, it had been a long shower, and what Damian didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Tim had been sitting for most of the shower anyway. He sent his clothes down the laundry chute, feeling slightly guilty that he had only worn them for a couple of hours, but he hated wearing dirty things after a shower, and he knew Alfred didn’t mind.

Tim came down into the parlor, trying to track his father down so he could thank him for letting him use his shower, but instead, he found his older brother, Dick, standing near the foot of the stairs.

“Dick!” He called, running down to greet him. He was excited, he hadn’t been expecting him today. He wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, as Dick ruffled his hair.

“Hey, baby bird!! New soap? You smell nice,” Dick said, brightly.

Tim pulled away, rolling his eyes. “Did everyone hate my soap?”

Dick winced. “Yes. Very much so.”

Tim laughed. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me. This is just from the guest closet, but yes, I’m gonna get new soap.”

“Hey, we were just being nice, we thought you were attached or something!” Dick teased. Just then, Bruce stepped out of the kitchen, coming towards them with a mug.

“Oh, Tim, you’re out. I’m sorry. I stepped out to get a second cup of coffee, and your brother was here. I got distracted talking to him. Did you have a nice shower?”

Dick looked slightly concerned then, pulling back to examine Tim, as though making sure he was okay. Tim snorted.

“It’s fine, B. I didn’t really need a babysitter. Damian was just being a freak. It was a great shower, though.” He leaned into his dad’s side slightly, and Bruce brought a hand up, scenting the back of his neck and down his spine.

“Not a freak, just…overprotective,” Bruce clarified, and Dick seemed to relax then, laughing and shooting Tim a toothy grin.

“Speaking of the little guy, do you know where he is? I’m here to get him, he’s supposed to come to Bludhaven today so we can talk about some alpha stuff, but Bruce and I couldn’t find him.”

Tim tried not to be hurt that Damian and Dick were hanging out without him, knew their alone time together was important to both of them and that his alone time with Dick was honestly essential, so he should give Damian the same grace. Plus, he just wasn’t all that interested in learning about being an alpha, it just didn’t apply. “Last I saw him, he was going off to his room to sulk because I wouldn’t let him babysit me in the shower. He could be hiding in one of the parlors or libraries though.”

“Yeah, we checked his room, and the cave, I guess we’ll start looking everywhere else. Let him know I’m here if you see him,” Dick said giving Tim a final hug.

“Will do. Good to see you!” As Bruce and Dick resumed their search, Tim turned, heading back up the stairs. He had some work to get done before lunch, and he planned to do it hunkered down in his room. As he walked the upstairs hallway, he kept his eyes peeled for Damian, peeking into a couple of rooms. He didn’t see him. Maybe he had hurt the boy's feelings more than he thought, Tim considered with a sigh as he pushed his door open, feeling bad.

Those thoughts instantly left his head, because there, curled in his bed, fast asleep and wrapped in his blanket, was Damian. Tim was instantly annoyed. He had NOT given the boy permission to go into his room, especially not to take a nap in his bed. That was completely against their boundaries, and Damian knew it. He stalked forward, planning on shaking Damian awake and giving him a piece of his mind, but when he drew close, he froze.

A wall of scent hit him, making Damian’s behavior that day suddenly make perfect sense.

Rut. Damian was presenting.

Tim tried to slink away quietly, to go get Bruce or Dick, make them deal with it, but the back of his heel hit his nightstand, and Damian’s eyes snapped open, locking on Tim. He reached out, grabbing Tim’s arm and yanking him close before sinking his teeth into Tim’s neck, hard. The room started to spin as Tim’s knees instantly buckled and he collapsed onto the floor.

Chapter Text

The intruder was in a crumbled heap on the floor, moaning lightly, and Damian was too scared to peek over the edge of the bed and see who it was.

Just why did they have to come for him now? He thought he would be safe in his omega’s bed, even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, and they still found him. He was going to have to hurt them when they came to enough to move again and he didn’t want to hurt anyone, not anymore.

That’s probably why they had been sent. Now that they knew he was an alpha, they were going to drag him back to his grandfather, and his pack was going to be disposed of.

Damian whimpered mournfully. Everything hurt and he was hot and he was so, so scared and his pack was probably dead, probably killed by this intruder who was coming to drag him back and he couldn’t go back.

