Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the first time since arriving at Wayne Manor, Tim wakes up in less pain than he went to bed with. It’s not an entirely unfamiliar scenario, but uncommon enough to make him pause. He takes a deep breath and he’s met with a warm influx of love-honey-sleep-claiming-pack. 

He’s allowed the rare indulgence of being able to roll over without dampness irritating his ever-present rash. Tim suspects the only reason he woke up dry is because Dick got him up halfway through the night to go potty. He has a bleary recollection of the omega gently running his fingers through his hair, cooing at him that it’s time to wake up. That he only needs to get up for a couple minutes and then they could snuggle. Tim had let out a petulant whine, too tired to remember to stay quiet, but Dick touched him just as gingerly. When he finally managed to rouse him he led him to the bathroom.

Tim was more alert then, realizing he was dry. And that Dick was worried he wouldn’t have been. He had been too nervous to ask if Dick had already been awake or if he got up just for this. He hadn’t even attempted to question it aloud. He simply did as instructed and crawled back into the nest. Dick was waiting for him, arms open and ready to scent him.

Tim had fallen back asleep embarrassingly quickly.

Now he is once again awake and somehow still dry. Dick gave him the gift of a morning without a major transgression, he wouldn’t dare ruin it by being lazy. He does not allow himself to snuggle up against Dick. He hasn’t earned it yet. 

He drags himself from the warmth. It’s only now, awake for the second time and still dry, that he realizes Jason was never here. Tim didn’t have the mental clarity at the time to recognize the foreign emptiness to the nest but now he is hyperaware of the Jason-shaped absence. 

He has a vague memory of Dick carrying him from the den upstairs to the bedroom and he had assumed Jason followed. But for the first time, he was not a step behind his brother. Jason must have finally realized that Tim was too much trouble to bother with, even after holding him last night. Tim can’t blame him, he knows how gross he is to share a nest with. The fact that Jason had to put up with him for two whole nights says a lot about how kind he is. Tim doesn’t have time to dwell on the guilt, he needs to make sure he is on his best behavior. 

Tim goes potty quickly and quietly, not wanting to risk waking Dick. He’s lucky enough as it is that the omega allowed him back into his sanctuary, even without his nestmate there beside him. He needs to do everything he can to stay in his good graces. Maybe then he can earn back Jason’s too. 

He only debates for a moment before applying the rash cream. He pushes down the worst of the worry at not asking explicit permission first. He’s far too afraid to disobey Dr. Leslie not even twenty-four hours after she visited. Mr. Wayne had seemed earnest in wanting Tim to listen to her. He doesn’t dare go against her instructions. Dr. Leslie is the only one who has given him clear parameters so far. If he disobeys clear rules like that, the Wayne’s will never trust that he can be obedient. 

Once he’s all cleaned up he crawls back into the nest, tucking himself in as close to Dick as he can get without actually touching him. Even without contact, just breathing in Dick’s honey scent is enough to soothe him.

Tim closes his eyes, trying to fall back asleep. He won’t be able to ask about Jason until Dick is awake and he already knows how he feels about time-outs so there’s no reason to even try. He’s hardly brave enough to go looking for the omega on his own, best wait for Dick to rouse. Sleep should come easy with how stingy and swollen his eyes are, but his body feels all anxious-jittery. He resists the urge to roll over again, worried if he rustles the nest too much that Dick will be cranky from getting woken up early. 

He needs to keep quiet. His fingers are still sore from how roughly he’s been chewing on them lately and before he can think better of it he begins nibbling on the stuffed kitty’s tail. His teddy doesn’t have a long tail and even if it did he doesn’t gnaw on the plushie all that often. It doesn’t taste very yummy, all dust and sour milk. The kitty though, even after all the panic at lunch yesterday, still smells sweeter than anything in Drake Manor. It’s almost like Dick scented it on purpose for him, but Tim isn’t dumb enough to believe that. Likely it was incidental scenting from being carried. Even though it’s a stuffed animal, he’s sure his Mommy would find a way to say it’s too sugary to nibble on.

He’s not sure how long he waits, only the borrowed kitty for company, before Dick begins to stir. Tim quickly removes the toy from his mouth, using his sleeve in a vain attempt to dry the evidence of his drool. He’s such a dummy, ruining the gift his friend gave him. If they’re even friends anymore, after Tim messed things up again and again. 

Dick gives a big stretch before turning towards Tim with a soft smile. “Morning, Timmy. How’d you sleep?” 

Tim can’t help but grin back, so very relieved that the omega doesn’t completely hate him yet. He doesn’t know how long it’ll last but he’ll relish in every moment until it’s ripped away. “Good,” he says. And it’s true. Any dry night is a good night. “What about you?”

Dick talks through a yawn, “Pretty good. Still a little tired though. We should have some time before breakfast though, wanna cuddle until we have to get up?”

It’s too good to be true. There has to be some trick to it, some consequence for Jason being elsewhere, but Tim can’t find it when he’s just as tired and just as needy. He can’t help himself. “Yes, please,” he whispers, half begging. 

“C’mere,” Dick calls, a purr lacing his words. He lifts an arm and Tim wriggles closer, pressed up right against his side. Dick rubs his wrist over the expanse of his back, spreading honeycomb-adoration-wildflowers-sleepy-pack-hereherehere over his ribs and his spine. Tim leans into the touch with a purr of his own, half stifling it under the kitty’s fur. 

Tim nuzzles in, knowing he’s not the one Dick should actually be cuddling but far too selfish to back away now. 

It’s only when Alfred beckons them for breakfast that Tim realizes the full gravity of his mistake. With Dick here giving into Tim’s neediness there’s no one there to protect Jason. The little omega alone, very likely with Mr. Wayne. Tim knows exactly what happens when an omega is left all alone with a pack alpha. 

Any marks left behind will be because of Tim. Because he was such an awful puppy that Jason couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as him. The very same reason that his Mommy and Daddy insist upon their business trips. He only hopes Jason doesn’t hurt too terribly. He doesn’t even have a teddy to provide solace in the aftermath. Tim knows the stuffie isn’t his to lend, but maybe Dick will allow him to pass on the kitty to Jason, allowing him some comfort and solace in the aftermath, when the pain is too much to bear. 

His worry must taint his scent because Dick noses at his hair, asking a quiet, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

Tim has to know, despite the very punishable consequences it may lead to. “Do you think- is, um. Is Jason mad at me?” It’s an easier inquiry to form the shape of than asking what implement he thinks Mr. Wayne is using upon his little brother. 

Dick’s scent immediately grows sad in a way that has Tim wanting to back away, to put some distance between their bodies. He doesn’t, knows better by now, but the instinct is there. To bare his throat and flee, to find a small place to hide if he has the time. 

“No, puppy, Jason isn’t mad. He just,” he takes a breath, “He needs some support sometimes. He decided he wanted to sleep in our dad’s nest last night.”

Tim’s stomach swells three sizes at the same time his lungs shrink just as drastically. 

Tim does put some space between them this time, all too aware of how nauseating his pheromones are when they rot like this. As if a carton of milk was left open in the summer heat. Tim knows what it means for Jason to spend the night with Mr. Wayne and it jolts terror through him like he was injected with it. Thinking about what Jason had to endure last night while Tim was selfishly taking advantage of his big brother is enough to make vomit rise in the back of his throat. It’s only the thought of Dick attempting to clean up the mess that stops him from actually throwing up. 

Dick sits up, scent pumping out purposefully calm and soothing, the honey taking on an earthier sort of cadence. It does nothing to ease the overwhelming guilt flooding through Tim. This is his fault, he knows it just as surely as he knows that he’s a bad pup. A bad boy. A bad friend who got Jason alone with Mr. Wayne, in his bed.

Tim’s Daddy doesn’t have a nest, but he’s sure it’s all the same. The same sort of punishment. He’s not sure what Jason did that was so horrible to take the discipline in his stead but Tim is sure it’s his own fault. It always is.

“Jay is safe, Timmy. I wouldn’t let him go somewhere I knew he’d be hurt.” Tim looks at Dick and he seems so genuine, so honest. And Tim cannot tell if he’s really that good of a liar, or truly dumb enough to believe that his own daddy wouldn’t hurt an omega pup. 

“It’s like- you know how sometimes you need a cuddle? Sometimes you just need someone to take care of you, that’s what dad is doing for Jay.”

Oh, it’s even worse than Tim thought. It must be one of those special punishments as well as a spanking. It’s a torturous combination. Tim hopes Jason won’t bleed too terribly. 

Tim doesn’t understand how Daddy expects him to present as an alpha when he treats him like an omega. 

When Tim can not find the proper words to express just how regretful he is to put Jason through such obvious agony, Dick continues, “I know it’s hard to understand, but Jason is safe. I’ve spent plenty of nights in the pack nest without being hurt over it.”

Oh, that’s so much worse. Tim’s heard about pack nests before and admittedly, in the few storybooks he was allowed to read, they sounded lovely. A grand expanse of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, large enough for the whole pack to lie intertwined and snuggled in. It sounded dreamlike, to have so many people willing to touch and to scent and to embrace. To want and to be wanted in return. 

Tim knows better now. A nest with a daddy is only a softer place to lie as he is punished. Maybe it won’t hurt as much as lying on the floor but it guarantees the blankets will be dirtied. A tragedy of its own making.

Dick keeps at it with his senseless explanations. Tim doesn’t know where he’s going with this but he braces himself. Maybe he was wrong to apply the rash cream. Maybe it’ll only piss Dick off more if he goes to spank him. He said he wouldn’t, he promised, but he wasn’t mad then. Things change when people are angry, Tim would know. His scent does not smell angry, still a sour mixture of disappointment, but he knows how quickly that could change.

Tim knows he ought to attempt comprehending but he’s too busy searching for the right words to apologize. He’s not even sure what precise rule he broke. He knows he did something wrong, but it’s hard to pinpoint the breaking point when everything he does is an offense of some sort. Whether it’s Mr. Wayne’s rules or his parent’s, everything he does is wrong.

“Jason chose to spend the night in the other nest, he wouldn’t have done that if he feared he’d be hurt. B won’t harm him, even if I’m not there to protect him, he would never lay a hand on anyone. Let alone his own pup.”

Tim doesn’t wanna be mean but maybe Dick truly is just being dumb. He’d never dare say it aloud, he doesn’t have a death wish, but he can’t help but think it. He’s not sure how else Dick could be so completely blind to what horrors his little brother must be going through. Unless he’s just so obedient that his behavior has never warranted a night with Mr. Wayne. Tim knows how much it hurts. Jason doesn’t deserve it, it’s Tim’s fault. Tim is the one who should bear the burden. 

Dick doesn’t reach out but he twitches like he wants to. He glances down at the kitty stuffie and Tim has the ridiculous urge to hide it. To shove the plushie between the blankets and get rid of any evidence of his primitive pupish instincts. He doesn’t dare do anything so suspicious, and in turn Dick does not lunge for him or for the kitty. 

Dick takes a breath, forces a smile, and asks, “Why don’t we get ready for breakfast and then you can see that Jason is okay?” It’s not like Tim has a choice but he agrees anyway. Whatever it takes to keep Dick talking to him so tenderly. Whatever he needs to ensure Dick will treat him gently. Tim can handle so much worse but he is so tired, and he doesn’t want to bear any more, please. 

They get ready quietly, none of that underlying purring Tim has embarrassingly grown accustomed to. Tim picks out his own clothes this time, though he wishes he hadn’t if only they’d have been softer. He doesn’t understand how all of Jason’s hand-me-downs are so cozy when his own wardrobe is nothing but scratchy-ouchie-yuck. 

He sits on the edge of the nest, hugging the kitty plushie, waiting for Dick to finish changing clothes. When he hears Dick seeming to wrap up his morning routine he gives a kiss to the kitty’s nose. For it’s not his toy and he’s not allowed to take it. That would be stealing. He ignores the clinginess urging him to just bring the stuffie with and instead tucks it into the nest. He makes sure the kitty is safe between the pillows, burrowed in and covered up. It helps ease a bit of his sheltering instinct, that endless need inside him to hide. It’s a pup-like sort of urge, to den in somewhere small and dark.

Tim will miss having something to hold but it’s to be expected when he had to go and ruin his teddy bear. He may have failed his teddy but he won’t make the same mistake with the kitty.

Dick gives him a warm smile, reaching a hand out, “You ready?” Tim nods, interlacing their fingers and forcing himself not to squeeze too tight. 

The omega leads him to the dining room, where the rest of the pack is already waiting. Mr. Wayne and Jason are on one side of the table, chairs pressed so close together that Jason can pillow against his alpha’s side. Mr. Wayne is running his fingers through his son’s hair, scenting him all the while. He can’t see any visible injuries but he knows that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. All of Tim’s worst owies have been easily hidden by his undies. 

Tim wishes he could hand over the cushion he’s been granted to sit on. Even if it made it harder to reach his plate, at least Jason would have something soft to lean on. He doesn’t bother asking, knowing it mustn’t be allowed. 

Tim swallows down the unidentifiable emotion welling up in his throat and sits down beside Dick. They’re having omelets today and Tim can’t. He doesn’t even know what’s in it and he knows it doesn’t matter. He can’t eat it. One look has his tummy roiling painfully. He’d rather be hungry than eat this. He’d rather stay hungry forever and ever than eat something yucky.

Tim hates hunger. He hates the ache of emptiness. But he hates this more, eating and just waiting to spit it back up.

He has learned from his mistakes. Mr. Wayne called Dr. Leslie in, he knows he’s supposed to listen to her. That must be the rule. And Tim knows how to follow rules. His Mommy and Daddy trained him well. 

They said not to eat if it hurts. This might not be shrimp but Tim knows it’ll hurt. They don’t want him to throw up again, that much is obvious. If hunger is his punishment then this is a mercy. Almost comforting in its familiarity. 

So he sits, doesn’t bother touching his food. That will only contaminate it. 

It’s Alfred who points it out first, “Master Timothy, is the meal not to your liking? I can prepare something else if you’d rather.”

