Chapter Text
Three months ago, when mother's hand had been forced by uprisings within the League she had dropped him unceremoniously off at his biological Father's house. Damian had stood behind her, soaking in her warmth in the cold cave under Wayne Manor. It was unfair. Damian had always wanted to meet his Father, but not like this! Not if it meant being abandoned by his Mother! The cave was cold and smelled like anti-septic and metal, Batman himself wore industrial grade scent patches and his cowl as Mother explained her situation and reasoning for keeping Damian a secret from him. The whole load of nothing on Father's countenance made Damian nervous. He unconsciously leaned in closer to Mother's calming Alpha scent. She exuded Melancholy-Love-It's-Alright through their bond, and he tried to relax.
Then Mother left. Leaving behind her nothing but the jasmine that lingered on Damian. He tried and failed to suppress a whine calling her back. Mama didn't come back. Father stiffened at Damian's whine, before pulling off his cowl.
"...Hello Damian." His face was blank and unimpressed. Was Father disappointed in his pup-like sounds? He hadn't meant to voice them!
That was alright. He could do better.
"Father." Damian made an effort of sneering and moving back slightly, to show off that he didn't need a caretaker, and was not slave to his puppish instincts. He attempted to posture, as he had seen grown alphas do in the League. "I thought you'd be taller."
Father stares at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, before grunting. "May I scent you?"
The air in the cave dropped. Damian knew that the safest option was obedience, so he nodded within the split second, tilting his head to expose the vulnerable glands on his neck. He ignored the way it felt wrong-wrong-WRONG to do so in an open cave, as bats screeched around them. He carefully kept the fear out of his milky scent. "Of course, Father."
Batman peels off the scent patch on his wrist and swarms Damian, like a predator pouncing. The man covers him in pine and petrichor in some odd frenzy. Damian stiffens, it would be so easy to take out his neck right now, or for Father to dig his claws into his sensitive scent glands. What was Father even doing? He had seemed displeased earlier upon hearing of Damian's existence. Was he marking Damian as property? No pack bond had slid into place, so he obviously did not want Damian. His face scrunches up in displeasure at the thought.
Father stops scenting him soon after.
Perhaps he was waiting for the rest of Gotham's vigilantes to show up, Mother had bonded with Damian after he was born, but, perhaps in the USA, they had ceremonies or meetings or something. That would be understandable. It didn't stop the puppish feelings of rejection bubbling up in his gut, however.
☆ ☆ ☆
As the weeks went on, it became harder and harder to attempt to fool himself that a pack bond was coming.
Father scented him rarely and quickly. Never once taking Damian into his arms, or purring, or rumbling like he did when scenting his chosen children. Damian suppressed whimpers and winces during each scenting 'session' that ended far too quickly. It was clear that Father was only doing it out of necessity, if the strained look on his face was anything to go by. The Alpha's scent smelled repressed too, like he was hiding something from Damian.
Disgust and hatred, no doubt.
Damian cuddled into the blanket on his bed sadly. He had attempted to make his own nest. It was miserable and pathetic but it soothed his instincts, even just a little. Even if the only scent in the lopsided, underwhelming nest was spoiled milk and loneliness.
Was it such a chore to claim Damian? Even if the 'claiming' was just by scent? Just a way of telling Damian's pup that he was merely allowed in the territory.
His stomach grumbled at the same time he keened.
Even that was a chore to Father. Because Father did not want Damian here, yet was too noble to say so.
As if sensing that he was 'sulking', Mother opened up her side of the bond and sent through feelings of love and care. He relaxes into the mattress, letting the emotions curve around the bond in his heart protectively. It soothed his sorrow, even as the bond was closed off again. Mother was probably on a mission, and did not have much time. Damian closed his eyes, focusing on closing up the bond on his side too. He was getting better at doing so.
Finally, letting his hunger win, Damian makes his way to the kitchen to get a snack before lunch. The hallways were rather deserted for the time of day. Pennyworth had left in the morning to run some errands, so no one would know if Damian stole food outside of mealtimes. Damian walks in a zigzag pattern across the corridors, making a game of trying to stay in the sunlight streaming in from the windows for as long as possible. He opens the door to the kitchen only to freeze. A low guttural growl sounds from the table, where Father sits with Drake in his lap. It teeters off as soon as it had started, but Damian still freezes. Ice-cold puppish fear claws at his throat, freezing him in place. He was intruding. He walked in on the Alpha scenting a pack member and now he was intruding. He was intruding in on a pack moment and now Father was angry.
