Chapter Text
Dick didn’t realize how fucking far Bruce lived from his old home until it takes well into the next day just for him to get to step one. He has to rest on multiple park benches just to keep from full on fainting, though he has several close calls. It’s purely adrenaline and fervent love for his family keeping him going at this point. The hollow ache echoes off his ribs and he knows the agonizing reverberation will not cease until they’re once again in his arms. He can’t let himself stop, not until he has them back. He pushes past the torturous pain, the reopened bleeding between his legs, the debilitating exhaustion, he grits his teeth and presses on. He feels their loss like a missing limb, his body off kilter and left reaching for what was once his.
He can’t relax, even when he gets back to their old den. The dingy room still lingers with their stale scent, the sour fear left in their wake. Any meager supplies they had have vanished and he can only hope Jason managed to tow it along with them. It eases some of the tension from his ribs to see the proof of his omega’s obedience. As much of a brat the kid could be, he knows when shit goes down to actually listen to his pack omega. He always does what’s right for the pack, even if he’s not happy with the decision.
There’s not much left of their old hideaway anyway. The place left in clear disarray after the traffickers invaded. He supposes it wasn’t quite a break-in when the condemned building barely had working doors in the first place. There’s some forgotten trash though, leftover wrappers. It’s enough for Dick to get a good whiff of Jason’s scent. Though he’s long since memorized the sweet pheromones, it’s always simpler with a sample at hand. The omega knows not to leave a trail, it would lead alphas there just as easily as it would guide Dick. So he has to do it the old fashioned way. It’s more effortless, as packmates. His nose is highly attuned to his pup’s scent, allowing him to pick up the slightest traces.
His omega guides him, allowing him to weave through alleys and stumble past abandoned buildings until he finally finds the place where his instincts seem to scream herehereherehere-
He enters slowly, knowing how much Tim loves to leave booby traps for unsuspecting intruders. When nothing ensnares or otherwise incapacitates him, he gives a low trill. A calling sort of sound to his pack, saying I’m here, are you here, I’m here.
There’s nothing at first, and that full-body devastation threatens to overtake, to leave him in a sobbing puddle on the floor, and then he hears it. Another trill, low and cautious. It’s him, he knows it’s him. Jason. His Jason. He calls out louder, more confident. He bounds up the wobbling stairs, pure elation blowing past any residual pain, knowing how fond Jason is of being high up. I’m here, I’m here, where are you?
There’s another whine, high and loud and so very pupish he knows that it’s Tim. Mama? His pup calls, mama, are you here? Dick finds them. God, he finds them. Jason and Tim and Damian, together. Here. They’re here, god they're here. Jason catches him before he falls. He holds him so tightly it aches against the wounds on his back and he only leans further into it. He’ll take anything at all if it means he gets to have his packmates in his arms.
Jason practically carries him to their threadbare nest. It’s low and it doesn’t have enough blankets and it’s so fucking perfect. Damian still smells of sleep from his recent nap and Dick doesn’t have time to regret waking him because he’s here. Jason doesn’t even pretend to dislike the cuddling, holding on just as fervently. They’re all piled together. Damian clambers into his lap the second he realizes who’s here, face wet with overwhelmed tears. Dick manages to squeeze Tim into his lap too, and Jason is pressed against his side. And it’s everything he ever wanted. His family here, all together. They’re here, they’re here. No one can take them away now, not when Dick finally has them back.
Damian is licking at his neck the way pups do, when they’re so very needy for a proper scenting. It’s familial and intimate and it’s so good. It’s so good. Dick kisses him on the head and when Tim gives an instinctive little whimper, soft and small and so very precious, he gives him a kiss on the temple. Never one to leave Jason out, he presses his lips to his forehead. He lingers, hoping to push just as much love-gratitude-claiming-love-hereherehere as he can into the touch.
He’ll never be able to show his gratitude properly to Jason, for stepping up, for taking care of the little ones, for listening, for waiting for him. And he knows Jason wouldn’t accept it anyway. They’re in this together, always have been. “I love you,” he whispers. He says it again, to each of them, to all of them. He’s crying, and that’s okay. Damian started bawling the second he clambered into his lap and Tim wasn’t far behind. They're wet-faced and red-eyed and together, they’re together, their hands on him, their scents once again mixing so beautifully, his favorite concoction, it’s everything he ever wanted. This, his family here, this is what he fought and staggered and gnashed his way for, to once again be cuddled safe in the nest. His little pack. His.
Jason doesn’t start crying until Dick says, “I’m here, I’m back. I came back.” And then all his resolve crumples at once. He presses as close to Dick as he can. He noses at his neck, his hair, rubs his wrist over every wound he sees, gently, gently so. They have to lay down, and that’s even better. Because like this he can have Damian pillowed against his chest and he can have Tim under one arm and Jason under the other and they’re all together. They’re here, they’re in the puppy pile he kept dreaming about. And it’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.
Not even the pain in his back can quell the pure bliss he’s in, his instincts thrumming with a primal satisfaction knowing his whole pack is once again safe. He rubs his wrists over them and though there are bandages blocking the skin to skin, his pheromones leak through regardless. It swells around them like a second embrace, fully encompassing his little family.
Damian licks at his collar again, over the bandages, finds the rare spot of unblemished skin. Dick is once again grateful that he had been allowed to wash, if not for his own cleanliness then for his baby to not have to taste the remnants of what those alphas left behind. Instinctively, Dick reaches a hand down to check his diaper, only to find it clean and dry. Affection swells up even brighter at the proof that Jason succeeded in taking care of the little ones. He didn’t doubt, no, but it’s a relief nonetheless.
This close, he can smell the clear contentment in the boy’s scents. Past the abundance of happy-safe-relief there’s no more stench of hunger than to be expected for street pups. Any amount of hunger is heartwrenching, though there’s still solace to be found that the boys haven’t sat idly starving for their pack leader to return.