He couldn’t go back.

He couldn’t.

He would have to kill the intruder, and maybe, if his pack were still alive, they would forgive him. Would understand that he couldn’t go back to living like that, to being hurt, not when he had a pack that loved him. Not when he knew what that was like.

He peered over the edge, and let out a surprised squeak. The intruder wasn’t an intruder at all! It was his omega.

Thank God, his omega was here, his omega would protect Damian and- no. He wasn’t a puppy anymore. He was an alpha, and that meant that he needed to protect his omega.

Grandfather had passed up his omega once, but he wouldn’t do that again, not once he realized how special he was. Damian couldn’t let that happen, no matter how scared he was. He was an alpha, a protector, and he would protect.

He leaned over the edge of the bed, putting his hands under his omega’s armpits and half tugging, half dragging him into the bed. His omega was light, why was he so light, that wasn’t good, right? He should be too heavy for Damian to haul up like this, and he didn’t like that he wasn’t.

Once he had his omega sprawled out in the bed, he realized that he was pretty out of it, eyes pressed closed and body lax. Damian’s scared little yips didn’t bring his omega back, and Damian felt so bad. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, he just hadn’t recognized him, and why did he smell so different? Damian rubbed his wrists over his omega everywhere, trying to rectify this situation, and when he pulled his wrist back, it was sticky with blood.

Oh no, he’d really hurt his omega, his omega was bleeding, he was bleeding a lot, and Damian didn’t know how to stop it. He pulled the omega’s blanket down with the non-bloodied hand and bunched it at the foot of the bed so it wouldn’t get dirty, knew his omega wouldn’t like that, and he pressed hands to his neck, trying to make the bleeding stop.

His omega's eyes blinked open, and for just a moment, they were filled with terror, and Damian did that, Damian put that there. He whined, distraught, and his omega seemed to realize that he wasn’t a threat.

Still, his omega tilted his head back, keening loudly, and what was he doing, he had to stop, his grandfather’s men were going to find them, and they were going to hurt them, and Damian already hurt so bad, he couldn’t be hurt more, and his omega had never even been hurt like that, didn’t know how bad it could be, and he needed to stop making that noise right now but instead he did it again and how could he get him to stop-

”Oh fuck, oh shit, B, I found them.”

intruder.

Damian raised up, making himself look as big as possible before leaning low over his omega, snarling and growling at the intruder. His scent was screaming go AWAY, scared, omega, will protect, mine-

And suddenly there was a second intruder at the door, and Damian growled as loud and as hard as he could, ready to go down protecting his omega, because one thing was certain, he would not let his grandfather hurt his pack.

/|\ ^._.^ /|\

”Hey, hey! Damian, baby, it’s me. Calm down. You’re okay, no one is going to hurt you.” Dick tried to soothe, but he could tell he was getting nowhere. Damian just stared out at them with empty eyes, hunched over Tim, who wouldn’t stop keening and crying, and obviously wasn’t in his right mind either. The scent of rut and terrified baby alpha covered the room, and god, it was so awful, Dick didn’t know what to do.

“Son.” Bruce rumbled from behind him, and Damian seemed to pause for a moment, the growling cutting down as he tilted his head. Dick jabbed Bruce with an elbow, hoping to encourage him to keep going. “It’s us, Damian. Bruce and Dick. We’re your pack, we mean you no harm. We just want to help.”

”Alpha?” Damian said, and it came out so scared, so hopeful, that Dick could bawl.

”Yes, son. It’s me. I’m here. You’re okay.”

”They’re coming,” he cried, “you have to hide. They’re going to hurt you.”

“No one is coming,” Bruce promised, his voice strong and reassuring.

“No, they are, they are coming. My grandfather’s men. They want to take me, take me and hurt me again, I’ve been bad.” Damian sniffled and then started to wail.

Dick felt sick. After Jason had clued them in, they’d been able to get Damian to admit that he had been hurt by his former alpha, his grandfather, and by other high-ranking members of the league, but he wouldn’t say how, or for what. Dick had had his suspicions that it involved punishments for “caving to primal instincts” and engaging in pack behaviors, like Tim, because that’s what Jason seemed to assume. Damian hadn’t thought that it would cause issues with presenting, but obviously, he had been wrong. Dick had been planning on trying to get him to open up more today. Obviously, he was too late.