Drake elbows father and Damian winces. Father lets out an admonished sound, probably to illustrate his distaste for Damian witnessing such a domestic moment, because Damian wasn't pack, and now he was ruining bonding sessions. It was only a matter of time before he was either punished or kicked out.
Father refuses to look at Damian, probably because he did not want to be reminded of the existence of such a disappointment. Drake makes a clicking sound with his tongue, his tone is teasing. "Are you coming in, or what?"
He startles, taking a step into the kitchen like he had been electrocuted. Drake surveys him with interest. "See that can over there? Could you give it over to me?"
Damian swallows down the lump in his throat as he slowly moves towards the counter, he waits for Father's growl to start up again. It does not. He tries to stay silent so as not to trigger the alpha's instincts. Father did not consider Damian his puppy, which meant that Damian was at risk of being mauled without a second thought. Because despite their shared DNA, Damian was still an outsider and an intruder. He hands Drake the can and is thankful when the older boy takes it. The aluminium metal cold when he wrapped his fingers around it.
"Thanks, Damian."
Damian nods in acknowledgement, a small hope sprouting in his chest. Perhaps, in showing the pack how useful he could be, he would be accepted within it.
Father frowns for a moment, and Damian quickly backs away. It wasn't fair. Damian missed the League of Assassins, at least there, Mother welcomed his presence with an arm around the shoulders, or perhaps even a side hug and the light dusting of her rich jasmine scent on him, reminding him of her love—provided that they had enough time, of course. Here, he was subject to be growled at for merely entering the room.
Damian moved away from the Alpha and Beta, and lifted a chair over towards the counter, so he could reach the cabinet. Behind him, Father's paternal scent blooms, Damian's pup almost yips, but he suppresses the sound. That warm, loving scent was not for Damian. It was for Drake, who was blinking wearily and slowly in the Alpha's embrace. The pup ignores it, reaching up into the cupboard and pulling out a snack-sized packet of crackers. It would keep him full until lunchtime in an hour or so.
Snores erupt from Drake, and Damian takes that as a sign to quietly leave the kitchen. It's harder than it should be, especially once Father starts purring, Damian's pup just wants to stay and hear the soothing sound. But it's not for Damian. Damian hasn't earned the warmth, or the hugs, or the purrs.
Why was Drake allowed cuddles and affection, when Damian's pup must survive on short, awkward scentings? It wasn't fair.
He closes the door quietly behind him, and swallows the keen—the call for a pack—that builds up in his throat.
☆ ☆ ☆
Then, the testing began. Father had decided to begin sparrings with Damian, in an attempt to gouge his skill and usefulness to the pack. The cave was damp and dark, but Damian schooled his expression, he had to impress Father. Maybe then the Alpha would give him a nice, long scenting, like the ones so freely given to the actual members of his pack.
The training mat is firm under his feet as he lunges for Father. The man dodges and Damian stumbles on the landing before regaining his balance. He cringes. Father had to have noticed his failures, because he was gruffly told to do some stretches. The Alpha corrects his form, only touching Damian's shoulders for a moment. Only a fleeting moment, because Father couldn't stand having to touch Damian.
Father flexes his muscles, going above and beyond to show Damian that he was just a mere pup, and completely useless to the pack.
An intruder sneaks into the cave.
"Hey B, whatcha doing?" Richard Grayson—Father's eldest protégé—calls out from behind Father.
The Alpha turns around instantly, a smile on his face as he looks at his pack member. A pang of jealousy bubbles up in his gut. It wasn't fair!
"Just some sparring with Damian, we're finished now though." Father says, with a happy rumble in his voice. Because he was finally finished with Damian, and didn't have to look at him any more. "What did you need, chum?"
Damian pouts mentally. He wanted happy rumbles too.
Grayson stares at him intensely before waving. "Hey Dami!" Was this another test? Damian could not smell the Omega, and the clinical, chemical smell of scent blockers was putting him on edge. Subconciously, the pup steps behind the Alpha fully, attempting to submerge himself in the safety of his strong shadow.
Thankfully Father is too engrossed with Grayson's presence to notice his cowardice.
Grayson completely writes him off, having decided that Damian was no longer interesting enough to entertain with. He turns back to Father and continues, "I need to borrow the Batcomputer for some scans, is all."
"I see. Go ahead, chum." Father responds. It's not fair. Grayson and Cain and Todd and Drake and even Brown and Thomas get nicknames! But Damian only gets called Damian by Father. Grayson scoffs, perhaps noticing Damian's glum expression, and being annoyed at such an ungrateful puppy.
Father pauses for a moment before continuing, "...You could also stay for dinner."