He trails the hand wrapped around Jason up to his nape. He gives a small squeeze, not a full blown scruffing but a reassurance, a pleased sort of gratitude and permission to rest all at once. The omega mewls, a vulnerable sound he normally doesn’t allow in front of the puppies, and Dick is all the more glad to hear it. He couldn’t contain his smile even if he tried. He gives one last comforting squeeze before running his fingers through his hair, easing away any of the stubborn tangles perpetually plaguing his curls.
His attention is brought to Tim when the pup begins to squirm. At first he thinks he has to go potty and is about to ask Jason about their bathroom situation when Tim trills. It’s the same sort of sound as before, the same wordless question. Dick’s heart breaks a bit at the same time he chuffs, assuring his cub, I’m here, I’ve got you, puppy-mine. Any sort of restless anxiety lingering in the boy eases out of him, his body finally relaxing fully against his. He nuzzles close, his happy-relieved rumbles vibrating against Dick’s skin. He purrs back, just as reverent.
Dami grizzles, not distressed but simply overwhelmed. The toddler is probably getting a bit scent drunk with the sudden influx, but he’ll be okay. His own milky pup scent is creamy with contentment, so elated to be held by his mama. He’s a strong boy, so much more than he should have to be, and Dick won’t let anything happen to him, to any of them.
Jason matches their purrs in tune, still a bit syrupy from his not-scruff.
They stay like that, scenting and head kisses and hair pets and cuddles, more than satisfied to nest the rest of the evening away. With a pacifier pressed to his lips and bobbing gently, Damian drifts off first, still sleepy from his shortened nap. Tim settles so nicely when Dick promises not to leave, that he’ll still be there holding him when he wakes up. With a gentle caress to his face, fingers tracing over his skin, he eases him to sleep. He doesn’t bother trying to get Jason all the way down, not yet. He knows he needs answers. Not that he could blame him. He’d do the same thing if Jason disappeared for days only to come back bruised to all hell. He only hopes that if he ignores the ever-present ache between his legs that his omega will too.
He’s just grateful that he waited until the puppies fell asleep. He’s gotten more tactful as time has gone on, and it shows now. Jason keeps his voice a low murmur, careful not to awaken either cub. “How’d you get out?” Part of Dick wants to take this conversation elsewhere, to the bathroom or the hall, ensure the babies won’t hear. But just the thought of separating from his packmates makes his stomach shrivel like it’s been exposed to the sun too long. He couldn’t, even if he didn’t promise Timmy, he couldn’t bear it.
He shouldn’t even be surprised that that’s the first question Jason has. He’s always been clever. His smart boy. “After I was taken,” he licks his lips, doesn’t let exhaustion overtake quite yet. He’s running on fumes, beyond that at this point, but he can hold on a little bit longer. For Jason, he can. “An alpha got me. He attacked the traffickers, I think he killed them.” There’s no way to know for sure, but they were all quite still. “Then he brought me to his home.”
Jason gives a growl at that, like he can’t help himself. “Easy,” Dick says. He reaches a hand out, thumbs at his scent gland in a way he knows will get him more pliant, more submissive. He doesn’t scruff him, doesn’t need to. He quiets down well, stifling his growl and leaning into the touch. “He wanted me to stay there with him.” He doesn’t mention all the weird son stuff. He’ll tell him eventually, he knows he will. But for now he needs to process it on his own, decide if it seems more like a sick game or a forgotten reality. “They gave me a room and the first chance I got, I ran away. They didn’t even lock me up.”
Jason’s brow furrows and Dick can’t soothe away the tension with touch alone. He rubs his wrist anywhere he can reach without jostling either pup on his chest, but Jason’s expression doesn't change. “Do you think he followed you.”
Dick had thought of that too, with every other step he took he was peering over his shoulder. “I don’t think so. He didn’t seem the type to let things play out on their own. I think if he knew he would have stopped me right then and there.”
Jason hums, pondering his words before noting, “he cleaned you up.”
He huffs out a laugh, low enough to not startle the babies. “His beta did. He was nice enough, gave me medical care.”
Jason snorts humorlessly, “must like his toys in pristine condition.” He tries to somehow shift closer, as if there’s even a hairsbreadth of distance between them.
Dick hums, “seemed like it.” There’s more to be said, always is. But Jason looks just as bone-tired as he feels. His blinks are getting more sluggish and his scent is already starting to get that sleepy quality to it, the way it does just before he passes out. “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Only then does he close his eyes, pressed right against his omega’s side.
Dick holds them close, lets the melody of their steady breaths ease him to sleep.
/
Damian wakes up first, which isn’t a surprise to anyone. The toddler always wakes up with the sun, joyous and with boundless energy. He wiggles in vain attempt to free himself from Dick’s hold, eager to play. He knows well enough by now, instinctively keeping a firm embrace on the baby even while asleep. Damian isn’t able to wriggle away without waking the rest of their little family. So Dick opens his eyes to be greeted by a grinning, squirming, pup.
“Good morning,” he greets fondly, voice still raspy from slumber. “How’d you sleep?” He unwraps his arm just enough to caress the boy’s cheek. The baby leans in unabashedly, purring so loud it rouses Jason. Dick is a bit surprised he didn’t wake up already. He must have truly been exhausted if his defenses are down like that. Dick will have to keep an eye on him, get a chance to talk privately about the measures he had to take with the pack omega gone. He knows Jason would do anything in his power to keep the little ones safe, and he still needs to ensure the boy took care of himself as well.
Damian doesn’t answer the question, but he didn’t really expect him to anyway. As excitable as he is in the morning, it can take him a little while to find his words again. All the same, he smiles so big his pacifier slips from his lips and falls onto Dick’s chest. The pup shows no distress over losing his soother, content to snuggle up with a happy wiggle.
