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When Tim first starts leaking his first diagnosis is that he's pregnant. Which, given his current sex life, wouldn’t be possible. Panic isn’t known for being sensible though. He quells his anxiety by drawing some blood and checking for any abnormalities. He finds a significant increase in Estrogen and Prolactin.
He’s naturally lactating without carrying a fetus. It’s not unheard of for eligible Omegas, but it’s not exactly common either. Involuntary Omega Lactation is the official diagnosis. IOL occurs when an Omega (Timothy) has a strong instinctual urge to be bred by a specific Alpha (nobody’s business).
Tim instantly shifts into ‘fix it’ mode. Fix it, as in ‘hide it from everyone and make it go away’. The first part is easy given how much practice Red Robin has. The second part, making the lactation cease, is a lot harder. With his spleen gone and his hormones already on edge because of his unstable pack, Tim is, essentially, fucked.
The only remedy he can count on is the natural one; being bred by his desired Alpha or mated by another. Neither of which is going to happen.
So Tim ends up where he is now, staring down at his gray tank top in displeasure. Two wet spots have made irregular stains over each nipple. He strips off the offending garment and throws it into his laundry basket before glaring at his chest in the mirror. His nipples are puffy, and his usually firm pecs are now on the softer side.
It’s awful.
And, luckily, hide-able.
Tim throws on a black tank top and then an equally dark Superboy T-shirt before heading down to the Dining Room for breakfast.
Alfred is there to greet him with a soft smile and chair pulled out, “Good morning, Master Timothy.”
“Good morning, Alfred,” Tim responds cordially as he takes a seat at the table.
Cassandra and Damian are the only other two inhabitants of the manor today, and they’re both present in the Dining Room with him. Cassandra is decorating Halloween cookies with bright neon frosting while Damian ignores the colorful activity.
“It’s about time you joined us, Drake,” Damian says haughtily as he butters a roll.
Alfred clucks his tongue disapprovingly, “Now, now, Master Damian.”
The butler’s subtle distaste for Damian’s behavior is very effective and much appreciated. While the rest of the family tends to ignore or reframe Damian’s bad attitude, Alfred takes the time to step in and correct the young teen when Bruce and Dick aren’t present.
Alfred sits down beside Cassandra, picking up an abandoned piping bag to continue working on a cookie Tim assumes he had put aside when he had heard the Omega coming.
Cass carefully chooses an orange pumpkin with sugar crystals piled on top to extend toward Timothy. He takes it gratefully, wincing as his arm brushes his tender chest.
“Hurt?” Cassandra asks, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
Tim shakes his head as he takes a bite of the sugar treat, “Just bruised. It’s no big deal.”
Damian scoffs, “Stop allowing criminals to injure you.”
“Boy, why didn’t I think of that?” Tim rolls his eyes, spitting out his response sarcastically.
>>>---+++---<<<
October always brings the rowdiest low-level criminals to the front lines. They dress up in dramatic costumes and cause as much chaos as they possibly can. A large group of them have banded together this evening to try and burn down a warehouse at the docks and are too hyped up on Halloween happiness to back down when Robin and Black Bat arrive.
Red Robin and Red Hood soon show up from different corners of Gotham to join in, ready to help subdue the rioting crowd of painted faces.
Tim makes the mistake of letting a criminal get close enough to take a swipe at him and hit his chest. It’s light enough that he usually wouldn’t have to worry about the contact, but because of his condition Red Robin falters with a hiss of pain.
The crowd tastes weakness and refocuses.
Robin shouts and fights toward him, picking up his slack as they turn back to back.
Once the crowd has finally split and the most dangerous rioters have been hogtied, the group reconvenes on the roof of the warehouse to catch their breath.
Damian turns to Red Robin with pursed lips, “If you’re so injured you cannot hold your own, you should not be patrolling.”
Tim is about to say something petty when Red Hood sidles up beside them and asks nosely, “What’s this about being injured?”
“It’s not a big deal, I just got hit in a bruised area,” Tim tries not to pout, flushing.