Tim knows it’s impolite and Mommy would be so upset with him, but he can’t force himself to make eye contact with Alfred. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face him again after what he did to his teddy. Tim knows he deserved it, but teddy didn’t. Teddy’s only crime was being Tim’s best friend. His first friend and maybe his only. 

Eyes down, shameful and naughty, he shakes his head. “No thank you, sir.” 

They’re all staring at him and he knows it’s not necessarily a punishment but it makes his face redden all the same. Everyone’s pheromones are so heavy in the room and even that isn’t enough to cover the smell of eggs. Tim knows he needs to be grateful, but the texture is so icky. He doesn’t want to. Daddy would force the fork in his mouth until he gagged and Mommy wouldn’t let him have another meal for the whole day if he refused breakfast- but Dr. Leslie said. Mr. Wayne said. 

Maybe they’re all liars but then Tim doesn’t know how to follow their rules. He doesn’t want them to be liars. He wants to know the right things to do. He’ll follow all their parameters if only they tell him what they are. Tim can be a good boy, if they help him be. Mommy and Daddy are so good at helping him. Maybe the Wayne’s can be too. Just until their trip is over, then he can go back home.

It’ll be devastatingly lonely without teddy, but he doesn’t dare dwell on it. He’s a big boy now, he’s not even supposed to have stuffies anymore. If he breaks down now, at the dinner table for the second day in a row, it’ll be disastrous. 

Dick pipes up from his spot beside him, gentle and quiet, “It’s okay if you don’t like omelets. You liked the apple and peanut butter, right? If a meal is too much we can get you some snacks.”

That’s not the rule. If he turns down a meal then he’s not allowed to eat.

But if the Wayne’s are different, then he has to listen. He can’t dare argue with the pack omega, especially not in front of the rest of the family.

“Okay,” he says, because he’s supposed to. Good pups are agreeable, submissive. Jason eats so fast, maybe he’ll be allowed Tim’s portion of breakfast. That would be nice. Then he wouldn’t have to be hungry as well.

Dick shifts like he’s about to stand but Alfred stops him, “Stay put, my dear boy, I am perfectly capable of preparing an apple.” 

Tim sits, hands in his lap, and fervently missing his teddy bear. He waits silently, does not allow himself to stare at the way Jason is still so openly leaning against his alpha. He’s eating just as quickly, only pausing when Mr. Wayne offers him sips of milk. Tim drinks his juice, waiting to be scolded and unable to relax even when he’s not.

There’s not much to fill the uncomfortable quiet, mostly the scraping of forks against plates and the low murmurings of Mr. Wayne to Jason. It’s only when Alfred comes back with a cut up apple and a generous helping of peanut butter that Mr. Wayne finally addresses him. 

Tim hasn’t even taken a bite yet. 

“So, Timmy, I wanted to ask you what you thought about going shopping today?”

Of all the things Tim expected to hear, that wouldn’t have even made it on the list. He’s never actually been shopping. Tim knows to be grateful for what he’s given, he doesn’t get a choice for what clothes or shoes he’s allowed. The only thing he can think of that Mr. Wayne would want to buy him are the diapers, but there’s no reason Tim has to go with. Mommy just orders whatever it is he needs and that works out just fine. He’s certain he hasn’t earned a trip outside, it’s a privilege he couldn’t even fathom deserving. 

Tim shrugs, staring at the apple and hoping it won’t brown before the conversation is over. “Whatever you think is best, Mr. Wayne,” he answers, hoping it’s agreeable enough to not be scrutinized. 

Mr. Wayne does not sigh, but he does let out a very slow breath. Tim thinks it probably means the same thing. “I’m asking because I want to know what you think.” When Tim still can not think of a proper response, he continues. “I think it’s about time we get you some proper clothes, toiletries, and toys.”

Oh. Now Tim knows it really is a trick. It’s not the most clever but a mean game nonetheless. “I’m okay, sir, I have plenty. Thank you, though.” 

Dick pipes up from behind him, “Honey, every time you wear your own clothes your scent gets all sour. We want you to be comfortable, even if that means a new wardrobe.”

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to offer, but I will get you everything you could need or want,” Mr. Wayne says. He’s lying, Tim knows, but even now he can’t smell the difference in his pheromones. Maybe he’s just that bad at comprehending the nuances of scents. Maybe that too is something that makes him a bad pup. “I would be incredibly happy to be able to provide for you, in whatever capacity that may be.”

Tim knows he can’t outright refuse, but he doesn’t know another way out of this. As he stares at Mr. Wayne, the way he still has Jason cuddled up at his side, he thinks he knows the play. Tim isn’t indebted enough to them. He’s screwed up so very much, and even that isn’t enough. If Mr. Wayne wastes a bunch of money on him then he can show the receipt to his Mommy and Daddy, irrefutable proof of how greedy he is. 

Tim is not allowed to tell a grown-up no, but he can keep track of his debt. Know exactly how much he’ll have to pay back. 

So, despite the way his throat feels scratchy, phantom pains of the last meal they shared at this table, he agrees. “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

Tim looks down at his apple. The edges are already browning. He knows he can’t refuse his replacement meal but it’s more than a little tempting. He’s not sure how much his tummy can handle before he loses his fragile control. 

Mr. Wayne grins at him and he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to smile back or not. If he was, he disobeyed. “It’s my privilege. If you wanted, I'm sure Dickie or Jay would like to tag along.”

That gets him shooting his head up from the sad state of his breakfast to look between the two omegas. Jason’s plate has been cleared and he’s once again scenting his dad. When he makes eye contact, he gives him a toothy grin. “Yeah, I’m down.”

Dick agrees with his brother right away, “If you want the company, we’d be happy to join. We could even pick out some nesting supplies, if you still wanted to build one of your own.” 

Tim doesn’t get how normal both boys are acting when this is clearly a back-handed gift. Can’t they see that this perceived kindness will only bite him in the end? Don’t they care? 

Tim doesn’t know how much the growing grocery list would cost but he’s sure it’ll be immensely expensive. He’ll have to see if he can grab his notebook from his backpack to keep track of all the prices. He’s not as good at math as Daddy expects him to be but he does know how to add well. 

“Okay, thank you,” he murmurs, and he means it. He’s not sure he could get through an entire punishment with Mr. Wayne all alone, without any stuffies for comfort. 

That seems to appease the pack temporarily, allowing Tim to choke down half his apple before it’s too oxidized to be edible. Daddy would be so mad at him. 

Neither Mr. Wayne nor Alfred scold him for the waste. Alfred simply offers him a refill of juice and another snack. He thanks him but refuses, knowing he’s going to wrack up far too many costs to allow himself the indulgence. Half an apple and some peanut butter is par for the course for what his Mommy would allow him anyway. His tummy has no reason to feel so empty when he’s plenty used to the portion sizes. 

After breakfast Tim makes work of going potty and getting his shoes on, only sparing a moment to say goodbye to the kitty before going down to the car. In the commotion he forgets to snag his notebook. He’ll just have to keep track mentally. Tim knows it’s rude but he does not say goodbye to Alfred, unable to look at him without thinking of the way he so heartlessly drowned his teddy. He can only hope his Mommy and Daddy return before he’s required alone time with the beta again. 

Jason sits in the back seat with him in his own booster seat. Once they’re all settled, Dick up front in the passenger seat and Mr. Wayne driving, Jason shows him an activity he brought. Tim looks to the alpha but he shows no displeasure about Jason urging him to play. It looks almost like Mommy’s tablet but the screen is all black. Jason hands him a pen, holding one of his own, before showing him how to draw on the tablet. The colors come out all rainbow and pretty, definitely not a computer but just as fascinating. 

“C’mon, you can try and draw. It’s a bit of a drive to the superstore anyway,” he says, holding the drawing tablet between them so they can both reach. It’s awfully kind, only adding further proof to the idea that Jason did not choose to sleep in Mr. Wayne’s bed and that instead he was forced to. He can’t see how Jason could cuddle him the night before, and play with him now, but somehow be unable to bear sleeping beside him in Dick’s nest. 

“The what?” He asks, distracted by the cartoony sketch Jason is drawing of what looks like a bird. 

Jason finishes the birdie, clicks a button, and then it’s erased. The blank screen allows him to draw a line down the middle, splitting it in half so they both have room to doodle. “There’s a huge store ‘cross city that has like everything you could need. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it’s really cool.” 

Tim hums, showing he’s listening as he finally gives in to Jason’s prodding and begins his own sketch. Tim does enjoy drawing, even though it’s not something his parents approve of. If they ever catch any doodles in the margins of his schoolwork they make sure he watches as they rip it up. Forced to start over and do it properly. It’s only fair, Tim knows better than to goof off.

Mommy and Daddy aren’t here though, and with that button on the tablet any evidence can be easily rid of. 

He starts drawing his teddy. He knows it won’t look very accurate, won’t be anything to be proud of. But it’ll be his. 

“Hey, that looks really good, Timmy!” Jason says, catching the attention of the rest of the car. Tim squirms in his seat, not knowing how to respond to the unrightful excitement. “It looks just like your bear, it’s even got the ribbon.” Tim’s caught between wanting to smile at the praise and wanting to cry because of how immensely he misses his plushie.

Tim waits to be scolded, for Mr. Wayne to say that he’s not allowed to play with his son’s toy, but he doesn’t. He simply keeps chatting with Dick. Tim doesn’t bother paying attention to their conversation, too busy searching Jason’s smile. There’s no hint of anger or disgust, none of the things Tim had worried about. Maybe they can still be friends, so long as he stops wetting the bed. 

Jason somehow manages to erase his half of the tablet without ruining the drawing of teddy. He asks him if he knows how to play tic-tac-toe and that’s how they spend the rest of the drive. 

The parking lot is so big and immediately overwhelming. He looks to the large building and he fears it’ll swallow him whole. It looks almost as huge as the buildings that host the galas his parents drag him to. It looks just as suffocating. 

There’s dozens upon dozens of cars filling the entire lot, and just as many people milling about. They’re more spread out than the schmoozing crowds he’s typically forced to endure, but intimidating nonetheless. He fears he’ll be trampled before the visits end if he’s not careful. He doesn’t know the expectations for such a place. Perhaps that’s part of the game, to watch Tim crumble under the pressure of unknown expectations witnessed by more than enough people to provide evidence to his failure. 

Tim doesn’t finish the last round, letting Jason take the win. He’s long since accustomed to being the loser. He has nothing to hold onto, nothing to comfort him. And he won’t have for so long as he lives if he keeps this up. A puppy so pathetic he can’t survive without something to hold or someone to hold him. He knows he’s deserving of neither, so he shoves his fingers in his mouth to gnaw on. Even if they hit him for it, at least it’s something else to think about.

They park the car and Tim braces himself for the inevitability of his punishment. 

Chapter Text

Tim does not ask to bring Jason’s drawing tablet inside the store, despite the device likely being a much easier way to track the debt he’s about to be thrust into. That would probably be stealing somehow, and Tim knows he has more than enough misdeeds built up as it is. It’ll be tricky to add up all the prices in his head but he can do it. Even if Mommy and Daddy never know, he hopes they’d think it’s smart of him. 

Dick helps him out of the car seat when he’s staring too much at all the shoppers traversing the parking lot, his scent already souring once again. Tim mumbles something akin to an apology, flinching when Dick intertwines their fingers. Though the omega doesn’t do anything other than hold his hand, Tim is still left waiting for the pain.

Tim clenches his jaw around his fingers, fruitlessly hoping the ache will ease the worst of the boiling, bubbling over anxiety inside him. Mr. Wayne had parked the car relatively close to the store and yet there still seems to be a whole crowd meandering about. 

Walking beside Dick, pressed as close to his leg as he can get without tripping him, he keeps his head downturned. He knows better than to make eye contact with strangers. He knows this isn’t a gala but he’s sure the rules are similar. Anything to keep from making a fool of the grown-up he’s following. 

There’s so many people in the way of Tim’s non-pack and the front door and Tim can only hope they’ll ignore him. At galas he’s either paraded around like a show pony to all of Daddy’s friends or ducking his head submissively at his Mommy’s heel, like a switch turning on and off. He doesn’t know what all these strangers will think of such an unbecoming pup trailing after Mr. Wayne like a lost duckling.

“Okay,” Mr. Wayne says, swinging his and Jason’s interlocked hands in a distorted mirror of the way Tim clings to Dick. “Here’s what I’m thinking, we start with clothes and nesting supplies. Then we can go to the toys and finish up with any other essentials.” Both omegas voice their agreement, and Tim does as well, albeit quietly, knowing well enough not to argue with the alpha. He can hardly rehash the same argument without seeming a completely ungrateful pup, too naughty to even comprehend the expectation of silence. Tim may be decent at math but even he is unable to count the amount of times that a pup is better seen, not heard. 

Dick doesn’t let go of him the entire walk to the front doors, whispering reassurances at every one of Tim’s whimpers and whines. With one hand clinging to Dick and the other in his mouth, there’s nothing left to catch him if he falls. He hopes no one notices him behaving so babyish, completely unworthy of the Drake name. 

“You’re doing so well,” Dick tells him. “You’re safe, Timmy. We’ll be with you the whole time.” There’s too many people around to smell if he’s lying but it doesn’t matter. Tim already knows. He does nothing to respond beyond his pupish chittering. It’s one of those sounds Daddy despises, somehow simultaneously too infantile and too primitive for his tastes. “You’re not in trouble, honey, and you’re not going to be. We want to cherish you the way you deserve.” 

Tim hides his face against Dick’s side, hoping no one notices the way he’s still nibbling his fingers like a nestling. He hopes he doesn’t leave teeth marks if only so there’s less evidence of his impropriety. Even if this trip doesn’t leave him battered and bruised the way gala’s do, he finds himself even more afraid.

Once they’re inside there are more people around than Tim has ever seen in his entire life. Tim latches himself to the omega in a way his Daddy would hit him for. Dick only holds him closer, keeping a hand on him even when he grabs a shopping cart. Mr. Wayne grabs a second cart and Tim already fears how much debt the alpha plans to put him in. He knows he doesn’t have any useful skills to work off the costs. He can’t even do laundry without doubling the mess he began with. 