When Jason sees there is indeed no danger, it’s simply the baby fidgeting with restless energy, he presses his face back against Dick’s shoulder with a sleepy groan. “You can go back down, Jay. It’s okay. I’ve got them.” He uses the hand not keeping Damian contained to gently scent his fellow omega. He rubs his wrist over his neck, the swell of his cheek, his hair.
Despite the way he leans into the touch, he still forces himself to flip over. Jason lays on his back and gives a big stretch, his too-small shirt showing his belly when he raises his arms. He yawns just as grandly before curling back up, clearly needing a few more minutes to properly wake up.
Dick will have to get up soon. One pat to Damian’s bottom and it’s clear he needs a new diaper. He’ll have to get a new package of them when they have the chance. They were already low stock beforehand and it’s a marvel in itself that Jason had managed to grab what was left of their supply before finding their new den. He’ll have to wait a bit, make sure Bruce didn’t actually follow him, before he can allow a supply run. As much as it stirs the queasiness in his belly, he might have to let Jason go grab some. The kid has always been remarkable at shoplifting, even the bulky items like packs of diapers, and he’ll be quicker than Dick. Dick can get the job done, but with all his injuries it’ll be that much harder to evade any chasers if he does get caught.
That’s a problem for later. For now he’s too busy pressing smooches to the toddler’s face, relishing in the adorable giggles he lets out with each press of the lips. His loud purrs must vibrate against the baby because he laughs and snuggles in further. At a particularly gleeful squeal, Tim starts to stir. Dick runs his fingers through his hair soothingly, but he still opens his eyes. He gives a content hum, leaning into the touch, even as he stares up at the omega. Tim nuzzles against him a moment before mumbling, “morning, mama.”
He can’t help his smile when he looks down at his boy, “good morning, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”
Tim grins back just as dazzling, giving a purr of his own to rival the rest of the pack. “Good, no dreams.” For Tim, no dreams is always something to celebrate.
The poor kiddo has been overwrought with debilitating nightmares since they met him. Even with over a year of puppy piles and regular scenting, he still will more often than not wake up crying from haunting memories of loneliness and neglect. On the worst occasions, he’ll be so horrified by the visions in his brain that he’ll wake up wet, which only leads him to more of a panic. Exhaustion always seems to amplify his innate feelings of being a burden and only leads to escalating anxiety when he thinks he ‘ruined’ the nest. They’ve never gotten mad at him for it. Frustrated, inwardly yes, at their inability to heal this sweet boy from the shitty parents he had, but never at him.
Tim waking up dry is always a win in itself, but no dreams at all is beyond thrilling.
“I’m so glad,” he says sincerely. Tim purrs again at his response, resulting in Damian giving a content little chuff of his own. It’s not very loud, but Dick swears he hears Jason give a happy rumble too. “I love you, all three of you.” He says it because he can. Because he’s here, and they’re here. And he’s filled with so much fondness he’s surely going to burst with it. He’ll become a mess of love and affection and devotion to his little family and he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be. He may not be flying, but he can’t ignore the way his heart swoops at the sight of all three pups curled against him. Safe and smiling, all in the nest they made.
He really should have known the peace wouldn’t last.
All four of them flinch at the first bang on the door downstairs. He doesn’t need to tell them what to do, they know. He shifts Damian into Jason’s arms, the pacifier falling to the threadbare nest. The omega instinctively quiets the soft whimpers spilling out of the baby’s mouth with gentle crooning. Tim shuffles over immediately, knees wobbly, Jason pulling him to hide under his arm. The pup latches on immediately, hiding his ruddy face against his big brother. It’s far too reminiscent of the last time they were all together and Dick hates himself all the more for it. He doesn’t know which option is worse, that the traffickers were not in fact killed and managed to track him down, that they’re unlucky enough to get attacked by some other random alpha, or that Dick truly is an idiot and led Bruce straight to his pups.
He doesn’t know which scenario he’s most scared for and he doesn’t have time to decide before he hears the door being broken down. Not that it would be hard, but it makes his chest clench all the same. He didn’t have the energy to check their supplies last night, he doesn’t know what all Jason had grabbed. Even so, it’s not like they have a real weapon.
Their old wooden bat got broken however long ago and the knife Jason used to have got lost in the thigh of an attempted rapist several months ago. They really should have prioritized finding a new safeguard but it’s hard to find something lethal enough for the most burly of alphas while also not endangering either of the cubs.
Dick knows Jason wants to protest, demand he’s the one to go up against the intruder this time, but he doesn’t give him the chance. He’s closing the door behind him and barely making it to the stairs before he hears, “Dick, I know you’re here.”
God fucking dammit.
Dick doesn’t have to imagine the searing pain between his legs, it’s already there. And it’ll only get worse. With every stuttered step forward, he exasperates his various injuries. Further proving how incredibly stupid he is. He’s decided, the worst case scenario is definitely that he’s a fucking idiot.
He doesn’t have the time to think of a solution, a way to get the pups out, before Bruce is bounding up the stairs. He’s moving so fast and Dick can’t stumble back quick enough. He trips and before he can land painfully on his ass, Bruce is grabbing him. He yelps, pushes at his chest and the alpha simply pulls him closer. He’s trapped in a tight embrace, pressed right against the man’s chest. It’s firm enough that it aggravates the overlapping wounds on his back. He can only hope the lacerations don’t open back up. He’s already bled so much, he doesn’t know how much he has left to give.
It takes him several seconds to compute, giving Bruce the opportunity to say, “I was so worried. You can’t do that, I thought you got kidnapped again. You can’t just leave like that.” The alpha is still wearing his patches so he can’t get a trace of his scent, of his true emotions. His sincerity or lack thereof.