Cassandra steps in closer and points at his chest confidently.
“It’s an Omega thing,” Tim frowns defensively, face burning up.
Damian blanches, face screwing up in discomfort.
Robin recovers quickly though, insisting, “Your secondary gender isn’t an excuse for failure.”
Tim’s unsure whether to be offended or proud. Jason makes that choice for him though, hitting Robin over the head with an open palm lightly.
“Fuckin’ Demon Brat! You gotta be more respectful about Omega shit.” Red Hood admonishes.
Damian grunts angrily before taking a deep breath and giving in, “Sorry. Be more careful, Red Robin.”
Tim’s warmed by Jason’s show of support. Damian’s a rude kid, but he’s not purposely an incel.
Red Robin sighs, “If we’re done talking about my Omega problems can we go?”
“Embarressed,” Cassandra says coyly.
Tim swings his head around to look at her with frustration, “SHH!”
Jason claps Tim on the back, “Aw, there’s no need to be embarrassed, Red, yer’ still a big bad vigilante despite having sore tits.”
Tim chokes, “Jesus.”
Red Hood cackles loudly and Cassandra giggles.
Agent A interrupts through the comms, “If that’s all, you should be continuing on now. The authorities are on their way.”
“Someone needs to stay with Red Robin,” Damian insists.
“I’m fine.”
“C’mon, baby bird, why don’t we have a red on red team up?” Jason offers, smirking.
“You’re not even actually patrolling with us!” Tim points out.
Jason clutches imaginary pearls and gasps, “Hey! I’m an honorary member.”
“Stay with Red Robin,” Black Bat addresses Red Hood.
“See? Now I gotta be by your side, birdy. I don’t wanna face the wrath of Orphan.” Jason complains agreeably.
Cassandra huffs and grapples away.
The rest of the night’s patrol goes smoothly, Red Hood staying close to Red Robin at all times. As early morning comes, they motor back to the Batcave.
“You didn’t have to escort me back. I’m not helpless.” Tim tells Red Hood as he dismounts his bike.
Jason clucks his tongue, “Not everything’s about you, baby bird. I got business to attend to in the ‘Cave.”
“A case?”
“A none-of-your-business.” Jason shoots back.
Alfred, who’s been walking towards them from the main Batcave monitor with a covered tray, nods respectfully, “Master Timothy, Master Jason.”
“Heya Al,” Jason nods back.
Alfred uncovers the tray with a flourish, “For you, Master Timothy.”
“What–?” Red Robin stares down at the tray and pales, “Oh.”
Alfred’s tray has a sports bra and two round ice packs meant for breastfeeding mothers to press against sore breasts.
Jason chuckles as he eyes the offering, “Y’need help with those ice tits, Red?”
Tim doesn’t bother responding as he takes the tray and rushes to one of the private rooms to pull on the sports bra and tuck the round ice packs in.
Later, once Timothy has retired to his bedroom, there’s a knock on his door.
The butler pushes into the room quietly, holding another tray.
“Alfred?” Tim asks.
Alfred brings the tray over to where the Omega lays in bed, his Beta scent calm and stable. He places the tray down on the sheets. When he stands up without pulling the tray’s cover off, Tim does so.
There’s a pair of clearly expensive breast pumps on cloth waiting beside a user manual. There’s packaging as well, ready to save whatever he pumps to be put aside into his mini fridge full of zestis to do what he wishes with (probably donation).
Tim racks his brain, trying to figure out how Alfred discovered his secret.
Alfred clears his throat politely, “Master Timothy. Please know that I am here at your discretion for whatever you may need. You are pack.”
Tears prick at the Omega’s eyes as he grips the items and sniffles.
Alfred puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “My boy, take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Tim croaks.
“Everything is already disinfected for use,” Alfred informs him, finally pulling away.
“Thanks.”
Alfred heads back towards the bedroom door before looking back and asking, “Master Timothy?”
“Yeah?”
“Master Jason would be lucky to have you as his Omega.”
Before Tim can respond, the door shuts behind the Beta.