“No one is going to hurt you, Damian. I promise. I will protect you, you, and Tim. You’re doing a very good job, keeping your brother safe, and I appreciate that, but you don’t need to do it alone,” Bruce promised, taking small steps closer to Damian as he spoke.

When Damian caught on, he growled again, weak and pitiful this time. “Stay there,” he begged.

Bruce froze. He turned to Dick. “Get the sedatives ready, just in case,” he said, lowly, quiet enough that only Dick would hear.

Bruce really, really didn’t want to sedate his son, but when he’d discussed the possibility of his presentation causing issues with Leslie, he’d been told that some traumatized alphas who had been abused were so worked up during their presentation that they needed to be sedated for at least the first wave, if not the first few, or they’d just get more and more agitated until they were a danger not only to themselves but to everyone else. She’d offered to come and do it herself, but if Bruce had to do it, he wanted it to be him. He wouldn’t do it unless they couldn’t get close enough to check on Tim any other way, or if Damian got worse.

Dick left the room, and Damian whimpered brokenly, caught between feeling relieved at fewer alphas other than himself in the room or missing the protection.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be fine. Your brother is going to come right back,” Bruce assured gently. “I hear you that you don’t want me to come any closer. I am listening. But your omega, he’s very scared, and he’s calling for me. Do you think I could check on him?” Bruce snuck a glance at Tim, who had stopped keening, obviously upset his calls were going unanswered, and just lay there crying now. Considering Tim’s abandonment issues, this was not ideal.

Damian looked down at Tim, and his face creased in worry. “I have to keep him safe,” he said, insistent.

“I am safe, I promise,” Bruce assured, holding out his wrist and trying hard to project his scent enough for Damian to be able to smell it over the scent of their terror, of his own rut. “I promise I will not hurt you, or your omega.”

“He’s already hurt,” Damian whimpered, and Bruce’s eyes flicked to Tim. He had clocked the blood on Damian’s face, his hands, but he wasn’t sure how bad it was. He could see that Tim had smeared blood all over his neck, though, and catch the lightest hints of pain in his scent. He needed to get close enough to check.

“I see that. I can help him, Damian. Would that be okay, please? He wants me, he’s crying for me, you just have to let me make sure he’s okay, and I’ll give him right back, I promise.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Damian said, whimpering, sorrow sinking into his scent. “I’m just so scared. He smelled different.”

Bruce’s heart shattered in his chest. This was one of the first times he’d ever heard his youngest son verbally admit that he was scared. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt him, Damian. He used a different soap, in the shower. We didn’t know you were going to present.”

The mention of the shower seemed to clear Damian’s head a bit, obviously jogging his memory. He looked around, confused. “I asked him to use a different soap…he did it for me…Father?”

“Yes Damian, it’s me, I’m here,” Bruce answered, relieved.

Tim keened again, obviously noticing that Bruce’s scent had gotten stronger but that he still wasn’t close enough to help him. The keen sounded mournful, like he was convinced it would go unanswered. Damian’s eyes flicked down, and horror passed over his face.

“Oh, shit. He needs you,” he said, scrambling away from Tim, obviously at least some of the fog clearing enough for him to realize this. Bruce didn’t even lecture him for the cursing.

“Yes, he does. He’s very scared. Could I come help him, Damian?”

“Yes, yes, please help, I don’t know what to do,” the boy cried.

Bruce didn’t waste any time. He swept forward, scooping Tim into his arms and backing away from the bed in case Damian changed his mind.

Tim was instantly relieved, making tiny chirps and trying to nose at Bruce’s scent gland as well as he could with the submission bite restricting his movement.

Damian whimpered at the distance, but he didn’t fight. Suddenly, Dick was at the door again, carrying the first aid kit that had the sedatives in it.

Damian fell into a defensive position, for just a second, before obviously recognizing his brother too, and collapsing back down into the bed.

“Bring that here,” Bruce murmured, trying to clue Dick in on them not needing the injections yet. “Tim is hurt, Damian’s bite tore the skin at his neck a little, you might need to take him into the bathroom to patch this up.”