He looks over and sees Jason keeping a hand latched onto the side of the trolley as his dad pushes it, so he mirrors the action. Tim’s walking close enough that he stumbles a couple times when he’s too busy shying away from the other shoppers to pay proper attention. Somehow he’s not scolded for such disgrace. Maybe Mr. Wayne will wait to pull him into a bathroom to dish out discipline, the way Daddy does during parties. 

The Wayne’s seem familiar enough with the store, not hesitating to lead him over to the clothes section. It’s so much, racks on racks of more clothing than he’s ever seen before in his entire life. It makes the meager amount he has back at the Manor look pathetic. He doesn’t even deserve the opportunity of seeing such vast options before him. Mommy would never approve. 

She always made sure he had clothing that would properly uphold the Drake name, delivered twice a year as he grew. Though he never seemed to grow as much as Mommy or Daddy wanted him to. Even though he knows the clothing was most likely picked out from a catalogue by an assistant, he would sometimes pretend he could catch a whiff of Mommy’s scent clinging to the fabrics. 

He can’t even imagine how expensive it will end up being.

Tim needs to be grateful, he is, he is. He just didn’t know there was so much out there. So many pretty colors and designs he’s never had the privilege of seeing, let alone wearing before. He trips when he doesn’t see a stray hanger lying on the ground and Dick catches him before he can fall. He stutters out an apology, knowing his parents would bruise enough reminders into his skin that he’d never forget such a horrid mistake. Dishonorable in his every breath. 

Daddy wouldn’t hesitate, but at least he’d drag him to a bathroom or closet first. He doesn’t know Mr. Wayne well enough to his preferences. He just hopes Dick won’t be hurt too for daring to catch him, impeding the natural consequences of his clumsiness. He knows he wouldn’t be deserving of bandaids this go around. 

No one does anything to acknowledge his almost-fall besides asking if he’s alright. He wouldn’t know the answer anyway, so he just apologizes again. His default state is sorry, afterall. 

They start with the basics, so he’s told. Mr. Wayne asks for his preferences, which allows him the opportunity to pick out the cheapest socks. They’re plain white and not as fun looking as the colorful set, but he can’t be too greedy. 

When it comes to choosing undies he immediately wants to grab the superhero themed ones but they’re a whole two dollars more than the plain colored ones. He must not hide his yearning well enough though because Mr. Wayne grabs both packs, doubling the cost in a way that has Tim gnawing on his fingers harsher. He tastes blood and he doesn’t bother looking at the damage. It wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Do you like these?” Jason asks, showing off a package of superhero themed socks. Batman and Superman and Robin, all the heroes Tim looks up to. People that are so good that they’d never have to be punished by their Mommies and Daddies. 

Tim does like them. They’re such bright colors he knows Mommy would be aghast but they’re fun in a way he’s never allowed to be. Even now, it’s not allowed. He looks at the price tag and he knows socks could never be worth whatever labor demanded of him in repayment. 

“I got socks already,” he says, because it’s not a lie. He doesn’t even think his scent can give him away because it’s already sour. The milky scent curdling more the longer they stand in this store. 

Jason nods, still holding the package. “Yeah, but with these then you’ll have options! They’re so cool, they’ve even got Wonder Woman ones.” And that is cool. But childish designs will never be allowed in Drake Manor. No use in wasting the money on something he knows he’ll never be permitted to keep. 

“Mhm, but it’s okay. I got some already.” Tim says, fidgeting when Jason still doesn’t put the socks down. He doesn’t know how to convince him with Mr. Wayne standing right there, scrutinizing his every breath. 

Of course, that’s when he decides to pipe in, cementing his humiliation. “You’re welcome to get them, kiddo. It’s no problem.”

That’s so mean. Maybe it’s not a problem for such a powerful alpha, but it is for Tim. He can’t even clean up after himself without making a bigger mess. It’ll take him years to work off the debt. He should have realized Mr. Wayne would want to dig the hole as deep as he can, even under the guise of generosity. It makes him want to cry but he knows better than to do something so shameful in a public setting. 

“It’s okay,” Tim says again, trying to wrack his brain for another way to say no. 

But then Jason tosses the socks in the cart anyway and not even his toothy grin is enough to soothe the sudden shock of betrayal shooting through his veins. It thrums in between his bones and his muscles, threatening to make his knees quake. Tim guesses it was his own fault for assuming Jason was on his side. He should know better. It hurts all the same though. 

He’s not allowed the time to process the ache because everyone else wraps up, ready to walk over the next category of clothing. Dick puts a hand on his shoulder and he’s guided towards the pants section, like it doesn’t even matter. 

Tim rounds up his .99’s, knowing there will be tax but unsure how much it’ll cost. 

Staring at the dozens upon dozens of garments hanging before him, he resists the urge to touch the fabric, not wanting to dirty any of it. Even if whatever Mr. Wayne picks out is just as scratchy as his Mommy’s choices, he’ll take it. He won’t complain. He’ll bite his lip and his fingers and thank the alpha for his generosity. And it is generous. Mr. Wayne is being nice enough to give him the illusion of choice, and even though he’ll be in the alpha’s debt, he is still getting new clothes out of it. 

Only, instead of grabbing an array of pants to throw in the cart, all the stiff jeans and scratchy slacks Mommy loves, Mr. Wayne steps back. “Feel free to pick out whatever you want,” he says when Tim looks over. It’s not the guidance he expected to have. Mommy never gives him a choice. He doesn’t know what the right options are. If he picks out the wrong article of clothing he has no idea what the punishment could be for that. It was different for the socks and undies, they weren’t so expensive. But just a quick glance at these price tags and even the cheapest pair of pants is twice the cost of the superhero socks. 

They’re all staring at him, waiting for him to embarrass himself. At least there’s no other shoppers in this particular aisle to witness his downfall. 

When he stays rooted to the ground, overwhelmed by the many aisles of clothing, Dick urges him forward. “You’re not gonna get in trouble, just grab something you like.” 

He says it like it’s so easy. Like this isn’t a test of some sort. Tim knows he’s not as intelligent as his parents expect of him, that he’s never been one to ace every quiz. It shows now, still unable to comprehend.

Despite the bitterness threatening to stain his scent all salt and oil, he begins carding through the hangers. Most of the textures aren’t as scratchy as Mommy’s clothes, but not nearly as soft as Jason’s hand-me-downs. He knows he’s lucky just to have the opportunity to choose, he just doesn’t know where the line is between humiliating the Wayne’s with his pathetic preferences or being too greedy with his yearning. 

He wishes they’d stop staring. Every time he glances over there might be three sets of smiles but it does little to ease the pressure. 

If only to get them to stop watching so intently, he picks out a pair of pants with a bearable texture. Not super soft, but enough to be wearable. Except when he looks at the price tag they cost more than he’s willing to pay back, especially when it’s not as nice as Jason’s clothes. 

Tim thinks he understands the punishment now. There’s no winning. Either he picks out something nice and he drastically increases his debt, or he’s left with the same scratchy fabrics that started this whole ordeal. 

He keeps going, quickly feeling each article of clothes to finally find something worthy of all this stress. He fears there’s nothing this store could offer that will suffice for all the pain he’s signing himself up for, but it’s not as if he has a choice. 

He looks at all the price tags, finding the smallest numbers and showing them to the pack for approval. 

“Here, kiddo, I don’t think that size will fit you. Why don’t you look at this rack?” Mr. Wayne says, successfully making Tim redden and scent spoil further.

Tim adjusts immediately, going over to where directed and starting the process over again. He wonders why they didn’t tell him he was looking wrong earlier, or if they’re relishing in his inexperience. 

“It’s okay, you can keep looking through,” Mr. Wayne says. Though he’s sure it’s only to keep appearances with another shopper wandering closer. 

Tim finally finds one pair of sweatpants that are so very soft, just as soft as Jason’s clothes, and he wants. But then he looks at the price tag. It’s notably more expensive and there’s no way for Tim to justify it. He clings to the fabric, hoping that he has permission to, and tries to find the words to convince Mr. Wayne. He’d rather have one cozy outfit than five itchy ones. 

“You like that pair?” Dick asks, and Tim knows he’s caught. He drops the pants immediately, leaving them hanging on the rack with a small backandforth. 

Tim takes a step back, not wanting to lie but not knowing how else to answer. 

“It’s okay if you do, you’re welcome to pick out whatever you’d like,” Dick soothes, scent so warm and light for how oppressive the building is. 

Tim looks between each member of the Wayne pack and tries to find the loophole. 

“He’s right,” Mr. Wayne agrees, “there’s no judgment here. You won’t be belittled for anything you’d like to purchase.”

Tim can’t disobey immediately after he’s given an order, so he puts the pair of pants into the cart. He hates the way the space is filling so quickly. 

Jason comes forward, letting go of Mr. Wayne’s cart for the first time. “Look, they have another pair in red. Do you want another color?” Tim shrugs, not wanting to show how much he wants two pairs of soft pants. 

Tim really ought to learn how to control his scent better because they end up finding the same pair of super cozy pants in multiple colors, enough to fill his entire drawer back home. Then they find some shorts of the same brand, just as comfortable. Already it’s so much more than Tim prepared for Mr. Wayne to spend and he doesn’t know how to say no.

After that, they move onto shirts. It’s even harder when there’s so many cool designs and styles. T-shirts and sweaters and hoodies, all different colors and textures. Now that he’s not gotten in trouble for touching the clothes, he allows himself the indulgence. Some of the shirts are decently soft, but some with just one touch he’s recoiling from how awful they feel. He doesn’t want another wardrobe full of itchy outfits.

The omegas must get a good idea of what styles he gravitates towards, reds and blues and yellows, and they’re all so cool but he can’t keep up with the prices. Jason puts a fun looking Batman themed sweatshirt in the cart and Tim doesn’t think before he blurts out, “Wait, lemme look.” He quickly grabs the sweatshirt, looking at the tag before deciding it’s worth the cost. He might have to put a few other items back, but he really loves Batman. 

But then Jason is tossing another one of the Batman sweaters into the cart and Tim doesn't have the time to figure it out himself before Jason exclaims, “Timmy, look, they have the Batman shirt in my size too! We can match!” 

It’s hard not to meet his excitement in full force when he knows that can’t be allowed. That’s twice the expense, just to match with someone as lowly as Tim. But it would be so cool, beyond all dreams Tim had ever hoped for. He can’t dare let himself hope now though, knowing Mr. Wayne would never want his son associated with somebody as pathetic as Tim. 

“Jaylad,” Mr. Wayne sighs, “We’re meant to be shopping for Tim, not you.” It’s a far more gentle rebuke than Tim was expecting, though Mr. Wayne could simply be waiting until they get home to properly scold Jason. There’s no way he could truly be that kind to an omega refusing to submit. Tim watches, but Mr. Wayne doesn’t even try to hit him, nor does he make promises of all the ways he’ll hurt him at home. It doesn’t make sense. Daddies always hate being defied. There’s no way Mr. Wayne could stay patient when Jason is acting like this.

Jason picks up the second Batman shirt again, his eyes wide and pleading. “But Dad, Timmy and I would look so cool, please please please? Tim totally wants to match with me, I know it!”

Tim is so taken aback that Jason would dare argue with his alpha, let alone in public, all for the purpose of… matching with Tim? If Jason had insisted on getting the sweatshirt for himself, and banning Tim from it, he could have understood. But it seems as if the appeal is to be the same as Tim, which makes no sense at all. 

Dick laughs a little as Mr. Wayne shakes his head, somehow still smiling. “Okay. If Timmy doesn’t mind matching with you, I’ll let you get it,” Mr. Wayne acquiesces, before turning to Tim. “Is that okay with you? It’s okay to say no if you’d rather not match.”

Tim isn’t sure of the correct response, but he knows what he wants to say. Before he can stop himself he finds himself nodding yes. Which immediately causes Jason to let out a whoop of excitement as he drops the sweatshirt back into the cart. 

It’s only then that Tim realizes that he now needs to budget for Jason as well as his own debt. He really won’t be able to get away with buying the Batman sweater, as well as Jason’s, without putting anything else away to help ease the expense. Dick and Jason are still giggling together so Tim takes the chance to begin rifling through the many outfits filling the cart. Surely, he doesn’t need this much clothes. If he just puts a few of the more costly things away then it won’t be quite as burdensome to match with Jason. He’d hate for the omega to lose the privilege of a new shirt just because Tim is being selfish. 

He’s still searching through price tags for the most debt-inducing items to be rid of when Mr. Wayne calls out, “Timmy,” and he knows he’s been caught. Red faced and lip wobbling, he turns towards the alpha. “You don’t need to bother with the costs, I have more than enough to spend on all three of you boys and more.” 

Mr. Wayne may have all the money in the world, but Tim doesn’t. He won’t be able to pay it back. It’s already hundreds of dollars added up, enough to keep Tim indebted for years. His parents would never help him out of a debt of his own making, knowing it’s his rightful consequences for being so greedy. He already owes his parents an insurmountable debt for raising him so well, as they so kindly remind him. 

Tim nods, despite himself, half tempted to bare his throat. “Yes, sir.”

But that isn’t enough to appease the alpha. “Pup, what’s on your mind? You’re not in trouble, I just want to help you.” He doesn’t come any closer, keeping both hands on the cart handle, yet he looms all the same. 

“I’m sorry, I just. I don’t mean any disrespect, ‘m sorry.” He doesn’t know how to help the blubbering tears welling up. He sniffles, well aware of how small he must seem. “I just dunno how ‘m gonna pay you back. It’s all so much,” he confesses, tears threatening to spill over, overwhelmed and embarrassed in equal, horrifying measures. 

Mr. Wayne lets go of the cart and Tim can’t help his flinch. He doesn’t know the alpha well enough to know if he’d smack him in the middle of the store but he’s about to find out. He whimpers out another apology, voice coming out all snotty and tear-filled, but Mr. Wayne doesn’t stop. He comes close and crouches down, on level with Tim. 