He forces the words past his swelling throat. “I’m sorry,” he can only pray he sounds more genuine than he feels. It tastes sour in his mouth and he can only hope his scent is a better actor, that he can smell pretty and obedient. He can only pray that he doesn’t clock the smell of pup immediately, but he knows there’s no true hiding it. Even if Dick pumped his scent out as much as his body could bear, there’s no masking the skin deep layer of puppy pheromones blanketing his body. He doesn’t know what’s more terrifying, Bruce getting a whiff of pup or of another omega. He doesn’t know how far this son roleplay will go, if he’ll take advantage of more kids at the ready for his big happy family, or if he’ll want to kill the competition.
“I…” Bruce sighs, a horrible sound. “I’m not angry with you. Just promise me that you won’t run away again. My heart can’t take another scare like that.” He dares to sound like he cares when he’s actively destroying everything Dick has been fighting so hard for. Dick has to gulp down oxygen while he’s allowed the privilege, pray it eases the simmering rage in his belly. “Come on, Alfred’s in the car.” He doesn’t even wait for a response.
What. Could they have known? They must have smelled pack on him last night, or caught sight of Jason’s nip if his collar shifted. They had to have known he’d run. That he’d have somewhere to go back to. Even if he wasn’t followed directly, they must have known the right steps to take to find him. Dick miscalculated. He led him straight to his nestlings. Even if Bruce didn’t know about them before, he has to know now. And yet, he’s pulling him away. He knows, and he still doesn’t care. How can he expect him to leave them behind? So caught up in his own loneliness he doesn’t care to allow Dick to have his own family? He just expects Dick to leave them all behind?
He can’t. He won’t. Even if he’s punished for it he can’t leave them.
Bruce is already bodily turning them towards the door, ready to herd him out and away from his cubs. He shakes his head, cursing his voice for quivering when he says, “no, no, I can’t.” Bruce stops, as does his heart. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I can’t go back, though.” He sounds so fucking pathetic, blubbering before an alpha, but he can’t stop.
He’s facing him now, and Dick doesn’t let his cowardice show, forces himself to make eye contact with the alpha. He pretends the height difference between them doesn’t intimidate him. He’s not wearing that strange suit this time, no mask to obscure his frustration. “I’m not letting you stay here.” There’s something to his voice. It’s not an actual Alpha Command, but something akin to it. An underlying threat to obey, to be a good little omega. If there’s anything Dick has ever been good at, it’s being a disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. Anything to pacify him. Anything to keep the grip on his arm from turning cruel. “Thank you for saving me.” The words are acid against his teeth. He doesn’t even know if they have running water to rinse out the aftertaste. “Thank you for allowing your beta to dress my wounds. I am indebted to you, but I can’t go with you.” It’s a dangerous ploy, a gamble at best. But if there’s anything honorable about him, maybe he’ll let Dick pay him back in some other way. Anything other than taking him away.
Bruce is shaking his head even before he finishes talking, stomping any traitorous hope to the ground. “That’s the problem, you are not indebted to me.” There’s a growl to his words and Dick can only hope the cubs can’t hear from where they’re hiding. “Dick, you’re my son. It’s my job to take care of you, and I failed. Let me fix that now.” There’s a desperation to the way he says it, making him even more lethal than before. Dick clenches his hands to keep from doing something moronic.
Dick can’t back down. No matter how looming he is, he can’t cower away now. “If you truly do care for me, please let me go.” He’ll drop to his knees if he needs to, anything for his boys. He’ll turn around and present if that’s what he’s after, so long as the door stays closed. As long as the little ones don’t see, he’ll do anything at all. Even if he’s torn and bloodied and ruined, he’ll take it all.
Bruce almost sounds apologetic, even as he shatters the withering hope left inside him. “I let them take you once, I can’t allow that to happen again. You’ll understand, once you remember.” He wants to scream. To shout and holler and keen and beg this fucking alpha to give up on the game already. Dick isn’t playing. He can’t tell if this man is genuinely delusional enough to think Dick could ever truly belong to him, or if he just doesn’t care. Now that he has his eyes on him, he won’t let the claim drop. Even if there was some edge of truth to his story, ripping him away from his pack is just about the worst way to go about taking him in. If he truly wants Dick to be his son, then why the fuck is he being such an intolerable asshole about it?
“Please, please,” he’s not above begging, no matter how much it grates on his fraying nerves. He doesn’t let the frustration show, forces his scent lighter, more pitiful. He’s not above anything if it lets him stay with his pups. “I’ll do anything, just let me go. Please, alpha, I’ll be good.”
“What could possibly…” he cuts himself off. He visibly inhales, nose twitching. Dick knows the second he smells puppy. As it is, he’s astounded that he didn’t notice it sooner. He turns then, a man on a mission and no matter how harshly Dick pulls against him he can’t keep him from approaching their door. His boney frame is nothing but an inconvenience against the overwhelming bulk of the alpha.
“Wait, stop. Alpha, wait,” he pleads, shoving his way between his cubs and the alpha. He’s not to be deterred, simply pushing ahead. Dick makes a noise halfway between a whine and a growl, begging and threatening all at once.
Bruce opens the door, only pausing at the absolutely ferocious snarl Jason releases. He’s only ever heard that noise when faced with potential rapists and traffickers, and he supposes Bruce isn’t anything more than. Dick spares them a single glance, revealing his fellow omega standing in front of the little ones. Tim is openly crying, holding a sobbing Damian in his arms best he can when he’s shaking so terribly.
He never wanted this for them, he never wanted them to be so fucking scared. He never wanted Jason to have to be the last line of defense. All because Dick was too stupid to keep his kidnapper from tracking him down.
Bruce scans each of the boys, undeterred by Jason’s continuous growling or Dick’s begging. He sniffs the air again, before turning back to Dick. “They’re yours?” He can’t make out his tone, can hardly hear anything past his own rapid breathing.
He can’t hide his tremble anymore. “Yes, alpha.”
Bruce nods, takes a deep breath, then, “bring them with.”
“What?”