“NO!” Damian shouted. “No, you promised you wouldn’t take him, please. I have to make sure he’s safe.” He started to cry, finally.

“Okay, okay. We’re gonna do it here, on the floor, Damian. You don’t need to worry. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Bruce laid Tim on the floor, and he whimpered, a tiny, heartbroken noise. Bruce started to clean his neck, and he mewled, obviously in pain.

Dick leaned over him, stroking his hair back off his forehead. “I’m so sorry, baby bird. You’re okay. You’re doing so well.”

Damian sniffled from where he was curled in the bed, pressed back against the wall. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t recognize who he was. I’m scared, Richard.”

“I know it was an accident. Tim will know too, when his head clears up a bit. He’s okay, he doesn’t even need stitches. Dad is bandaging it now, it’s all clean. I’m so sorry you’re scared. Do you want me to come sit with you?” Dick knew they would need to talk about this more later, about not immediately going for a submission bite without even knowing if the threat was a threat, but Damian was too worked up for it to stick right now.

“I don’t KNOW,” Damian wailed, hunching in on himself. “I don’t know what I want. I want you, and I don’t. No, stay away.” The terror in his scent ricocheted up several levels, and Dick glanced at Bruce. It was probably time.

Bruce finished with Tim’s neck and nodded at Dick to take him. Dick pulled him into his arms, instantly making soothing noises at him and scenting anywhere he could reach.

Bruce took a deep breath. He might have been about to make a huge mistake, because if Damian knew about the sedatives, they wouldn’t be able to catch him by surprise in an emergency, but he needed to let Damian know what was going on. Sedating his child without consent felt too far, felt like a way to make new trauma. “Damian, I need you to listen to me. Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Damian whimpered, curling up more.

“Because of your past, your presentation has the possibility of being very scary and unpleasant. I have some medicine here, and if I gave you the medicine, you would go to sleep, and you would sleep through the worst parts, and your body would start to adapt to the new hormones without you needing to be awake for it. When you woke up, you would feel better. Would you like to try that medicine?” He asked, holding his breath.

Damian cried out, a tiny yip. “It’s not medicine. You want to kill me.”

“No Damian, no, I promise. It’s just medicine. I would never, ever hurt you. You are safe. While you slept, we would keep you and Tim safe, I swear to you. You don’t have to take it, not yet, but I wanted to give you the option.”

“What would it be like, if I did or if I didn’t? You didn’t tell me this would be like this. You didn’t tell me it would hurt,” Damian said, sounding betrayed.

Dick put his hand on Bruce’s arm, indicating that he wanted to speak. “I was going to talk to you about all of this today, Damian. I’m so, so sorry. It wasn’t our intention to catch you off guard. We also didn’t know for sure if it would hurt this much, or be this scary. Presenting is always unpleasant, especially the first wave, you just have it a little tougher than most, just like your brother did, and I’m sorry about that. I can’t tell you exactly what will happen, because everyone is different, but I can tell you what it should be like after that first wave?”

“Please,” He whimpered.

“If we give you the medicine, you’ll sleep through the first wave. When you wake up, you’ll still feel hot, maybe even angry or aggressive. You’re going to feel very protective and possessive over Tim, and Jason, if you want him too. You may not want Bruce or me very much, but we’ll be there too, because we’re going to teach you how to channel all these instincts healthily, without encroaching on your brother’s wants or needs. You might feel a little sick, but being close to your pack, especially the omegas, will help. You might still feel a little anxiety about something hurting your pack, but you won’t feel this fear. Now, if we didn’t sedate you, your body won’t get the rest it needs to process this onslaught, and you’re going to get more and more scared and upset until it would probably be dangerous not to sedate you, and we’d have no choice,” Dick told him, deciding to be honest. Damian really appreciated honesty, especially about hard things, and he could feel a bit of calm and clarity growing in Damian’s scent as he explained.

Damian looked up, uncurling slightly and making eye contact with Bruce. “You promise the medicine won’t hurt me?”

“It’s in a shot, so that might sting, but it will not do anything to harm you, I promise. You’re just gonna take a little nap.”

Damian nodded. “I want the medicine. And…I want Jason.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure he’s here when you wake up, baby bat.” Dick told him, he and Jason had already discussed whether it was even okay to offer him as an option. Jason was extremely apprehensive, ruts stressed him out in general, he hated to be fussed over, but he’d told Dick there was no way he wouldn’t be there for his brother if he wanted him, after all, Damian had endured his heat.