“I should have explained this better. There is no debt. You do not owe me anything, Timmy,” his voice leaves no room for argument, as if Tim would ever dare. “If you truly want to ‘pay me back’ then let me do this for you,” he takes a breath, ending in a small smile. “I want to take care of you. You are worth the money I’m spending and so much more. I will never ask you for any money back, all I want is to see you happy and well taken care of.”

Tim flounders, unable to figure out the trick. He sniffles, wiping at his tears as if that will prevent Mr. Wayne from seeing them. He doesn’t know what the point of this game is and searching Mr. Wayne’s face grants him no answers. 

His attempts at saving face are in vain because Mr. Wayne continues, “I am not going to tell on you to your parents. You will not get in trouble with them for accepting my gifts.” He says it so gently, pheromones wafting around him in a protective cadence. Tim is sure he must be misinterpreting, that there’s no way the alpha actually scents of protect-love-pack but he doesn’t know how else to describe it. 

Tim’s brow furrows and he tries to force the words past his tightening throat, “but what happens to the stuff when I go back?” He tries to swallow down his rising panic but even that is not enough to help his sudden crying. 

His face somehow crumples further when Mr. Wayne asks, “Go back where?” 

“To my Mommy and Daddy,” he mewls, far too pathetic for any reasonable pup. He can’t get a hold of himself and he knows better, he promises he does. He whimpers, scrubbing away at his tears until the skin of his face burns as much as the rest of his body. 

“Pup, remember what we talked about? You’re staying here with us. You’re not going back.”

“But their trip. They’re supposed to come home soon, then the sleepover can be all done.” They have to come home. They have to. 

“This isn’t a sleepover. I offered you a place in my home, I want you to stay. You’re my pack now, Timmy, and as my pup I will provide for you.”

Tim doesn’t understand. Tim can’t understand. 

Mr. Wayne must see that because he says, “why don’t we finish up the shirts and grab some jammies, then we can take a break. This store has a little café inside so we can grab a snack.” When that does nothing to soothe Tim’s relentless whining, he gives him another soft smile. “I want to reiterate, you are not in trouble. You are not doing anything wrong. We just want to help and take care of you.”

Tim nods, all shaky and pitiful but an answer nonetheless. He looks over to the racks of clothes and even after all this time inside the store it’s still just as overwhelming. He knows it’s only morning but he wants a nap. He wants to go home. Or back to the Manor. Anywhere he’s allowed to sleep. 

“Here, honey, c'mere,” Dick finally speaks up, stepping forward from where he’d been whispering with Jason. “Why don’t we snuggle for a minute while Dad and Jay look at some pj’s?”

Tim turns too eagerly towards the pack omega, desperate for comfort after all the confusion. Even though the Wayne’s haven’t left his side, he still feels just as lost. Dick leans down and Tim can’t help but throw himself into his grasp, wrap himself around the omega and cling. Dick picks him up, bouncing him in his arms when Tim lets out a sob. He’s being so obvious, so naughty, and Dick holds him all the same.

Mr. Wayne doesn’t scold them for the public humiliation, doesn’t even tell them off for openly scenting. Dick nuzzles him at the same time Tim hides his face against the crook of his neck, getting an influx of honey-adoration-packmate. 

Dick continues to cradle him in his arms, cooing at him, “You’re doing so well, sweetheart, such a good boy.” Tim knows he’s not a good boy, but he also knows better than to argue. He hides against Dick, hoping the hand rubbing his back helps cover his quivering. 

Mr. Wayne and Jason end up picking out several options of shirts and pajama sets for Tim to choose from, all while he sits lazily in Dick’s arms. They don’t scold him for the selfish slothfulness, instead allowing him to reach a hand out to test the textures of each offered article of clothing.  

Though most of the shirts are too itchy for Tim to consider, the pajamas seem surprisingly cozy. The sorts of fabrics Mommy would never allow in Drake Manor, but they’re soft enough that Tim still wants them so very much. 

They find various superhero themed jammies, upon Tim’s clear preference for anything Batman and Robin designed. But then Jason finds a fuzzy set of teddy bear patterned pajamas and Tim wants. Dick has to readjust his hold on him when Tim reaches with both hands for the teddies. Jason hands over the jammies with a smile, allowing Tim to rub the soft fabric against his cheek, a quiet purr beginning to build at the pleasant texture. It’s a babyish style, something his Daddy would surely laugh at him for wanting, but it’s a teddy. It looks just like his teddy, the same color, the same comforting softness. 

It’s not the same as his actual teddy bear, but it’s close enough when he misses his stuffie so much. 

Mr. Wayne doesn’t snicker at his childishness, instead offering to buy any and all the clothes he chooses. Jason helps remove the hanger from the pj’s so Tim can hold the teddies. Wrapped up in Dick’s arms, his scent is already transferring to the new jammies, covering up the sterile store smell. Holding onto the jammies is not the same as his teddy, but it’s comforting enough, especially when Dick hasn’t put him down yet. 

With both Mr. Wayne and Jason finding the best clothing options, they wrap up much quicker than Tim had expected. They don’t even try to take the teddy bear pj’s away from him, content to fill the shopping cart with the rest of their spoils. 

Mr. Wayne takes hold of the cart once again, “okay, pups, you ready to go get a snack?” His scent is all warm and un-angry, so different from Tim’s Daddy’s pheromones that he doesn’t know how to read it. 

While Jason grabs the other cart, he asks, “May I please get a coffee?”

His alpha smiles at him fondly, allowing his little omega to take the lead towards the in-store café. “How about you stick to chocolate and you can try a sip of mine?”

Jason’s scent doesn’t sour even at the denial, “Fine.” Then he seems to remember Tim because he turns over to where Dick is carrying him. “Timmy, have you ever had chocolate milk before?”

Tim tries to hide his confusion against the jammies, “No, sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jason assures him immediately. “You should totally try one! They’re really good.” 

Dick smiles, bouncing Tim a bit in his arms, his scent still warm and comforting. “This is so exciting! Timmy’s first chocolate milk, how special is that!”

Tim nods along, not knowing how to explain that it’s too expensive. He doesn’t actually know how much a chocolate milk would cost but he’s sure something so yummy sounding must be super pricey. He’s already hundreds of dollars indebted to the Wayne’s, he can’t add more senseless charges just because he refused his breakfast. Pups who turn their food down don’t get to eat, simple as that. His Mommy and Daddy taught him well, afterall. 

There is indeed a little café in the corner of the superstore, a few people already lined up and waiting for their drinks. Tim has never heard of Jitters before but he can’t help but wonder if it’s too lowly a place for the Drake’s or if he’d be allowed the indulgence if his parents were here. He fears he knows the answer already. 

“My boys, feel free to get whatever you’d like, besides caffeine, Jaylad," Mr. Wayne instructs, looking right at Jason for the last part. 

Dick adjusts his hold on him, shifting him to his hip so Tim can’t hide as easily. Though it does give him a clearer view of the menu, of all the yummy looking pastries and sandwiches he won’t be allowed. He turns away, not eager to be taunted when his tummy still feels achingly empty. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Dick murmurs, “You’re allowed to eat. Is there anything that looks good?”

Tim shrugs, not having the words to explain. Though he’s not left to his silence long before Jason pipes up, having left his dad to look after the shopping carts. “Timmy, look! They have all sorts of desserts and Dad said we can each get one! Well, he said we can if we also get ‘sustenance’ so like, a sandwich. You like sandwiches, don’t ya?” 

Tim can’t ignore a direct question, so he nods. “Ooh, good! ‘Cuz Jitters has the best sandwiches,” Jason exclaims. “There’s ones with bacon or ham, or if you don’t want meat there’s cheese ones. What do you like?”

“I don’t, ‘m sorry. I don’t think I can, I wasn’t-” the little omega cuts off his pathetic ramble. 

“No, it’s okay. Dad said you could. C’mon, you gotta be hungry ‘cuz I know I am.”  

Tim doesn’t have the words necessary to decline. He knows he has no right to say no but selfishly, he wants to. As delicious as the entire display of pastries looks, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want the mortification of all these other customers seeing his public denial. It’s different when it’s Daddy’s friends witnessing his humiliation, but it’s another thing when it’s a whole group of strangers seeing what a bad boy he is. 

Jason continues on, either unaware or uncaring of Tim’s struggle. “I think I’m gonna go with the bacon and cheese with a chocolate milk. Oh, Dickie do they have the whip cream here?”

Dick hums, reaching a hand up to caress Tim’s face as he answers, “Yeah, Jay. I’m sure you could ask for some.” He lowers his voice, now addressing Tim, “I know it’s hard, but I don’t want you to feel guilty for accepting food. You don’t deserve to be hungry.”

Despite himself, tears spring up once again. He snuffles, refusing to let himself blubber like a baby all over again. Instead, he nods, knowing he’s far too weak to deny Dick. He is, afterall, the closest to a littermate he’s ever had. 

While Dick rubs his wrist over his cheeks and hair, scenting him in an intimately familial manner, they all step up to the cashier. Mr. Wayne asks if he’s ready but then Jason is already rattling off his order. Overwhelmed by the lengthy menu, he mumbles to Dick that he’ll just get whatever Jason ordered. Even if it’s not food he likes at least it’ll be approved by Mr. Wayne. Dick orders for him without prompting, before requesting his own coffee and sandwich. 

They walk off to the side, allowing the next person in line to order. It gives Tim the time to scent Dick more thoroughly, nuzzling against his neck and blanketing himself in honey sweet comfort. Tim finally gets to breathe for a few minutes until Mr. Wayne’s name is called and Jason bounds forward to retrieve his goodies. 

“I’ve gotta put you down now, sweetheart. There’s a table we can sit and eat at,” Dick tells him before pressing a kiss to the side of his head. Tim doesn’t argue. There’s no point. 

He’s set on his feet and handed a drink with whip cream towering on top. It looks absolutely scrumptious, and something Mommy would slap out of his hands if she ever saw. He knows she’s not in the country, let alone in this store, and yet he clutches the cup to his chest like it’ll be confiscated at a moment's notice. Dick leads him over to a table, holding his own drink. 

There’s only three chairs so Dick settles him in his lap while Jason and Mr. Wayne sit in their own spots. Mr. Wayne begins passing out the food and that’s when Tim realizes how gravely he messed up. He hadn’t realized how much Jason ordered. Tim has a drink, a sandwich large enough to be a meal of its own, as well as a rich looking brownie. Tim’s never had a brownie before, but he did see them served at a gala once. He asked his Mommy as politely as he could if he could have a bite, and she leaned down to address him. Hope had fluttered in his chest just to be squashed down by her nails digging into his cheeks as she scolded him. Saying how dare he even ask for something so fattening. 

He’s learned since then. This is another test. Though he fears the intensity of betrayal flooding through him. Both Jason and Dick must have been in on it to have ordered something so completely prohibited. Setting the treat in front of him, knowing he’d never be allowed the privilege of a taste. 

When he sees the others begin eating, he takes a bite of his own. The sandwich is so yummy and it’s all Tim can do to not inhale it right there. He never remembers how hungry he is until he has a taste, and then he’s suddenly ravenous. He’d swallow the sandwich whole if it was allowed, ensure no one could snatch it out of his hands. 

And then he takes a sip of the chocolate milk and he’s never had anything better. He takes sip after sip and then Dick is chuckling, “Slow down, puppy, or you’ll choke.” 

Tim puts the cup down immediately, rubbing his face as if that would alleviate the sudden blush. “‘M sorry,” he mumbles, scent pulsing an apology of its own. 

Dick bounces his knee a bit, jostling Tim just so. “No need to apologize, lovely. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

It’s cruelly ironic and Tim has no reasonable argument. Instead, he continues eating his sandwich at a more dignified pace, hardly paying attention to the idle conversation surrounding him. He knows Mr. Wayne is explaining the plan for the rest of their shopping endeavors. 

Jason finishes eating first, as per usual, even with stealing sips of his alpha’s coffee. And then he begins munching on his own brownie like it’s allowed. Mr. Wayne doesn’t even blink at the blatant indulgence. No one says anything at all about it until Tim finishes his entire sandwich and makes no move to try his own brownie. 

“If you don’t like it we can get you another snack,” Mr. Wayne offers, bringing more unwanted and unnecessary attention to the situation.

Tim shakes his head, hoping it’s not too rude. “It’s okay, but thank you, sir.”

Mr. Wayne gives him a peculiar sort of smile, something a bit sad looking for whatever reason. “You’re not under any obligation to call me sir, or anything of that sort. Bruce is just fine.” Tim doesn’t know what the rightful response is when Mr. Wayne is asking something so disrespectful. Tim might be a naughty puppy, but he’s well-trained enough to know better than to call an alpha by their given name. 

Tim might not be able to obey in how he addresses Mr. Wayne, but if he’s not to be punished for eating the brownie he might as well take advantage of the opportunity. He takes a nibble and his scent positively flourishes at just how yummy it is. His next bite is twice the size and even that isn’t enough. 

Dick chuckles again and it doesn’t seem mean because his scent blooms around him, all sugar and flowers. It somehow only makes the brownie taste sweeter and before he knows it, he’s licking the crumbs off his fingers like some sort of baby. 

He realizes himself all at once, looking over with wide eyes at Mr. Wayne. Only, instead of looking rightfully disgusted, he’s smiling at him. Jason too, when he dares to glance over. Tim can’t make sense of it. And then Dick is offering him a napkin, wiping his face himself when Tim does a bad job of it. 

Tim feels just as lost as before, though now his stomach weighs him down in a whole new way. He can’t help but fear what’ll happen after they leave the sanctuary of the little café. If he could, he’d never leave Dick’s lap, but he knows that’s an impossible ask. 

Chapter Text

Tim clings. 