He can’t process. He can’t think. He can’t comprehend what the fuck is happening. Jason hasn’t stopped growling. The room is so overloaded by terrified, angry scents that even if Dick was still trying to gain appeal with his pheromones it wouldn’t matter. There wouldn’t be anything discernible past the rotting milk and burnt cherries.
Bruce doesn’t snap at him, despite all the reasons to. He almost sounds resigned when he asks, “they’re why you won’t come with me, aren’t they?” Again, he can’t tell what emotion is lacing his words, nor his intention behind it. If this is an excuse to punish the pups instead of Dick, if he is somehow precious to the man as his stand-in son, or if he genuinely wants to know.
“Well-” he’s not even sure where he was going with the thought before getting interrupted.
“Then bring them with.” He says it simply. “I lost you once already, Dick. I’m not losing you again,” he takes a breath when he seems to get too worked up, earning another hiss from Jason. It’s lower this time, like the omega is actually listening to what Bruce is saying. “Pack up your nest.”
All three pups turn to him, looking to their pack leader for guidance and Dick just, he doesn’t know. Begging isn’t working. He doesn't know what to offer him in front of the boys. He’d do it, anything he asked of him, give his entire body, but not in front of them. He can’t do that to them. But he also can’t willingly take an omega and two puppies to an alpha’s den. An alpha who already kidnapped him once. Even under the guise of ‘saving’ him, Dick was just as unwilling. Dick would take those traffickers again if it meant his pups remained untouched.
He won’t be able to protect them there, not in Bruce’s territory. But he won’t be able to do anything separated. Their pack, it works because it has both Dick and Jason. One to stay with the babies and one to go gather supplies. If Dick gets taken now, permanently, they’ll fall apart. They could never expect Tim to take care of Damian on his own. The toddler is hardly more than a nestling and Tim isn’t far past that. They’re too young to be away from their mama, their den.
Maybe if Bruce purely wants Dick as a son, he can withstand a few more kids. Better yet, if all the focus is on Dick maybe he’ll leave them alone entirely. It’s a foolish thought, but he doesn’t know what else to think. He still doesn’t know what this alpha’s game is, he doesn’t know his temperament or rules. He doesn’t know what he’d be bringing his boys into. He doesn’t know how to make his head stop fucking hurting already so he can think clearly.
He doesn’t know what’s a worse fate, entrapping his family with what could very well be a rapist, or leaving them behind to potentially starve or be otherwise kidnapped. It’s an unknown either way, it’s just if Dick is there or not, and how directly at fault he is. He couldn’t live with himself either way, if something happened to them because of this. Jason is capable, very much so, but he’s only one boy. He can’t be expected to do everything. He can’t bring the pups with him when he shoplifts food and supplies, and he can’t leave them behind either.
Jason trills, a far too vulnerable sound in front of a practical stranger and Dick wants to snap his teeth at him, quiet him down. But he knows what he means, it’s permission. If Dick thinks this is the way, Jason will follow. Jason will have his back.
It’s what he needed to hear.
He forces the words past gritted teeth. He knows he doesn’t sound as grateful as he ought to to avoid discipline. “Okay.” He quickly adds on, “thank you, alpha.”
He sighs heavily. “Bruce is still fine.” He looks around the room and then asks. “Do you need help packing?” He doesn’t hide the way he glares at his surroundings, openly judging the moldy ceiling and the holes in the walls. It’s rather audacious to be judging their den when he’s surely never had to choose between food and medicine, shelter and scavenging. He has no right.
Dick shakes his head, hating the way his brain seems to knock against his skull at the small action. “No, thank you. We got it.” He blinks away the dizziness.
“I’ll be right outside the door.” And then he turns, stepping out of the room, just like that. Bruce doesn’t close the door, but it’s more privacy than he could have hoped for. He shouldn’t be surprised that he wouldn’t trust Dick not to run again. If given the chance, he’d scale the side of the building even with two pups in tow. He’d figure it out, if he had the opportunity. As it is, he needs to make use of the small freedom.
The second Bruce is past the threshold Dick is stumbling forward. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, low enough the alpha hopefully won’t hear. “It’s all my fault, I was wrong. It’s my fault. Puppies, I’m so sorry.” He could apologize a thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough to encompass the full capacity of his guilt.
“Hey, stop berating yourself,” there’s still a growl to Jason’s words, on edge with their new alpha so close. But it’s not mean, not as harsh as Dick deserves. “We can’t change it now. It’s better this way, to stay together,” he leaves no room for argument in his voice. Jason is good at that, sounding so sure of himself that it’s hard not to believe him, that maybe everything isn't completely fucked. “The quicker we pack the quicker we can figure out an escape plan.”
God, Dick loves him so much. He loves all his boys, fervently and infinitely, and fuck he couldn’t do this without Jason. Without his steady presence, he would have fallen apart a long time ago. He never would have made it, never would have been able to take care of Damian, wouldn’t have even met Tim. He can’t do any of this without Jason. He’s always been the strong one. Dick may be the eldest but Jason has always been the glue of the family.
He spares a moment to hug them close, all three of them. He wraps them in his arms and wishes he was big enough to cover them all up, protect them from any lingering gazes. He rubs his wrists over each of their throats, kisses their heads, and it’s still not enough. There’s not enough time. Both the little ones are still crying and honestly, Dick isn’t far behind. He won’t let himself, no. He needs to be strong. He needs to be in control, in whatever capacity that he can. It’ll only frighten the pups more if they see their pack omega falling apart.
Packing up is the easy part. It’s well practiced, folding the blankets in a way that they’re wrapped into one easy to carry sack, allowing them to fill it with the rest of their meager belongings. Turns out there’s only two diapers left anyway. Not enough to even get through the rest of the day.