The Omega refuses the offer and Damian bites back a scathing remark. He wished Father would yearn to share a meal with him like that.
Grayson had looked straight at his direction before refusing, to make matters worse.
It wasn't fair.
☆ ☆ ☆
Even Father's other pack members had stopped visiting the manor. Because Damian was invading their pack territory and making everyone uncomfortable because of it. Father's 'pups'—they were much too old to be considered pups any more—looked at him with an odd expression any time they would catch him sneaking around the manor. They would superficially invite Damian to game nights and pack movie nights, but their voices were careful and their expressions were schooled. Damian was not stupid, pack nights were for pack. Damian was not pack.
Grayson had ruffled his hair once in passing. Damian nearly jumped out of his skin initially, but the feeling was nice. He stood still in his spot in the hallway for a while afterwards, replaying the moment in his head. The Omega must have noticed that Damian liked it, because he never ever did it again. He too stopped showing up at the manor after that. Because Damian had messed up and ruined everything with his unwanted presence.
Todd had yet to even show up to the manor. Probably because he didn't want to see the horrid pup that Bruce felt biologically obligated to take in.
Cain and Drake had each left to go stay with their friends, and Pennyworth had thrown all of his time into cleaning. They all pretended to be busy because Damian was there and he was ruining everything for their entire pack.
Mother loved him. Mother would envelop him in her strong alpha scent whenever she had the chance. She would have fussed over his robes, and stayed silent when he snuck into her den in the dead of night. Mother still exuded love through their bond, when she was certain that he would not feel her fear or anger, or any other emotion caused by her missions and duties within the League.
'But Mama still left you here.' He thought miserably to himself, clutching at the blankets in his horrible puppish imitation of a nest.
Mother still left him here, where Father rarely even wanted to scent him let alone look at him. Where he did not have a pack or a home.
Damian did not like being an intruder. He suppressed a sad whine.
☆ ☆ ☆
In an act of mercy, Father allows Damian to patrol with him, a test to prove his worth to the pack, no doubt. Damian stands on a Gotham Rooftop, wearing a generic black vigilante suit with a domino mask to match. A black cape flutters behind him slightly with the breeze.
It was a nice patrol, in all honesty, even when Poison Ivy had broken out of Arkham Asylum and he and Father had to track her down to fight her. Damian was doing well too, he had even earned a grunt in approval as he cut through vines and foliage!
Then, Ivy blows some sort of substance into Father's face. A substance that she claims will reduce anyone down to their Base Instinct, rendering them feral.
It all goes wrong.
And then, Poison Ivy retreats. Father starts to growl, low and guttural and terrifying. Damian takes off sprinting and leaping across rooftops in a mad dash. Father's heavy footfalls sound after him as he runs for his life against the speeds of a feral alpha. His muscles scream at him but he keeps going. Tears burn at the back of his eyes as a lump forms in his throat, he had tried! He had been good and quiet and never purposefully interrupted their pack bonding sessions, or sought out their pack den! He had tried his very best not to intrude, but now he was going to die. He was going to die because Father had been reduced down to his base instincts, and now instead of seeing him as merely a burden dropped upon him, Father saw him as an interloper, a trespasser to his territory. Because scent marking wasn't enough. It was never enough to mark someone as pack. At least not in the way Damian was scent marked. The wind whips through his hair and cape as Batman gains on him. Damian shoots forwards with the last of his strength, praying and begging anything out there to save him. But, Damian was an unwanted puppy, and no one would even care.
Father catches up to him, trapping him in his arms as he growls in warning. Damian lets out an involuntary whine, going completely limp in the angry, feral alpha's arms. His stupid puppy instincts urge him to find a place to hide, but there's nowhere to hide, and Father is going to murder him now. He couldn't even be blamed if he did, as he would be completely under the influence of Ivy's pollen. It was therefore completely logical that he'd get rid of the deadweight intruder within his pack territory. Unable to reach for his distress beacon in fear of angering the snarling Alpha, Damian closes his eyes, his throat would be ripped out soon.
The angry Alpha takes Damian back to the cave. He whines, shivering from both fear and the cold. Damian freezes in fear once Father sets him down. Was this a test? He stays still, it must have annoyed Father more, because he grunts out "Warm. Shower." in a tone that leaves no room for insubordination. Slowly, not wanting to startle the feral beast, Damian makes his way to the shower room.