It’s not something that’s ever been allowed, and he does it all the same. He’s pressed right against Dick’s leg, clutching his hand the way he would hold his teddy bear. It only makes the mourning worse, knowing that even when he goes home he won’t have his teddy to come back to. He’s never known that kind of grief before. While he’s used to losing the privilege of his Mommy and Daddy’s presence, he always had his stuffie to go crying to. He can’t even tell teddy that he tried chocolate milk for the first time. Or that he was finally allowed a brownie, despite Mommy’s previous denial. 

Tim used to share all of his treats with his teddy, the few that he got. He hopes teddy wouldn’t be upset with him for not sharing this time.

He won’t be able to tell Mommy either, when he sees her again. And if she does find out somehow, his bear won’t even be there to console him. He’ll have to do it all alone.

Dick scents him as they walk, enveloping him in loved-claimed-pack, as if he has any right. Tim leans into the gentle touch, needy for it. Jason is jabbering away while he pushes a shopping cart, telling Mr. Wayne about some game he’s been playing. Mr. Wayne is very good at playing pretend, though Tim supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. The alpha nods along to Jason’s rambling the whole walk to the nesting section of the store. He even goes so far as to ask follow up questions and grin at Jason’s boisterous giggling. Tim can’t help but fear that it’s too loud of a public display but Mr. Wayne does nothing to dissuade his son. 

Tim’s steps stutter as they finally reach the wall of blankets. Shelf after shelf overflowing with every color, texture, and design of blanket he could imagine. Even more than he could imagine. And they look so soft, so incredibly snuggly and warm and his puppy instincts thrum at seeing so much nesting potential all at once. Maybe this is how Dick got such an amazing nest, and he bets Jason has one as well. He hopes so, at least. 

Daddy only allows him a singular pillow and blankie, though he’s not needed to use them since staying with the Wayne’s. But now there’s so much opportunity and he can only hope he’s allowed to touch. Even if he can’t keep any of the blankets he inevitably falls in love with, at least he’ll get a taste of their comfort.

“Go ahead, baby, pick out whatever you like,” Dick tells him. Tim knows he has no right to offer, but he can’t help himself. Tim doesn’t have the self-control to stop himself from feeling the blankies, if they’re as comfortable and snuggly as they look. Unless Mr. Wayne physically pulls him away, nothing could stop him from reaching out. He spares a glance to the alpha, but upon no scolding, he finally gets to touch. 

He rubs his fingers over the edge of the nearest comforter, and immediately lets out a warbled purr at just how cozy it is. He digs his hands between the folds of the fabric, unable to help his smile. He stands there a moment, running his hands over the soft expanse, before he looks back to see all three Wayne’s positively beaming at him. It takes him aback for a moment, the sudden influx of happy pheromones emanating from them. He can’t make sense of it, but the blanket is so soft so he turns back to it. He’ll relish in the comfort for as long as he’s allowed.

There are so many blankets to explore and he’s not even gotten past the first one, but it’s just so nice. Dick’s nest is the most lovely place he’s ever slept, likely will ever sleep, and he knows this comforter will smell of nothing but sterile store air but he thinks it could be almost as soothing. 

“Do you like that one?” Dick asks him. 

Tim blurts out the answer before he can even think to be ashamed, an overeager, “Yes.” He freezes, waiting for the reprimand for showing preference for something so incredibly undeserving. Unbecoming, honestly, because the first blankie he found is a pale pink, omegan and feminine enough that his Daddy would spank him just for daring to look at it. He keeps his hands on the comforter, though he knows that only digs the hole deeper.

Only, instead of ripping him away from the proof of his transgression, Mr. Wayne says, “You’re welcome to have that one. Feel free to keep looking too, you can get as many as you’d like.”

“But-” he begins, before stopping himself. It would be foolish to explain his own misdeed, so instead he asks, “It’s allowed?”

Mr. Wayne smiles at him, and no matter how hard Tim looks, he can’t find any evidence of cruelty in his features. “I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t true. When you’re ready we can put the blanket in the cart and you can keep looking.” 

Tim continues petting the comforter, uneager to release something so cuddly. He’s already staining it with his scent, his milky pheromones sweetening the more he gets to hold the fabric. He doesn’t see a price tag and selfishly, he doesn’t want to care. He’s already hundreds more indebted than he had initially anticipated, what’s a little more? This blanket would be worth a lifetime of servitude. 

By the time he finds the courage to pull the pink blankie from the shelf, with Dick’s help to ensure the surrounding comforters don’t come tumbling to the floor, he still hasn’t found the price tag. He doesn’t get the chance to look further before Dick is placing it in one of the shopping carts. No one does anything to discourage him from browsing so he begins feeling the other blankets. Some of the textures cause him to recoil immediately, though others are nearly as snuggly as the pink one. 

It’s not until he finds a cozy fleece with the same design of those teddy jammies he loves that he pauses. It looks as if they’re made of the same fabric and his instincts seem to preen, saying this is the one. He’s heard about nesting instincts before, and he assumes Dick must feel them, but never before has he been drawn to a blanket quite like this.

The teddy bears covering the fleece look so much like his own plushie that tears spring to his eyes. His scent doesn’t sour with sadness and so he’s not quite sure what it is that’s overwhelming him but the tears spill over just in time for him to pull the blankie off the shelf, pressing it against his face. His tears soak in, ruining the fabric, and he only continues to nuzzle it. A sound wells up inside him. It’s not a purr, so he doesn’t know what’s happening and he doesn’t get the chance to find out. 

Someone touches his shoulder and he flinches, clutching the fleece, anticipating the painful sob that will tear from his chest when the blanket is ripped out of his hands. He can just barely catch a whiff of Dick’s honey scent before the hand is removed. He peeks over from where he’s hiding his face against the material, finding the omega squatting down beside him. He smiles so tenderly and Tim can’t help himself. He keeps the teddy blankie embraced in his arms as he leans towards Dick, invading his space. Dick doesn’t push him away, instead he wraps his arms around him and cuddles him close. 

While Tim nuzzles his cheek against the fleece, claiming it in the puppy sort of way, Dick does the same to him. Dick nuzzles against his hair, honey blanketing him the way he imagines the fleece will do. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. And Tim hiccups. Somewhere between a sob and something else entirely. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him and he finds it doesn’t matter as much as it ought to when Dick is holding him so gently. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Dick must tire from squatting so long because he keeps Tim held to his chest, settling back to sit on the floor. He easily maneuvers Tim into his lap, cradling him so tenderly. Again, Mr. Wayne does nothing to discourage something so blatantly shameful. The alpha allows his son to rock Tim in his lap, letting such a naughty puppy dirty the blankie before they even buy it. Tim fears what the punishment will be when they get back to Wayne Manor, but for now he noses at Dick’s scent gland and lets it soothe him. 

Curled up in his lap like nothing more than a nestling, he realizes he has to go potty. Tim knows better though, at galas the bathrooms are only for discipline, not for naughty little boys who can’t hold it. So he doesn’t say anything, because it wouldn’t matter even if he did. 

They sit on the floor long enough for Tim’s tears to dry, though his embarrassed hue still stays. “You ready, honey?” Tim isn’t, but he’s wasted enough time. 

Tim nods, refusing to release the teddy fleece even when he’s helped to his feet. At some point during their endeavor Jason must have been picked up and placed into the mostly empty cart. He’s holding his own comforter, running his wrists over the fabric in a methodical manner. He’s thoroughly scenting the entirety of the blanket, a deep emerald on one side and a more muted green on the other. 

Jason must notice his spying because he gives him a warm smile, “Dad said I could pick out some things for your nest.” 

Though Tim doesn’t comprehend, Dick must because he speaks up immediately, “Only if that’s okay with Timmy,” before turning his attention back to Tim. “If you decide you’d still like to nest then it’s up to you and you alone what you’d like to put in it. Though I know Jay and I would be more than happy to contribute a blanket or two.” 

“Though,” Mr. Wayne says wryly, “Jason’s ideas of nesting materials can be a bit unique.”

“Dad!” Jason whines out, long and loud, “They’re my favorite books! They have to be in the nest with me so they don’t get lonely.”

Tim needs multiple breaths to compute. He’s stuck between the realization that he’s never actually seen Jason’s nest before, the fear Mr. Wayne will hurt his son for arguing, and the neon sign in his face announcing the possibility of his own nest. 

“My nest?” Is what Tim squeaks out, sure he must be scent-drunk or something else equally as ridiculous. 

“Yes,” Dick coos, “You said you wanted a nest and you’re welcome to have one. I know, at least for me, I find comfort in keeping near the scents of those important to me.” 

Tim wants that so very much. So that even if the omegas tire of him, or if Jason is once again pulled into Mr. Wayne’s bed for the night, he’ll still have their pheromones to soothe him. Dick must see his yearning because he lets out a small laugh, not a mean sound, “C’mon, anything you want.”

No one makes him put the teddy fleece down, much the same as he held the matching jammies. That was, until Dick had noticed he’d gotten some crumbs on it during snack and had to brush them off. Tim had given the pajamas up then, not wanting to risk ruining them completely. This time though, he’ll be so careful. He won’t let any more teddies be taken away. 

Tim continues his exploration of every blanket the store has to offer while Dick does the same. Mr. Wayne seems to have contained Jason, though he doesn’t appear to be in time-out because he’s still allowed the green comforter. He must have unwrapped it from the ribbon keeping it tidy, using half the blanket to lean against while he continues scenting the rest. Tim watches him give a big yawn and he can’t help but think that he would have been popped in the mouth if Daddy saw him behave so improperly. 

He’s glad though, that Jason wasn’t hit for the offense. He’s sure the little omega has been hurt enough as it is. 

“What do you think of this one?” Dick asks, showing him a brightly colored yellow blanket, with longer fur than either of the comforters he’d picked out so far. Tim reaches a hand out, brushing his fingers against the fabric just to press right in a moment later. He runs his hands across the fur, a sudden purr bubbles out of him at the omega picking out such a perfect blankie for him. “That good, huh?” He says, and it sounds teasing but again, not in a cruel way. “Here, it’s not being taken away. We can put it in the cart whenever you’re ready, and it’ll be waiting for your nest.” 

Tim smiles so wide he thinks his cheeks might burst with it, and then he lets out a small laugh of his own and he doesn’t even know what’s come over him. Honey comes out in a wave, meeting on his milky scent in tune. Far sweeter than he has any right to, and Tim does nothing to stifle it. 

They do indeed add both blankets to the cart, ready to bury Jason in all the coziness. He preens at the attention, seemingly content to sit with the blankets while Tim and Dick continue browsing. 

Dick hands him a pretty red blanket sitting on a shelf too tall for Tim to reach. It’s nothing like any of the other selections, knitted from a yarn so thick it’s half the width of Tim’s wrist. Tim picks gently at the stitches, enjoying the texture far more than he expected to. He thinks it would be lovely to burrow in, nice to fidget with when he wakes from nightmares. He only hopes he doesn’t ruin all these purchases with his bed-wetting. He’d hate to waste so much money.

God, this has to be so expensive. He’s not sure how he’s managed to lose track so severely. He’s sure he’s doubled the debt the clothes put him in. He’ll have to spend his whole childhood paying it back, despite Mr. Wayne saying it’s not necessary. He looks at all the things he’s picked out and he wonders if it’s worth it. 

He supposes it doesn’t quite matter, not when the alpha is in charge. Mr. Wayne said to select his expenses and he might as well choose things he actually wants. He knows if Mommy wanted to put him in debt that she’d never allow him his preferences. 

While Tim is distracted stroking his many goodies, the vast multitude of fuzzy blankets and cozy clothes, Mr. Wayne points out a new fleece. This one might be as cool as the sweatshirt Jason picked out, Batman and Robin themed, his very favorites. He looks at the blanket and he wants, but it’s the alpha holding it. Somehow, it feels different than grabbing off a shelf, even if the cost is extracted from the same wallet. 

Mr. Wayne holds it out, and Tim inches forward, feeling nothing more than a skitterish lamb. Once again he’s pleasantly surprised by how much he loves the fabric, the perfect texture to run his fingers through. It’s just as nice as the teddy fleece he picked out and he can’t help but wonder how Mr. Wayne could find something so lovely. It’s the exact sort of blankie Tim would have picked out and he’s not sure how Mr. Wayne could have known that. 

“Thank you, sir,” he says before he remembers himself, “Mr. Wayne, I mean.” He can’t help but white-knuckle the material, afraid the alpha will rip it away in consequence of his mishap. 

The alpha smiles at him, a bit tight around the edges, but a smile nonetheless. “Of course. I hope you like it.” And then he takes a step back, allowing Tim to hold the blanket without so much as a scolding. Tim does like it, but he doesn’t know why that would please Mr. Wayne. He hasn’t done anything worthy of a reward, let alone something so precious. He looks at the rapidly filling shopping carts and wonders how, even if the objective is to put Tim in debt, Mr. Wayne could bear to waste so much. Even half of this would be enough to keep Tim at their heels for years. 

He hugs the blanket and doesn’t know what he ought to think. Mr. Wayne could choose anything to put Tim in debt with, and yet he picks the cuddliest fleece on the shelf. Maybe it’s to tease him. Maybe the alpha will buy the blanket under the guise of Tim’s expenses only to forebay him from keeping it. Or maybe he’ll give it to one of his sons. That would make sense. It’s clear that Jason also likes Batman. That would be a befitting punishment. Make Tim think he’ll actually be allowed to keep all these lovely things, just to give them to the omegas instead, knowing how much more deserving they are of such gifts. 

Tim puts both the teddy and Batman blankets into the same cart Jason is still sitting in. It only makes sense. 

Even if that is the case, it’s not the punishment Mr. Wayne thinks it is. Jason and Dick deserve nice things, more so than Tim does. He wants them to be happy. Seeing Jason cozied up with all the blankets makes a purr want to echo from his chest.

With nothing left to hold onto he begins nibbling on his fingers again, the skin still raw from his earlier gnawing. He doesn’t ask to move on, keeping busy fidgeting with comforters he already touched. Mr. Wayne seems to have tasks of his own, placing a few things into cart. Tim looks over and chews his fingers harder when he sees the waterproof bed mat on full display. Any of the other shoppers can look at the box and know how naughty Tim is, wetting the bed so many times they have to buy a special mat for it.