Jason slings the blanket-bag over his shoulder, freeing a hand up to carry Tim. Dick presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek in silent gratitude, the omega not needing to be asked to know Dick wouldn’t be able to hold their belongings as well as one of the kiddos. Tim might be small for his age, but a single night's rest isn’t enough to restore Dick’s already limited strength. He can’t risk dropping him. So he scoops up Damian, allowing the toddler to hide against his chest with heartbreaking sobs. Nothing he can do or say will be enough to calm him. He tries pressing the pacifier to his lips but he’s bawling too hard to latch on. All he can do is rub his back, pocket the soother, and allow their new alpha to lead them to the car.
As he said, Alfred is waiting in the car. Perhaps this wasn’t one long-winded plot because he looks properly shocked to see the three extra boys. Jason stays pressed to his side, Tim reaching a hand out to clutch at Dick’s shirt. He allows him, not daring to ruin what little comfort he has left. Bruce opens the trunk, politely ignoring Jason’s warning snarl when he tries to take the sack from him. He doesn’t get punished though for his insolence, the alpha simply allowing Jason to swing the blanket off his shoulder and dump it into the car.
There’s no car seats, not that they should have expected there to be. It just gives them an excuse to hold both puppies. Jason slides into the middle, pressed firmly against Dick, clutching Tim in his arms. Damian won’t stop wailing and even if Dick could find the words to apologize, he doesn’t think he’d be heard. The vehicle fills immediately with their distressed scents enough that Alfred opens the front windows, clearly not trusting them to not try to make a jump for it. Tempting, but not feasible. They’d only get more hurt, and they can’t afford any more injuries as it is. He can’t risk any harm to his babies.
No one tries to say anything the entire ride, beyond Dick’s gentle shushing in a futile attempt to quiet the toddler. Tim cries himself out quicker than he expected, only to squirm uncomfortably in his brother’s hold. It’s then that Dick remembers that this all happened before they officially got out of bed. Tim is a kid who has to go potty as soon as he wakes up, if they don’t get to a bathroom soon they’ll only have another offense to add to the list of punishable crimes. Dick squeezes his hand in silent reassurance. Jason makes eye contact, seeming to have come to the same conclusion.
They’ll have a lot of work to do, if they’re allowed. They didn’t get a chance to change Dami’s diaper either. Maybe that was part of Bruce’s plan, catch them unawares and even more vulnerable than normal. Dick can only pray they’ll allow him to acquire more diapers. While they have begun potty training him, it’s inconsistent at best with all their moving, especially when half the places they crash in have shoddy plumbing at best. He probably won’t go anyway, not when there’s an alpha prowling the house. If he can get pee shy with just his own family around, there’s no way he won’t have accidents in a totally new and intimidating environment if they suddenly try undies with him. So diapers it’ll have to be, if they are given the luxury.
Dick can’t help his overwhelming wave of regret, nauseating and cloying. There’s no way to know definitively if this was the worse decision, and yet he fears he knows the answer.
Damian has mostly cried himself out by the time they arrive at the mansion, finally willing to suckle on the pacifier. Their momentary peace doesn’t last long, their scents swelling with anxiety as they park. Alfred exits the car first, opening the door on Dick’s side. As much as he knows he shouldn’t hesitate, he just can’t help himself.
It’s not until Jason gives him a nudge that he forces himself out of the car, body protesting the movement. He really shouldn’t be carrying anyone, but he couldn’t dare put Damian down now, not when his heart-wrenching sobs have finally reduced to stray whimpers and small sniffles. He pushes past the infuriating pain enveloping his entire body and clutches the puppy close. Dami noses at his neck, pressing right against the collar, where his scent is strongest. He just wishes it was sweeter, more soothing, easier to breathe in.
When Jason takes a step away Dick can’t hold back his mewl, instincts haywire and raw. With Tim still held tight, he approaches the trunk, only for it to not open. Jason growls, turning to their owner, “open it!” He snaps, too loud, disobedient. Dick stumbles forward. One hand coming to clutch at the omega’s arm. “Give us our stuff back,” Jason demands, like he has any right to.
Bruce doesn’t look as angry as he ought to, simply shaking his head. “I have to go through your belongings first, make sure there’s nothing that could hurt you.”
Despite Dick’s low chuffing, a futile attempt to quiet down his packmate, Jason still snarls, “what the fuck? You have no right, that’s ours! How are we supposed to change the baby’s diaper if you won’t give us the fucking stuff for it?” It has to be part of the game, some power ploy. Giving them the taste of freedom by being allowed to pack their stuff just to watch it be confiscated. It’s mean and Dick really shouldn’t have expected anything less.
Alfred speaks up, making Damian flinch in his arms. “I can provide you any supplies you may need to care for the whelps. What size is he?”
Dick’s head aches too much to make sense of everything happening. He cradles the cub close, a hand pressed to the back of his head, guiding him back towards his scent gland. Damian nuzzles the skin there, pressing his nose flush against his neck and breathing in his pack omega’s protective pheromones. He knows he needs to respond, but Jason is still yelling at Bruce and Tim has started bawling again and Alfred is trying to ask more questions and it’s all too much. He squeezes the puppy, as if he could pull him any closer, and reminds himself to breathe.
Bruce’s voice reigns out, all alphan dominance, successfully shutting everyone up, “enough. Inside the den, all of you.” His voice leaves no room for argument, just enough of a Command that not even Jason can protest. Both omegas walk side by side, shoulders brushing as they enter their new territory. The door locks behind them, and he has to bite down the pathetic whine that threatens to escape. Dick did this to himself, afterall, he has no right to complain.
Alfred breaks the tense silence they’d fallen into, “I will give the young masters a tour.” Dick knows immediately what this is, and he has to fight his every instinct not to react. To not give into the choking terror threatening to overtake him. Jason turns to him, eyes narrowed in a silent question, scrutinizing him. Dick nods, acting much braver than he feels. He gives permission to leave him behind. Jason adjusts his hold on Tim, shifting him to one hip so he can free an arm to hold Damian too. He won’t be able to carry them both for long, but hopefully they’ll be allowed to rest soon. Tim’s crying will only kick up again if he’s forced to walk after them.