“Okay, Damian. I’m going to come give you the medicine, okay?” Bruce asked, cautiously.

Damian nodded, and Bruce approached him carefully with the kit.

“I’m very proud of you. I know it’s frightening, but I think this is a good decision,” Bruce said as he approached the edge of Tim’s bed. Damian crawled forward until he was within reach, and Bruce pulled an alcohol wipe out, swabbing Damian’s thigh. Damian was trembling head to toe as Bruce pulled the shot out.

“Wait,” Damian said, and Bruce stilled, instantly. “If something happens to me, please keep Timothy safe.”

Bruce felt his heart ache, a deep pain in his chest as he gave his son a shaky smile. “Nothing is going to happen to you, but I promise you I will. He’s my son, just like you. Are you ready?”

Damian nodded, and Bruce instructed him to hold on to his shoulders. He pressed the needle into the boy's thigh and Damian went stiff for a second, but as he pressed the plunger, Damian slowly went limp, until he was draped in Bruce’s arms, unconscious. Bruce gently lowered him to the bed, laying him down and pressing a kiss to his forehead, then just hovering there, pressed forehead to forehead with his son, taking deep breaths and trying to push his emotions away.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, gently.

“Get me a rag. I want to wash the blood off of him,” Bruce answered. His voice was hard, but quiet.

“Someone needs to stay with Tim,” Dick said, reminding him that both of his youngest sons needed a little extra care right now. He couldn’t break down. He needed to be strong, for his kids.

“Bring him here. Lay him with his brother. He needs to be washed up too.” Bruce patted a spot on the bed, and Dick lifted Tim easily, carrying him to the bed and arranging him comfortably by Damian.

Tim whimpered, attempting to get closer to his brother, and Bruce tucked Damian’s head into Tim’s neck.

“The rag, please,” Bruce asked Dick, and his voice broke a bit, as he stroked Tim’s hair.

He felt a little bit better when Tim started a stuttering purr.

Dick patted Bruce’s back, going into Tim’s bathroom. He got a washcloth, wetting it and then bringing it back to Bruce. Bruce started to wipe the blood away from Damian’s mouth, his hands, and then what he hadn’t already gotten on Tim’s neck and shoulder, They looked more peaceful then, and less like the damaged and hurt children they truly were. His soul ached. Why had all of his children been through such horrific things?

“They’re going to be okay,” Dick said gently.

“I know,” Bruce said with a sigh. “It’s just hard.”

“We didn’t have to do it in a scary, dramatic, painful way. He got to choose. I think that’s important. Tim…didn’t get so lucky, but I really do think he’ll understand. He’s growing so much. He’s been so patient,” Dick said, rubbing his dad’s back.

“I just hope this doesn’t erase any of his progress,” Bruce said, still stroking Tim’s hair, even though he was asleep too, now.

Dick sighed. “He’ll be okay. He’s extremely resilient. I’m going to call Jason, and then I’m gonna go try my best to make them a nest in your bed. I’m sure Jason or Tim will have to redo it, but I just don’t want them resting in here until Alfred can clean it up.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Bruce said, glancing around at the bloody sheets in the bed and the small bit of blood on the floor. He spotted Tim’s nesting blanket, bunched at the bottom of the bed, and somehow just knew that Damian had put it there so it wouldn’t get messed up. He smiled, grabbed it, and passed it to Dick, who seemed to have the same idea.

“That’s sweet. Even out of his mind scared, he was thinking about him. I’ll be sure to put this in the nest.” Dick leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to each of his brother’s foreheads before going out into the hall, leaving Bruce with his younger sons to take the moment he so obviously needed. He’d been so worried about needing to sedate Damian, and it had come to pass. If only Dick had been able to come have his little “so you’re gonna be an alpha” heart-to-heart with Damian a couple of days earlier, but they had just found out how rough it might be, hell, Dick had just picked up the sedatives that day.

He picked his phone up, dialing Jason, slightly worried about how his brother would react to what they had done. Jason answered on the first ring.

“Hey, is it go time?” Jason asked, nerves clear through the phone.