Maybe that could be another reason for the nesting materials. So that Tim dirties his own blankets rather than Dick’s. That doesn’t account for his blankie from Drake Manor remaining untouched, but perhaps he’s finally lost the privilege of Dick’s nest entirely. 

He won’t know until they get back to the Manor. So he shuffles over to Dick, needy for another scenting but certain that it would be rude to ask. 

Dick seems to know what he wants even without asking. He doesn’t hesitate to ruffle his hair, messing up the style just to smooth it back down. He strokes his wrist over each lock of hair, enveloping Tim so thoroughly with honey that he’s not sure he’ll ever smell solely of milk again. Tim doesn’t know what exactly the opposite of loneliness might be, but he thinks this could be it. 

While Tim is distracted trying to hold back his begging purrs, Jason asks, “Dad, oh Dad is it time for the toy shopping now?”

“If everyone is ready then we can head on over. But remember this is for Timmy,” it sounds somewhat chastising and yet Jason doesn’t even flinch. Mr. Wayne does not continue scolding him, not even when his son meets his generosity with more sass. 

“Yeah, I know! I can’t wait to show him all the coolest stuff.” 

Tim watches with bated breath for Mr. Wayne to snap, but both his voice and scent remain even. Unchanging in his seemingly endless patience. 

“Or you could let him decide what’s cool or not.”

“Nuh uh, I’m the big brother now! It’s my job.”

Tim furrows his brow, just barely holding back from correcting Jason. He’s factually incorrect. He’s still Mr. Wayne’s youngest son. Tim’s sleepover might have turned into something else but it’s still not as if they’re actually going to keep him. He’s not sure exactly how long he’ll be with the Wayne’s, but definitely not long enough for Jason to become a big brother. 

So there’s no reason at all for his heart to swell in time with the shrinking of his lungs. There’s no reason for hope nor disappointment when nothing's changed at all. They’re still waiting for his Mommy and Daddy to come back and then it’ll all go back to normal. Right back to the way things ought to be. 

Mr. Wayne carefully lifts Jason out of the shopping cart when he reaches grabby hands out. Timmy can’t help but picture himself doing that, just for his Daddy to slap his hands away. Or his Mommy to put his hands down and come up close, whispering about the consequences for his public display of naughtiness. Mr. Wayne doesn’t even appear to squeeze too tight, instead settling Jason gently on his feet and ruffling his hair with an affectionate smile. Tim strains his ears but he doesn’t hear any threats about further punishments. 

He’s not allowed to continue spying on them because Jason and Mr. Wayne start pushing the carts towards the next section of the store and Dick is guiding him along. 

Tim had imagined one aisle for the toys, or maybe a wall like for the nesting supplies. But instead he’s met with an area almost the size of the boys clothing section. There are several aisles in a row filled to the brim with various toys. They’re seemingly sectioned out with more omegan shelves, alphan catered toys, as well as for boys and for girls. It’s all so much that if Dick wasn’t leading him there then he would have stopped right in the middle of the floor.

The first aisle they go down is filled with an absolute abundance of stuffed animals. Every sort of animal he knows, as well as some he doesn’t even recognize. He’s overcome by all the variety when suddenly he sees-

“Teddy!” He gasps out, pulling out of Dick’s hold and rushing forward before he can think better of it. 

Towards the end of the row, on the bottom shelf are the absolute biggest stuffies he’s ever seen. And amongst them is teddy. It’s not his teddy, this one is almost as big as Tim himself, but it’s the same light brown. It has the same ribbon. And when he throws himself at it, trusting the bear to catch him, it’s just as soft. It might be even more soft because the fur hasn’t yet been ruined by tears and drool. He nuzzles the plushie, clambering onto the shelf like he’s trying to sit in its lap. He almost could, if he were just a bit smaller.

He hears some chuckling and cooing and he knows they’re making fun of him for being so babyish but he can’t help it. He knows it’s not his special teddy bear, but this one is almost as nice. He thinks it’d make a good friend. 

He nuzzles the teddy bear far longer than he has any right to. Something so big and cuddly and perfect has to be super extra way expensive. Selfishly, he thinks it could be worth the debt. As long as it’s allowed. He knows Mommy and Daddy would never even consider buying him a plushie, but they wouldn’t buy nesting material either and Mr. Wayne insisted. Maybe this too is a rule differing from his parents' expectations.

Tim gives the teddy a kiss and miraculously that gives him the bravery to look up. 

Jason is already distracted by the other stuffed animals lining the shelves but Mr. Wayne and Dick are both staring at him and he’s sure he messed up. He knows it’s best if he backs away now. Alfred might not be here but that doesn’t mean that they can’t punish this teddy too. Tim would never forgive himself if another stuffie had to be drowned in his stead. He’ll take the punishment this go around. He will. He’ll be braver this time.

He rubs his wrist one last time over the bear, not risking kissing it again with the two Wayne’s staring at him. He stands up, suddenly feeling a whole lot more akin to a scaredy-cat than a big boy. 

“You are welcome to get the bear,” Mr. Wayne says, successfully making Tim feel a bit dizzy from all the surprises and changes in expectations. 

Tim doesn’t understand how anyone, especially an alpha- especially a Daddy, could sound so fond of someone so incredibly awful. Tim is being such a disgrace and Mr. Wayne is doing nothing but encouraging it. He wants the stuffie so badly he aches with it and he knows Mr. Wayne must know that as well, but he can’t find the trick. Even if the alpha buys it just to give it to Jason or Dick, at least the bear would be safe. Tim doesn’t think Alfred would drown one of the omega’s stuffed animals.

Tim’s the most selfish person in the whole wide world and he doesn’t know how to want the new teddy bear less. He looks to Dick, only for him to smile at him. Somehow Tim was expecting that reaction, despite himself. He can’t comprehend how the omega has seemingly endless patience and love to give, and yet he does. He does, and somehow he’s found Tim worthy of sharing with. 

“Please,” Tim says, even though Mr. Wayne already told him he could get the teddy bear. He doesn’t know what it’s like to not be begging for what he wants. 

Mr. Wayne squats down and Tim blindly reaches for the teddy, unable to look away from the alpha. He waits for the rebuke but all he gets is a kind smile. “I want you to be happy, Timmy. And if that teddy bear will make you happy then let’s buy it. Do you need help putting it in the cart?”

Tim’s first instinct is to say no, that he can handle it. To not let the alpha even near the stuffie, let alone allow him to touch it. But glancing at it again, how big it is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to lift it over the edge of the cart without help. Plus, it’s not as if he has any right to deny an alpha’s request anyway. 

He nods, a timid thing, and Mr. Wayne shows no malicious amusement at his weakness. Instead, he asks, voice soft, “Okay. Are you ready to put it in the cart? We can keep looking around after.”

Tim nods again, a bit firmer this time. He leans down, wanting to be the one to pull the bear off the shelf. The teddy is so big that its feet drag on the floor even when he holds it. He gives it one last quick snuggle, another kiss, and then he allows Mr. Wayne to place it in the cart. He puts it amongst the many blankets, making it look a bit like a nest already. Something inside him preens at the sight.

He’s hardly had time to look at the surrounding plushies when Jason comes bounding over, a couple stuffed animals in his arms. He holds out a cute little tiger as well as a soft looking shark, “Look! What do you think of these?”

Tim must look as confused as he feels because Jason clarifies. “For your nest, silly! You can’t have a nest without stuffed animals. I thought these would be good little protectors for you. Help you feel safe even if you have a nightmare or something.” Or if he wets the bed again goes unsaid. 

Tim’s never been given a plushie like this before. He’s not quite sure how he got his special teddy bear, it’s just always been around. Any toys that he used to have were all the same, they were just something he had until he didn’t. He can’t recall every being given them but he can clearly remember them being taken away. Mommy had filled an entire garbage bag with all his beloved toys, saying a big boy can’t have something so infantile. 

He knows Dick let him borrow the kitty plushie, but that’s not actually Tim’s. He can’t keep it. 

But Jason wants to give him these. He knows it’s not the omegas money and so Mr. Wayne has the final say, but the thought of having two stuffies from Jason makes his scent swell up all sugar and vanilla. He takes the outstretched plushies and cradles them in his arms, immediately approving of the texture of their fur. He can tell just by looking at some of the surrounding stuffed animals that the texture would be yucky but somehow Jason found ones that are so very nice. They’re perfectly cuddly and cozy and he’s nuzzling them with a happy little puppy chirp before he can help himself.

He reddens, ashamed at the sound, and clutches the plushies tight. No one rips them out of his hands though, even after making such a primitive sound. Instead Jason’s scent blooms around him, like a cherry tree suddenly grew and ripened right in the middle of the floor. 

“I knew you’d like them,” Jason says, sounding far more smug than Mommy would deem appropriate. Smugness is, afterall, only for when business deals go through and Drake industries got the best of it. Even so, Mr. Wayne doesn’t seem offended. 

He’s allowed a few moments to cuddle the newfound gifts before he hands them back to Jason to place in the cart. Both the tiger and the shark are set down with the giant teddy bear, only succeeding in making the cart look more nest-like. 

Tim has more than he ever could have asked for, and yet when he looks to Mr. Wayne, he encourages him to keep looking. No matter if this ends up a trick or not, this could be his one chance to experience picking out his own toys. 

With that in mind, he reaches a hand out and begins feeling the fur of each and every stuffed animal. He pauses when he finds a rack of all superhero themed plushies. They’re round and a little silly looking but so very soft when he tests the texture. He immediately searches for his favorite heroes, finding Batman and Robin plushies right beside each other. He runs his fingers over the fuzzy material, finding it more than suitable. He then rubs the cape between two fingers and though it’s not fuzzy, the silky material is somehow just as nice. He brings both stuffies to his chest, unable to hide his excitement at being able to cuddle the heroes he looks up to, even in this small roundabout way.

Jason laughs and he looks over to him, ready to be chastised for something so childish, but his scent is still cherry-love, no cruel amusement at all. He’s not sure why Jason looks so pleased but when he reveals the two plushies hidden in his arms, his smile only seems to grow. He glances over to Dick only to find that same sort of fond grin and he doesn’t understand, but he’ll take it over being outright punished. 

He presses a kiss to both the little hero stuffies, now that he’s pretty sure he won’t be hit for the open affection. Mr. Wayne doesn’t seem angry, at least. 

He goes over to the shopping cart, standing on his tippy toes to place them gently amongst their new friends. It’s only after he gives each stuffie a pat on the head that he realizes he didn’t check their price tags. He was so lost in his greediness that he didn’t even think to look. It would be awfully suspicious to pull everything out now just to check, so he’ll have to learn his debt another way. Maybe when they check out the cashier will say the total. Or maybe he can ask Dick later. 

No matter what Mr. Wayne says, he still needs to be ready. He can’t get too comfortable spending all this money when it could so easily be used against him. He’s sure Daddy would say this is a bad business deal or something. 

Tim is pulled out of his thoughts when Dick comes over with his own pair of stuffed animals being presented to him. There’s a small brown dog and a pretty pink giraffe. Tim looks to Mr. Wayne but upon no protest he embraces the stuffies in his arms. They’re so lovely that he couldn’t help his purr even if he tried. He nuzzles against both plushies and somehow he gets a waft of honey sweetness, as if Dick already scented them. 

He rubs the doggie’s ear against his cheek, preening at the softness, and he really hopes he’s truly allowed to nest. Even if it’s only a small one, or only for a day or two, he hopes he’s allowed the comfort. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to earn the privilege. Whatever Mr. Wayne wants of him. 

Tim doesn’t understand all of these new rules the Wayne’s have when they’re so contradictory to everything his Mommy and Daddy expect of him. With all of this debt he’s putting himself into, he’ll soon have to learn every intricacy of their rules. The clock begins as soon as Mr. Wayne purchases everything and Tim only has so much time left. 

Chapter Text

Tim was under the impression that the rightful amount of money to spend on toys was zero. Mr. Wayne seems to have a very different idea on how much is appropriate to waste on a pup who’s done nothing to prove himself worthy. It’s not Tim’s place to question an alpha, but he can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wayne was thinking, buying all of this for him. 

The second shopping cart is filling so rapidly that Tim no longer has any chance of keeping track of the total. Even if he got a look at every price tag, there’s far too many numbers now. It only further demonstrates just how far he is from meeting Daddy’s expectations for his education. He’d be so angry with him for messing up simple addition and Tim knows he’d deserve the ire.

He can hardly fathom that it’s all for him. He can’t even imagine having such an abundance of things to play with. Even before Mommy threw all of his toys away, he did not have nearly this much to choose from. 

Most of his toys were given to him by clueless adults who didn’t know Mommy and Daddy’s rules. Tim was allowed to keep them, but only long enough for there to be ‘proof’ that Tim likes their generous gifts. Before throwing out the toys, Mommy made sure to take a photo of his room with the pile stacked high. All sorts of stuffies and dollies he yearned to play with but wasn’t permitted. Mommy had muttered something about ‘image’, Tim still doesn’t understand what that meant but he’s sure it was important. 

He would have been content to simply be allowed to keep his original teddy bear. He’s so excited at the prospect of having not only a newer, bigger bear, but possibly several other stuffed animals too, only it’s not the same as his teddy. 

His teddy, drowned, punished in Tim’s stead. 

He looks at the plethora of stuffed animals that Dick and Jason helped him choose and he can’t help but think that he’d trade them all for his teddy. He knows it’s not possible and even so, he needs to be grateful for this opportunity. He is, he’s so grateful, he just also misses his teddy more with every passing moment. He wants to tell his bear all about the store, about all the toys he’s seen, about the nest he wants to make. But now his first friend won’t get to know anything about all of these potentially thrilling developments.

Though he does think that these new stuffies could be good friends too, if that’s allowed. 