Bruce doesn’t say anything even after the beta has led his packmates away, down the corridor and out of sight. Dick speaks up first, voice wobbly with barely concealed desperation, “please, don’t punish them. I’ll get Jason to behave, I promise, just please don’t hurt them.” It’s easier to beg when he doesn’t have the little ones listening, when they can’t see what’s become of their pack leader. When Bruce doesn’t respond, he continues, “I’ll take any punishment, I’ll take it all. Just leave them to me, I’ll keep them contained. They’ll be good. I’ll be good, I promise. Please, please.”
When Bruce speaks, it’s with a long-winded sigh, and Dick couldn’t contain his rotting fear even if he tried. “I won’t hurt you.” He’s shaking so horribly he fears he’ll collapse even before the first hit. He can’t blink fast enough to keep the tears at bay.
“Please,” he gasps, not them, not his babies.
Bruce cuts him off before he can pick up his begging, his own scent finally breaching the patches and swelling richly with a cinnamon warm possessiveness. “I won’t lay a hand on any of you. You’re my son, Dick, my pup.” He takes another steadying breath. “That makes them my pack, too. I won’t hurt pack.” Dick’s scent doesn't sweeten in relief, a sour sort of confusion taking its place. The alpha doesn’t look angry, at least. “How can I prove that I won’t cause harm to any of you?”
Dick takes the chance he’s given, prays he won’t be reprimanded for it. “Collars, for all three of them. Ones neither you or your beta can remove. Please.”
He nods, almost like he was expecting the answer. “Like the one you have,” he gestures towards Dick’s throat and he can’t help but recoil, even if he doesn’t try to touch. Bruce speaks slowly, deliberately, “you know, I gave you that collar.”
It doesn’t bring any of the relief the man must expect. Dick can’t help but tense, “so you know how to take it off?” He doesn’t allow himself to back away, doesn’t allow himself the weakness.
“I know how but I can’t.” Dick doesn't get the chance to call him out on his bullshit before he explains, “it’s specially designed so that only the wearer is able to remove it. I can get one for your omega, but I’ll have to get something more breathable for the pups.” As much as it makes his stomach clench, he was expecting as much. It’s not good for cubs to have something stifling their glands, it makes them prone to rash. They’re sensitive enough as it is, he won’t dare cause them more discomfort.
Dick swallows down the worst of his fear, and grits out, “okay. Thank you.”
Bruce nods, suddenly looking much more tired than he did mere minutes ago. “If you can write up a list of anything you or your packmates may need, I’ll have Alfred bring you the supplies.”
“How do I repay you?” He forces the question out, past his ever growing nausea and squeezing chest.
There’s a growl to his words, harsh enough Dick dares take a step back. It won’t protect him, but he can’t bring himself to stay so close to a clearly irritated alpha. “There’s no repaying, I’m your pack alpha. You’re mine to provide for, your pups included.” He doesn’t use a full on Alpha Command, but Dick couldn’t dare argue with it anyway. His instincts screaming at him to tilt his chin, submit. “I will do whatever I can to take care of you. Anything you could need or want, write it down and we will get it for you.”
“Yes, alpha,” he agrees, far too meek. He winces when he realizes his transgression, but thankfully he isn’t scolded for it.
Bruce stares at him for a moment, assessing, before he says, “I bet Alfred led the puppies to the kitchen.” And then he starts walking, assuming Dick will follow. He hates himself a bit for obeying, even though he knows he has to. If not for his own safety, then for the babies. They’re left in an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Bruce asks, “is there anything else I need to know right away?” Dick must show his confusion because he clarifies, “any immediate necessities, medications, anything?”
Before he can psych himself out, he admits, “Tim, he uh- he has a shellfish allergy.” It’s a gamble, he knows, to confess such a vital weakness. To admit something that could so easily kill his cub, but Bruce seemed earnest enough. He still has the stupid blockers on but with these elevated emotions his scent has been subtly leaking through. He can’t get much of a read on the cinnamon, but it doesn’t smell like a lie.
Bruce nods, guiding him down another hall. “I’ll inform Alfred. Is there anything else?” His voice is level, unangry.
“No, al- Bruce. Thank you.” It would be futile to bring up the diapers again, too big of a risk after Jason yelled at him about it. He’ll have to add it to the list and hope they’re provided.
There’s nothing more to say until they enter the kitchen. As he suspected, the boys are there. Though Tim is sitting in his own chair, he’s pressed so firmly against Jason’s side that he might as well be in his lap. Dick gives them a once over, but finds no obvious injuries or distress. Tim’s face is still ruddy but no longer wet with fresh tears. When he looks up he gives Dick the biggest beaming smile and something unclenches from Dick’s chest. Suddenly unbalanced, he stumbles forward.
Jason looks just as decently, eyes clear, though sitting at full attention. Still ready, waiting for anything to go wrong. Any reason to need to guard the little ones. He cradles Damian in his arms, the baby drinking out of a lidded coffee cup. Dick blanches at the sight, obvious enough that Jason rolls his eyes. “It’s not coffee,” he says, continuing to help the toddler feed. When Dick looks back over at Tim, the kiddo is drinking greedily from his own cup of milk, a bit dribbling down his chin when he goes too fast.
It’s instinctual, coming up and swiping the mess off of his chin with a gentle caress of his thumb. It almost feels normal, and then Alfred pipes up from where he is chopping fruit at the counter. “I apologize, Master Dick, we had no other suitable cups for the baby. I will be sure to acquire some sippy cups to remedy the issue.”
“Oh, uh, it’s alright.” He eases Tim’s cup out of his hand, quieting his whine with a kiss to the temple before scooping him up. He settles back down, puppy in his lap, pressed right against Jason. Right where he should be. He gives the cup back easily, helping him drink slower, both so he doesn’t dampen his shirt and so he doesn’t make his tummy unwell. Looking over at the toddler, he can’t help but agree an actual sippy would be easier. While he’s been trying to teach him how to use a real cup, he’s still rather messy. He wouldn’t want him to get scolded by the butler if he spills all over himself.