Dick sighed, bringing Jason up to speed on the fact that while, yes, Damian had gone into rut, he’d also accidentally attacked Tim. “We had to use the sedatives,” he finished, dully, as he started arranging blankets and pillows into the saddest excuse for a nest he’d ever seen. How the fuck did Jason and Tim make this look so easy?

Jason let out a huff of a breath over the phone. “Shit, I’m sorry. Is Tim okay? Are you?”

“I think I’m okay. It honestly wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He was more scared than aggressive, with the obvious exception of whatever the hell happened with Tim. We broke through his fear enough to explain what was going on, and he chose the medicine, so at least we didn’t have to do it without him knowing. Tim seems okay, but he’s sleeping it off now. It took us a while to convince Damian to let us get to Tim, so he was just keening and no one was coming, and I’m not sure if he was coherent enough for that to fuck him up. Bruce is pretty worked up.”

“Shit dude, I’m so sorry.”

“Anyway, Damian was asking for you, before he went down. He should be okay, it should be better, once he wakes up. But if this is going to be triggering I can-“

“No, I’m coming. Of course I’m coming. I’ll be there in thirty, man.”

Dick would be lying if he said that hearing that didn’t bring on such intense relief that he almost cried. “He’ll be asleep for at least a few hours, probably longer if his body knows what’s good for it. There’s no rush.”

“I’m coming for you, too, dummy,” Jason said, and the overwhelming sincerity in his voice almost made Dick cry.

“Thank fucking God, cause I just built the shittiest nest known to man.” He said, bringing some levity to the situation as he scrutinized his lumpy, half-falling over creation.

Jason laughed, and they exchanged goodbyes and see you soons before hanging up. Dick returned to Bruce, and they carried the boys to the makeshift nest, Dick holding Tim and Bruce holding Damian, before tucking them into the nest together, wrapped around each other again. Bruce seemed to be in a better place, but he still refused to leave his place of vigil, stalking back and forth in front of the bedroom door, guarding his children.

Dick settled into the nest by Tim, stroking his brother’s hair gently, waiting for him to wake up. When he did, it was with a panicked gasp.

“Damian,” he fretted, sitting up way too quickly and almost making himself pass out.

“Damian’s okay, he’s right next to you. Do you remember what happened?” Dick honestly had no clue how the bite happened in the first place, so he hoped Tim did.

Tim turned towards Damian without answering him, seemingly performing a quick visual check over to make sure he was okay, then putting a hand under his nose to confirm his breathing, but clocking that something about his sleep was unnatural, looking at Dick with trepidation. “He’s in rut. He was asleep, and I accidentally snuck up on him. I think he didn’t know it was me, and he bit me. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Dick sighed in relief, extremely grateful that Tim couldn’t remember what had happened afterwards, wasn’t feeling abandoned by his pack. “We found you guys because you started to keen. Damian…wasn’t in a good place. We had to sedate him.” Dick explained to Tim how the sedatives worked, that they would keep him calm and rested while his body worked through the worst parts of the presentation, keeping him from falling into unadulterated terror, that he should be much better when he woke up. “How’s your neck, does it hurt? I am so, so sorry this happened. I should’ve thought to check your room, it’s obvious he would feel safe there.”

“Stop that. Don’t do the Bruce thing. It’s not your fault, Dick. No one could’ve predicted this. My neck is fine, just a little sore. Plus…he didn’t mean to hurt me. I scruffed him when I was out of it, it’s only fair he gets his payback, as long as it doesn’t happen again,” Tim shrugged.

Dick was so, so relieved that he wasn’t too upset about it, that he was so understanding and graceful. He never really doubted he would be, even if he had remembered everything and been scared and distressed. That was just Tim. Forever their families' little mediator, the reason everything worked.

“Um…one thing though…” Tim said, and Dick’s eyes flicked to him, full of anxiety. “Can I remake this nest? Because I genuinely don’t know how you managed to make blankets and pillows this lumpy and uncomfortable.”

Dick burst out laughing, and that made Tim laugh, which drew Bruce back into the room, instantly fussing over his omega son. When they explained why they were laughing, Bruce cracked a smile, and eventually he started to chuckle too. It made Dick think that maybe that really would be okay. After all, they always were.