Even after both omegas chose plushies for his nest, they helped him pick out even more stuffed animals. A whole zoo of snuggly stuffies overflowing in the cart, enough for two generous sized nests. Tim keeps waiting for Mr. Wayne to say that’s enough, that he couldn’t possibly be so greedy. Tim is aware that Mr. Wayne is even wealthier than his own Mommy and Daddy, but even so he can’t imagine spending such an abundance of money simply under the guise of putting Tim in debt. 

Tim is standing in the middle of the aisle, thoroughly overwhelmed, when Mr. Wayne approaches him. He nibbles his fingers to keep from trembling too noticeably, wishing that he hadn’t put all the stuffies in the cart, if only so he had something to clutch onto now. 

The alpha squats down, smiling at him fondly. Tim can’t help but glance to where the omegas are roaming the aisle, certain that Mr. Wayne means to direct this affection towards his actual sons. Tim doesn’t stop chewing on his fingers even when it becomes clear that there’s no one else Mr. Wayne could be grinning at but him. He doesn’t think this alpha bares his teeth the same way his Daddy does. Mr Wayne slowly moves his hand forward from behind his back, Tim carefully tracking the motion to make sure it’s not going to turn into a slap for being so impertinent. 

“I know it’s not your special bear but I thought it could help you to have something to hold,” Mr. Wayne says, opening his hand to reveal a tiny teddy bear. Tim hesitates for a breath before he gingerly takes the offered bear. It’s itty bitty, so much smaller than his own teddy, but this one is on a keychain. It’s just as soft as any of the other plushies he’s picked out, despite being so much littler. “It might be a bit easier to hold onto, and then you can clip it on something for safe keeping if you wanted.”

Oh. Mr. Wayne doesn’t want him dragging around an actual stuffed animal anymore. Tim has to admit that this is much kinder than prohibiting him outright, as a keychain is much easier to both hide and to explain away. Not that either of his parents would allow such childishness, but he could imagine. Either way, Tim shouldn’t have expected to be allowed to drag around more stuffies after he got his teddy so cruelly taken away. The new stuffies must only be about appearances, just like the toys from Mommy and Daddy.

Tim holds the keychain to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the fur, and pulls his other hand out of his mouth. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” he says, refusing to let himself mumble around his fingers. 

Mr. Wayne shifts, like he’s about to touch him, but instead he stands up straight. “It’s no problem, kiddo.” Tim hopes the tension overtaking his body isn’t too obvious. 

When he’s pretty sure that Mr. Wayne isn’t about to retaliate somehow, he risks rubbing the tiny teddy against his cheek. It’s so very fuzzy and he finds himself approving of the texture. It never fails to astound him how easily the Wayne’s find fabrics he enjoys when his Mommy never did succeed in that feat. Not that he would ever tell her that, though. She’d smack him for less.

With the newly acquired teddy keychain, they finish up the stuffed animal aisle. Tim braces himself for the next category of shopping, sure they’re about to go humiliate him with comparing diaper brands. At least if they head towards toiletries that means they have to be finishing the trip up, which would allow him to go back to the Manor and finally go potty. And yet instead, they turn down the next aisle. This one is clearly cantered towards boys in general, nothing screaming too alphan nor omegan, yet he knows his parents would disapprove regardless. 

He sticks close to Dick, watching Jason prance down the aisle, intent on showing him all the ‘best and coolest’ toys. The younger omega makes several suggestions and Tim doesn’t know if he’s supposed to follow through or not. He doesn’t want to be rude to Jason but he also doesn’t want to add meaningless expenses to his debt. He can’t allow himself to be overcome by how fun everything looks. He’s used to entertaining himself with a singular stuffie, there’s no reason he needs more than what they already picked out. But Mr Wayne might get angry that Tim is blowing off his son, who has been nothing but kind and generous, more so than he ever needed to be to Tim of all people. 

He would have been happy though, with just his special teddy bear if it meant he didn’t have to be in so much debt. 

Jason shows no such qualms, stopping in front of a group of shelves filled entirely with Legos. There’s all sorts of sets with various themes and levels of difficulty. Of all the things Jason has pointed out in the aisle, the building blocks admittedly intrigue him the most. The omega grabs a set meant to build a car, holding it up to show Tim, as though to get his approval, Tim agrees that  it is cool, but it’s a box on the shelf behind him that catches his eye. When Tim doesn’t take the proffered toy, Jason glances back.

“Hey,” Jason says softly, “I don’t have to choose for you. If there’s one you like then go ahead, it’s all good.” His scent doesn’t change so he doesn’t think he’s lying. He doesn’t even seem disappointed when Tim is so clearly distracted. 

Tim clutches the keychain and shuffles forward. He looks over to the omega and he gives him a broad smile, nothing less than encouraging. Though there’s plenty of fun looking sets, there’s one modeling an old fashioned camera that looks so very cool.

It’s not the same sort of camera that Daddy has, but it’s similar enough to remind him of it. Tim wasn’t actually allowed to practice photography,  but he was naughty. With this toy though, if he’s allowed to get it then he won’t have to worry about Daddy spanking him for it. That is so long as Daddy doesn’t know he has any toys at all. Tim knows he won’t be able to bring any of these purchases back to Drake Manor so as long as no one tattles on him then he should be relatively safe from further punishment. 

Jason beams at him, “That one looks great! I’m sure Dad will let you get it.” 

Tim turns towards the alpha in question, finding him smiling indulgently. “Of course. Go ahead, pup.”

Jason must get a whiff of how sweet Tim’s scent grows because he asks, “Timmy, do you like photography?”

He nods before he realizes his mistake. He suddenly wishes he had picked a different box. If they realize that he used to steal Daddy’s camera, the only way he could have been able to practice, they could easily punish him for it. 

Tim can’t believe himself, that he actually just gave them potential evidence that he’s a thief. He quickly puts the camera Lego set in its rightful place on the shelf, backing away from the proof of his naughtiness. 

Jason furrows his brow, not hesitating to grab the box back off the shelf, “Timbo, Dad just said you can get it. We can put it in the cart, it’s okay.” 

Dick speaks up before Tim can find the words to explain, “Jay, don’t pressure him.”

Jason whips towards his brothers, scent flaring with something more akin to protective than angry. “I’m not trying to pressure him! I’m helping,” he insists. “He shouldn’t feel bad or whatever for wanting a toy.” Jason’s face has gone all funny, scrunched up and red, like he’s about to cry or yell. 

“I know, Little Wing,” Dick croons, stepping towards his brother. He reaches a hand out and rubs his wrist over the little omega’s throat, right against his scent gland. It’s such an intimate and familial sort of scenting that Tim feels as if he’s intruding just for witnessing it. “I just don’t want Timmy to feel forced into anything.” 

Tim thinks that’s an ironic way to put it. He’d never dare say something so rude, but he can’t help but think it.

With both brothers distracted, he toes back towards the carts. He has more than enough toys. He can’t allow himself such immense greediness. It’ll only make it that much harder to go home to an empty bed and a dust-covered toy box. 

As soon as he’s near Mr. Wayne takes the opportunity to speak quietly to him, and Tim immediately regrets going towards the alpha. “There are no consequences for anything you pick out,” he tells him. “If you wanted, we could even pick out a real camera. I know there’s a few models in store.”

Tim doesn’t know how much money a camera is worth but he does know that using one without permission leads to enough hits on the bottom with Daddy’s belt to leave him bleeding all over the time-out chair.

He doesn’t even know what to say. He can’t say no to an alpha, let alone an alpha Daddy. But this is far too much. It’s not even too good to be true when there’s no way this could be a sincere offer. He bets the camera costs around the same as all the blankies combined. Maybe even more than that. He could imagine a high quality camera costing more than the sum of both overflowing carts altogether. 

That would take more than one lifetime to pay back. Tim could spend the rest of his days attempting to make up the money and it still wouldn't be enough. Mr. Wayne might be crueler than he ever imagined. 

“You don’t have to decide now. We have time,” Mr. Wayne assures. “When we’re done looking at the toys we can always stop by the electronics section.” Tim nods, mind already made up. He won’t say anything until he needs to, but he knows he won’t change his decision. 

Tim looks over to the omegas, eager to get away from the Legos. He finds them hugging, Jason curling into his big brother with his head fitting perfectly under Dick’s chin. Tim watches Dick gently rock them back and forth, speaking softly enough to the younger omega that he can’t make out the words from where he’s standing. He watches Dick press a kiss to Jason’s head and something heavy wells up inside him. He swallows down the suffocating thing inside him and reminds himself that they’re real littermates. Nestmates really, since they’re a familial bonded pair of omegas. 

He looks down at the itty teddy bear in his hand and tells himself that it’s more than enough. It’s more than he had before. More than he could have asked for after his first teddy had to be punished. He only hopes he’ll be allowed to keep it. 

After a few more moments of blatant cuddle-scenting, the older boys come back over by the carts. Dick grins at him and Jason seems to be attempting the same easy confidence as his brother. “I’m sorry if I’ve been pressuring you,” he apologizes.

That’s not what Tim wants at all. His stomach acid seems to splash inside him, threatening to drown him inside out. He hopes his teddy didn’t feel this yucky. Jason should never apologise, especially not to the likes of Tim.

“No, ‘m sorry,” Tim says a bit desperately. He’s not sure how it’s his fault but he knows that it is and if Mr. Wayne overhears then he’ll have no choice but to drag him to the bathroom for a proper scolding. Then it’ll take even longer to get back to the Manor and go potty and then he’ll be in way more trouble if he has an accident during his spanking. Few things infuriate Daddy more than if he wets himself over his lap. That almost always leads to one of his special punishments and please, Tim doesn’t want to. He doesn’t, please, please-

Jason shakes his head, looking a bit sad and oh god, “It’s not your fault. I was so excited to be like, y'know a big brother for the first time, that I guess I didn’t think how overwhelming it could be.”

Tim shakes his head so hard that it aggravates his skull, “No, no, it’s okay. ‘M sorry for the trouble, please, I’m sorry.” He’s so focused on apologising that the rest of the baffling statement barely registers— why would Jason be a big brother? 

Mr. Wayne steps in and Tim hates himself for so visibly recoiling, “Neither of you are in trouble. Why don’t we just grab the Lego set and move onto another aisle?”

Tim’s tummy doesn’t settle even when Jason grabs the camera box and places it in the cart, nor when they head to the next section. Dick seems to take the lead this go around. Tim has never heard of fidget toys before but apparently the omega has lots of opinions about them. He’s gentle about it, careful not to pressure him the way Jason thinks he had been. Dick shows him all sorts of different toys. Ones that spin, some with magnets in them, even ones that are chewable. He explains how he thinks they could be helpful for him. It’s not as if Tim can disagree so they too get added to the cart. 

Even though the prices of these toys are front and center it’s hard to keep track of the math when they’re being thrown in the cart faster than he can think to protest. He’s not sure if it even matters anymore. His debt has already spiralled far out of his control. 

The girls aisle is next and Tim expects them to walk right past it but the Wayne’s all file in like it’s a normal occurrence. Jason seems to have caught his second wind and is fluttering from shelf to shelf with visible excitement. It’s all so feminine and omegan that he knows Daddy would hit him for even considering stepping in an area so clearly unbecoming of a Drake. He clutches the keychain, tries reigning in his scent, and follows the Waynes. 

The aisle is full of temptations, toys Tim wouldn’t even dare to dream about.  He stares at the tiny teddy, knowing that if he looks around he’ll only be tempted to pick out something decidedly not allowed.

That is, until Dick asks, “Baby, would you like to pick out a doll?” Tim looks up, ready to lie, until he glances behind the omega and sees the vast amount of pretty dollies on display. There’s so many and they all look incredibly beautiful. While several of them appear to be plastic and not very comfy to snuggle, others seem to be fabric and look so incredibly huggable. 

Now that he’s noticed them, he can’t stop staring. And then he sees the most lovely dollie of all. He gingerly pulls her off the shelf, cradling her in his hands. She has yarn hair that looks so perfect to stroke his fingers through and she has a soft fabric body. When he touches her dress it’s so much nicer than he would have expected. 

He wishes he hadn’t noticed.

He wishes he hadn’t seen. 

He wishes he hadn’t touched.

Mommy and Daddy threw out his dollie when they heard him singing to it. They’d be absolutely enraged if they found out that he got another one behind their backs. Especially one with such familiar features. Mommy would be outright appalled.

He can just imagine the pain he’d be in after. They never clean him up after a punishment. They say it’s his natural consequence for being such a bad boy. He lies there crying for as long as they let him before he has to drag himself up. So many punishments and he’s still not gotten very good at putting bandaids on his owies. It might have been easier if he didn’t have to reuse them, they lose their stickiness after the first time. 

Even if he didn’t have to worry about the debt, there’s no world in which he’d be allowed a doll. Daddy would be livid if he thought he was embracing something so very un-alphan. Tim wouldn’t get away with the toy simply being thrown away this time. 

But it’s so soft. He runs his fingers through the delicate yarn and he knows that Mommy’s hair wouldn’t feel the same, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. It’s the same color, and it’s just as silky as hers looks after she’s just brushed it. She’d never let him touch, saying he’d tarnish her appearance, but he can pretend. Tim is very good at pretending. 

The doll doesn’t smell like Mommy either. But he doesn’t think there are any toys around that smell of wine. Even if there were, he’s not sure if Mr. Wayne would allow it. He’s heard alphas are very territorial about that sort of thing, even if that’s a primitive notion. 

Dick squats down and Tim barely resists the urge to hide the dollie from his sight. He looks at the older boy and can’t help but wonder if his hair would feel just as nice. There’s no way he’ll be allowed such an intimate sort of scenting, but he can’t stop himself from thinking it. 

“That looks like a very nice doll,” Dick coos, scent pumping out to envelop him in another level of reassurance. “Would you like to get it?”

“Not allowed,” Tim mumbles, too distracted stroking a finger over the dollie’s rosy cheek to think better of it. He hopes he doesn’t tarnish the fabric too terribly with his milky stench. He’d hate for another pup to not be able to get it because it reeks too much of Tim. The dollie would get lonely, sitting on the shelf forever and ever. 