Well aware of the alpha still looming from the other side of the kitchen, he holds the pup close. Both boys smell calmer now that they have warm milk in their bellies. He subtly reaches over, finding Damian’s diaper to be dry. He makes eye contact with his fellow omega, who gives an almost indiscernible shake of the head. He lets the subject drop, not wanting to do anything to ruin the relative peace they’ve found themselves in.
Bruce steps forward and Dick hates the way Jason tenses beside him. Both puppies must feel it too because Damian’s scent sours. His brother thumbs at his developing gland, trying to ease him back to a content sweetness. Tim doesn’t sour but he does stop drinking, watching everyone in the room carefully. Bruce, either unaware of the turmoil he’s causing or simply uncaring, rifles through a drawer before producing a pad and pen. He places the notebook down, sliding the materials over to Dick. He must be more exhausted than he thought because for a moment he forgot what was expected of him.
He only has to think for a few seconds before he remembers, but even that feels like a transgression. He opens it to a blank page, wanting to explain to Jason but unsure if he’s allowed. This was his assignment, afterall, and Bruce is staring at him so intently. He can’t do anything to fuck it up. So he takes pen to paper and begins writing all the things he’d had to steal to provide for his boys. Diapers and wipes and clothing. He even adds their sizes of clothing, praying it won’t be too much. That this isn’t a simple ruse to see how greedy he is.
Jason seems to pick up on what he’s doing but thankfully doesn’t question it. He simply encourages Dami to finish the milk, knowing how much the baby needs it. He’s much too small, despite their best efforts to keep him well fed. Tim is too, short and scrawny and far too easy for anyone to overpower.
The moment Dick lays the pen down, beside Tim’s forgotten cup, Bruce steps forward and takes it. He doesn’t even look at the paper, just grabs it. “I’ll be sure to get delivery first thing.” He shouldn’t even be disappointed that no one will leave the manor, that the doors will remain locked. “I had already asked a doctor friend of mine to stop by tomorrow, she’ll give the pups a check up before your tests.” It takes him even longer to remember this time, brain foggy with all the recent chaos.
It’s Jason who says, “what tests?” Right. Dick neglected to tell him that part, that Bruce is determined to cure his memory loss. As if Dick himself hasn’t been trying to remember for as long as he’s realized there was something forgotten, something lost to him.
Bruce doesn’t show any impatience at the unauthorized question. “Brain scans, blood tests, anything that can give insight to the extent of the amnesia.” Jason’s jaw clenches but his hands stay gentle as he cradles Damian. He’s finished his milk and now sitty rather sleepily against his brother's chest. His blinks draw longer and longer but he keeps forcing them open. Dick wants to tell him that it’s okay, to let go, but he can’t. Not with the alpha right there. Jason notices, of course he does, and he pulls the pacifier from his pocket and presses the bulb to the baby’s lips. With a small whine Dami begins suckling on the soother, allowing it to ease him into relaxation.
Only once Damian has settled, eyes bleary with clear sleepiness, does Jason ask, “what will the check up entail?”
Bruce leans against the counter, looking far too casual for how rimrod straight his spine is. “Just the normal stuff. Height, weight, lungs, all of that.”
“You say that like we’ve all had the luxury of regular doctor visits,” Jason spits out, venomous. Dick grasps at his hand, squeezing in a silent retribution. He opens his mouth like he’s about to continue but another harsh clench from Dick has him snapping his mouth closed with an angry click of the teeth. Timmy curls up further in his lap, hiding against his omega.
Bruce doesn’t yell, doesn’t even raise his voice. “You’re right, I shouldn’t assume. That changes now though, you don’t have to worry about wanting for anything. I’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you,” Dick blurts out before Jason can say anything else foolish.
Alfred chooses then to present them with a beautiful charcuterie board, laid with various foods cut small enough for Damian to eat without trouble. He perks up a bit at the sight of such abundance, hunger overtaking his tiredness. It’s not yet their normal nap time but he doesn’t blame the boy for being sleepy. Bruce leaves them to eat, notebook in hand, allowing them to actually get their fill without anxiety nauseating them too terribly. Both omegas help feed the little ones, ensuring they’re sated before quelling their own hunger. Though he knows he should be more cautious of drugs or otherwise tampering with the food, he can’t pass up the opportunity. He can’t recall the last time all four of them have been full. Let alone with fresh produce.
When both puppies are beginning to doze, Alfred says, “although we do not have any nurseries, I can prepare some bedrooms for the pups.”
Dick doesn’t bother thinking it through before asking, “can they stay with me? Please? We won’t be any trouble, I promise, can we please just stay together?” It’s less humiliating to beg when it’s only Jason to witness, the pups too out of it with exhaustion. Jason may not like his pleading but he knows he won’t judge, he couldn’t, not when Dick knows he’d do the same thing if it came down to it.
Alfred smiles, something sad but no less kind, “very well. I will be sure to provide more blankets and such so you can build a larger nest.” This time, even Jason thanks him, his relief evident. He waits patiently for them to finish up, watches as they bundle the pups in their arms. Jason pauses a moment, offering to switch kiddos, but Dick declines. He couldn’t bear putting Timmy down now, not when he’s snuggling so nicely. He can handle carrying the pup up the stairs. He can push past the pain, he always has before.
Bruce doesn’t show back up, allowing Alfred to lead them upstairs. Jason looks just as awed when he’s met with what is supposedly Dick’s childhood bedroom. He knows better than to say anything in front of the beta, simply giving a quiet thank you when he offers any further services. With that, Alfred makes his leave. This time, Dick does lock the door behind him. If there is a punishment for this, he’ll take it. As long as it means his boys are safe, even for just a few minutes longer.