A low, angry growl sounds and Damian speeds up. It was fine. He just needed to bide his time, and figure out a way to escape this. All he needed to do was make sure he didn't pose a 'challenge' to the feral Alpha in the cave. Once he gets to the locker room leading into the showers, Damian presses the distress beacon in his utility belt. Hopefully Nightwing or Red Hood or someone would be able to respond in time and Damian would be able to save his throat from being ripped out.
He stays in the shower for as long as possible, warm water pelting his skin. Father probably thought he was dirty. That stung.
In the locker rooms, old clothes had been lain out for him. Damian slowly puts them on, aware that Father may retaliate if he took any longer to present himself. Perhaps the old clothes were a part of Damian's punishment. Perhaps he was about to be beaten so hard that blood would stain them, and Father had not wanted to waste newer clothing. Damian gulped at the thought. Slowly, like a dead man walking down the gallows, the pup stepped out of the locker room. Damian's fear was pungent—like spoiled milk—as he walked towards the feral alpha.
Father's eyes narrow. The scent of an angry territorial alpha fills the cave before he lunges for Damian and races up the stairs.
Perhaps Damian wasn't going to die? Maybe he'd be thrown into an underground fight ring as punishment for his intrusion. It would be hard, and scary, and quite difficult to survive on account of him still being a pup, but he would manage maybe, somehow. Either way, some angry alpha somewhere would rip his throat out. Damian whines involuntarily at the thought. Father's hold tightens on him. The alpha snarls at Pennyworth, and all hope of a fight ring fades from Damian's heart. He was too feral, too far gone because of those stupid pheromones. Now Damian was going to die.
Father carries Damian to his den and practically throws him into the nest. The Alpha prowls around his Master Bedroom and scents every inch of the perimeter with the scent of a territorial, threatening Alpha. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, and Damian tries to make sense of the situation.
Perhaps Father needed someone to clean up around the nest and do upkeep, yet did not want to 'degrade' his pack with the job? Damian wasn't entirely unsure how or if it would even be considering degrading, but he was still learning of cultural differences here, and perhaps it was. That would explain the pup's presence.
Damian sits up and begins to neaten up the blankets strewn across the nest. He smoothens out a fluffy red one and fixes the folded edges so it's even. It wasn't much but if it could save him from being mauled, Damian would try anything.
He wanted his Mother.
A low, guttural chuckle comes from the Alpha's throat, and at once, Damian knows that he has gotten it completely wrong. Father was closer to him than he had been before. Damian freezes, dropping the pillow in his hand.
Father must have brought him back to his den to strangle him with the blankets, and string his body up midievil-style in a bid to get his actual pups—the ones who are bound to him by choice and by pack, not biology he had no control over or want for—to come back. Then he could show each of them Damian's corpse, and it wouldn't be too bloody so as to disturb them. Yes that seemed likely—
—Puppy terror fills the air once more. Damian cringes at the scent.
Trilling, Father gathers Damian into his arms in a cocoon, before covering them both in fuzzy blankets that smell like pack. Damian shifts uncomfortably and whines in utter bafflement. He wasn't supposed to be here. Father should be wringing in his neck, or tearing him limb from limb, not...whatever was happening! Perhaps the Alpha found those methods too bloody and was going to suffocate Damian instead with the pillows in the nest. Then the instinct-driven part of his mind would show off Damian's dead body like a trophy, because now the intruder would be gone. Father rumbles soothingly and Damian blinks in confusion as he begins to get swayed from side to side.
Father leans down into the crook of Damian's vulnerable neck, and the pup prepares for the pain. Only, there is no pain. Father begins aggressively scenting him, covering the scared-curdled-milk scent with strong pine and petrichor, effectively masking Damian with his scent. Then, warmth. Something warm and full and lovely snaps into place beside the bond he has with Mother in his heart. That something grows, with intertwining tendrils connecting him to each member of the Wayne Pack. He chirps in surprise and relief at the feeling. His own puppish instincts relaxing fully. Damian wasn't with a scary feral Alpha who did not want him in his pack. Damian was with his protective Father/Alpha who wanted to keep him safe and sound in the den.
Now, with the aide of the new bond, the possessive, territorial scent had melted away, instead replaced by Protective-Dad-LoveLoveLOVE. Damian sighs in contentment at the distinction.
His own scent sweetens as he yawns. Mother sends love-safe-protection through their bond, and he thinks for a moment that he feels exhasperation-really-B?? from one of his adopted siblings before their projection is shut closed. Love-welcome-to-the-pack coats his entire being. Damian yawns into fluffy blankets, and nestles further into strong Alpha's chest. His heart felt light and full all at the same time, and Damian had never felt more loved.
Puppish fears and insecurities instinctually soothed, Damian falls into a slumber.