Dick doesn’t refute this immediately, the way Tim is almost anticipating him to. “Would your parents not let you?” Dick asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. He is, afterall, the only one to have seen his original teddy bear’s hiding spot back home. 

He wishes he had left his teddy there. His teddy might have been lonely but at least it would have been there when Tim went back home. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “not allowed.”

Dick reaches forward and strokes his face the same way he did to the doll, rubbing a thumb back and forth over his cheek. His pheromones bloom around him. “Sweetheart, the rules are different now. B isn’t going to be mad at you for wanting a toy.”

Tim knows better than to argue, but maybe he can explain so long as he is quiet enough for the other two Wayne’s to not overhear. “But it’s an omega toy. Daddy says ‘m s’pposed to be an alpha.” 

“Your parents can’t decide what dynamic you present as. No one can, it’s always a surprise,” Dick refutes right away, not meanly. “It’s the same with toys, wanting a doll doesn’t mean you’ll present as an omega. You’re more than welcome to get it.” 

Dick is wrong, he has to be. Daddy wouldn’t have worked so hard to ingrain alphan traits in him if it was fruitless. Drakes are nothing if not efficient. 

Tim doesn’t know how else to explain without it seeming outright disrespectful. He knows he ought to put the dollie back, but he’s not ready to go through the same ordeal as with the Legos a second time. So he gives in, knowing it’s futile to disobey.

He hides the subtly pleased lilt of his pheromones to know he’ll finally have a new dollie, knowing it’ll only lead to future punishment. 

They finish up the rest of the toy aisles much more quickly, with nothing else catching Tim or the Waynes’ eyes. Mr. Wayne makes the ultimate decision to head towards the electronics section, ‘just to look’, he says. Tim ignores just how much he has to go potty and follows along. 

As they’re walking, they pass by the kids sports section that they missed earlier. He flicks his eyes over, meaning to just take a glance, but then he sees the skateboards. 

Tim doesn’t mean to wander off. He really doesn’t. He just wants a quick look, really fast. He’ll be super speedy, like that hero he saw playing on the news once. Few galas have TVs (galas are meant for networking, not playing, Mommy says) but sometimes he gets to watch for a few moments. At one event a TV had been tucked in a far away corner, playing the news. Tim got to see footage of so many superheroes, all the strongest and bravest people fighting on the screen before him. Mommy pulled him away as soon as she realized what he was watching, but he won’t forget how fantastical it was. 

He meanders just a bit closer once he sees the real life skateboards on display have superhero designs! He’s never ridden on one before but they look like some of the coolest things ever. Maybe the Waynes have one he could look at. That would be amazing. Even if he couldn’t try, at least he could bear witness. Earlier Jason was talking all about his bike without training wheels, so he knows they definitely approve of some athletic pursuits. 

It was by total chance that he saw a skateboard being ridden before. There was an event his parents brought him to and at the end the valet had been late bringing back the car. Tim had stood shivering next to his Mommy while Daddy yelled at one of the workers. There was nothing to do but wait and take it all in. It was not often, after all, that his parents allowed him outside of the Manor. It was late, far past when he would usually go to sleep, so there wasn’t much to see, but even the little bit of the city before him was fascinating in itself.

A few teenagers had gone zooming past on the opposite sidewalk, riding on what he quickly learned were skateboards. The image of them flying past in a blur of colour, the sound of laughing trailing behind, is burned into his brain. His Mommy had muttered about the audacity and carelessness of such pups and told him that Tim had to be better than that. 

He knows Mommy would never approve of him even looking at skateboards now. But they’re even cooler up close than he thought. All sorts of designs and themes. Even some Batman ones! He reaches a hand out, just wanting one touch. 

He brushes his fingers over the bold painting of Gotham’s skylight decorating on board. In the middle of the deck you can see the distinct outline of Batman and Robin grappling between buildings. Their silhouettes are a stunning contrast to the vibrant colors. He can’t help but think that it would make an epic photo. 

He’s running his fingers over the painting when he hears his name being called, “Timmy? Timmy, baby, where’d you go?”

His tummy immediately swells up enough to stifle his lungs, making him begin hiccuping on his breath. God, he really screwed up this time. Maybe the brownie was poisoned because his tummy won’t stop hurting. 

He clutches his keychain to his chest, pulling away from the skateboard, knowing he can’t weasel his way out of a punishment now. He won’t get the chance to say goodbye to this teddy bear either, not when Dick is rushing forward, Mr. Wayne and Jason following closely behind. 

“Sweetheart,” Dickie gasps, “You can’t just wander off. If there’s something you want to see, tell us and we’ll bring you.”

Tears well up before Dick even finishes scolding him. “‘M sorry,” he blubbers. Apologies aren’t going to fix things, he knows. He just doesn’t know what else to say. There’s only so many words that are allowed when he’s being punished. Daddy takes pleasure in limiting his vocabulary. He hopes Mr. Wayne won’t take away the few words he has left. 

The alpha in question comes forward next, brow furrowed and mouth pinched at the edges. Tim already mourns the feeling of being unbruised. 

“Timmy,” the alpha begins, and Tim whimpers. “You are not in trouble, but please just ask if you want to look at something.” Tim apologizes again, despite knowing full well that mere words are never enough to make up for his mistakes. Mr. Wayne sighs with the weight of a gavel against a sound block. “What was it you were looking for?”

The only reason to admit it is so they can discipline him accordingly, so he points towards the sports aisle. 

“Skateboards?” The alpha questions, and Tim can hardly muffle his sniffles when they’re so persistent. 

Dick shows pity on him, despite how mad his dad must be. “Oh, honey, come here. We’re not upset with you, it just scared us.” He hushes him when he apologizes again so Tim knows he lost the right to talking. He’s surprised it took so long. 

Dick pulls him into an embrace and even his soothing pheromones do little to calm him now. When Tim does nothing but tremble against him, the omega simply scoops him up. Tim curls into his hold, hiding against his chest. He squeezes the teddy keychain in between their bodies in a vain attempt to protect it. He won’t let this bear be drowned, no matter how much it’ll hurt. 

Dick is bouncing him soothingly in his arms when Jason comes up close, cherry pumping out just as heavily as the honey is. “Timmy, hey, it’s okay. You’re not in real trouble,” he whispers, low enough that only his brother and Tim can hear. “I’ve wandered off plenty and the most I’ve had to do is just hold Dad or Dickie’s hand after.” Tim wants to say that it’s different for him. He’s not a Wayne, he doesn’t belong. He doesn’t even get the chance to try before Jason is continuing, “Why don’t we go look at the skateboards? I think that would be fun!”

Tim shrugs, knowing that ultimately it’s not up to him. 

He peeks an eye out and Jason gives him an easy grin, showing off the gaps in his mouth where his baby teeth must have fallen out, “I’ll ask Dad!” Tim lifts his head, about to tell him to stop please, but Jason’s already bouncing over to his pack alpha. “Dad! We can go look at the skateboards, right? ‘Cause we’re not in trouble, so we can totally look, right?”

Mr. Wayne sighs at the exact same time Dick does and Tim doesn’t know what precisely Jason said wrong but he has plenty of guesses. He doesn’t allow himself to be any more cowardly, knowing he deserves to see the discipline dealt out no matter how much he wants to hide away. He watches Mr. Wayne’s expression change. His brow smooths over, the wrinkles in his forehead easing so a small smile can instead appear. He doesn’t understand. He’s so incredibly sick and tired of not understanding. 

“Of course. You’re right, Jaylad,” Mr. Wayne breathes out. “Let’s head over.” 

Just like that, Mr. Wayne and Jason begin once again pushing the carts while Dick carries Tim into the sports aisle. Even though he’s being brought along, somehow he still feels left behind. 

It’s so stupid. Tim got himself and both his friends in trouble just to look at something he’ll never be allowed to have. There’s no point in getting a toy he doesn’t know how to use when he knows he won’t have enough time to even learn. He doesn’t know how much time he has left until Mommy and Daddy get back from their trip but surely not enough to learn a whole new skill. 

He doesn’t know what came over him, thinking he had the right to walk away from the alpha currently in charge of him, to look at something so improper. Childish and useless and all the things he’s not supposed to be anymore. 

Tim lets out a shaky exhale against Dick’s neck, getting a deep breath of love-safety-pack before he decides he ought to be put down. He has no right to be held when he’s the one who put them in this mess. He wriggles a bit and when Dick adjusts his hold, he says, voice half a whine in his worry, “Can I be put down, please?”

Dick hums, immediately lowering him, “Here you go, lovely.” He ruffles his hair but does nothing else to otherwise contain him. Though, remembering Jason’s not-warning, he reaches for Dick’s hand. The omega doesn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers. Dick gives his hand three squeezes, not painfully, and he doesn’t know what it means but he does it back, just in case. It must have been the right decision because the omega gives him the most dazzling smile in response. 

Tim turns his attention back over to the other two. At this point he’s not surprised to see Jason bouncing on his toes, pointing out all the gear he likes best. Tim can’t comprehend how Jason is still not worried. Tim doesn’t know where such fearlessness could come from when the pack alpha remains looming over them. Maybe the little omega doesn’t know any different. 

Dick rubs his thumb over the back of his hand and slowly guides him closer to Jason. “Which one caught your eye?” He asks, giving Tim the chance to look once again.

There’s no point in lying, so with the hand clutching the keychain, he points to the Batman and Robin board.

Dick rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. “That one looks really awesome. I bet if you liked it enough to come over here on your own then it must be really important to you. You wouldn't get in trouble for that, puppy.” Tim doesn’t know about that, but he does know that he likes holding Dick’s hand. And he likes the way he’s talking to him so gently. He doesn’t seem about to hurt him, even if he did wander off before. “Have you ever skateboarded before?” Though that doesn’t mean his alpha won’t. 

He shakes his head, and he doesn’t get insulted for it. 

“Would you like to learn?” Dick asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of him, nothing mean in the cadence of his voice. Tim would like to. He won’t have the time to master it by any means, but if Dick says he can, maybe he can try. And if he’s meant to be indebted anyway, maybe he can choose this toy as well. So Tim nods, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter. “Are you comfortable if I ask Dad if you can get one?”

Tim wants to say no just on the off chance that any of them are punished for his greediness. As much as he wants the skateboard, it can’t be worth the time-out or spanking or whatever it is the omegas might get. They don’t deserve such immense pain. 

He’s trying to find the right words to decline when Jason pipes up, “Ooh! What if we all learn how to skateboard! It can’t be that hard, right? And Dickie, you have such great balance I bet you’ll pick it up right away! Then you can teach me and Timmy.” Jason is practically vibrating in excitement, bouncing up and down on his toes in a way that’s got to be ruining his shoes. His scent flourishes through the aisle, alerting any passing customers of happy omega pup.

His pheromones must be manipulating Tim’s sense of reason because excitement bubbles up at the suggestion. Not only having a skateboard but having two friends to learn with sounds like the sort of thing Tim would dream about, if Mommy didn’t think dreams too were too pupish. “Could we really?” He asks, despite himself. 

If it were either of his parents that Tim had wandered away from, he would have been punished already. So the only logical answer must be that Mr. Wayne is waiting until they get home to dish out consequences. 

“I’m sure Dad wouldn’t mind,” Dick says. “Here, stand with Jay for a minute while I ask.” He pulls his hand towards Jason and the younger omega takes his spot, intertwining their fingers with a pleased grin. Tim thinks he looks like a cat that’s gotten the cream, smug in a way that’s hard to place, but that’s fitting somehow. Though what Jason has to be pleased about right now, while he’s stuck holding Tim’s hand, he has no idea. 

Dick goes over to where Mr. Wayne is standing guard over the shopping carts and he tries to listen in on their conversation but then Jason is speaking up again. “I really hope we can get the skateboards together. If Dad lets us, we might even be able to practice today since it’s barely afternoon.” 

Tim shoves down the fluttering hope inside him, knowing it’ll only leave him red-cheeked and heaving if he gets humiliated again. He nods along, not wanting to discourage his friend, even if he knows it’s a futile wish. He rubs the tiny teddy bear against his cheek soothingly, letting the soft fur act as a pseudo-scenting. Between that and Jason rocking their hands back and forth in time with his bouncing he finds his chest not aching too terribly. 

Jason keeps up his excited jabbering, successfully distracting him until Dick and Mr. Wayne walk over. “So, pups, you three may each pick out a skateboard so long as we also grab the necessary safety equipment.” The alpha lifts a hand and gestures to the array of elbow and knee pads, in all sorts of sizes and colors. 

“Yes! Thank you!” Jason exclaims, letting go of Tim’s hand and bounding over to his dad. Tim winces, fearing the man’s reaction to such brazen excitement. Though, when Jason hops up into Mr. Wayne’s personal space, he doesn’t shove him away. He catches Jason easily, embracing him the same way Dick likes to hold Tim. Jason blatantly and purposefully nuzzles into the alpha’s chest in a way that makes Tim’s eyes well up. He’s hyperaware of Mr. Wayne’s every twitch, watching both hands, ensuring Jason doesn't unwittingly earn a special punishment with his overabundance of affection. 

Mr. Wayne has one hand under Jason’s bottom and the other wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t appear to be squeezing too tightly but if Jason has preexisting bruises from spending the night in his bed then he knows even the slightest touch becomes torturous. He watches closely but Mr. Wayne’s hands don’t appear to slip under Jason’s clothes. 

He doesn’t linger. Mr. Wayne presses a kiss to the top of Jason’s head and then places him back on his feet. That’s it. No punishment. Tim doesn’t get to stay lost in his wariness because Jason skips back over, asking him which skateboard he’s gonna pick. 

Tim ends up with the first one that caught his attention while Jason picks out a Wonder Woman themed board and Dick chooses a Superman one. There’s matching helmets of each corresponding superhero, so that makes it an easy decision. 

When it comes to the safety pads, Jason tries to argue he’s big enough he doesn’t need them. Dick quickly steps in before their dad can, showing him that they can all wear matching red ones. Jason concedes without further protest, to Tim’s immense relief. 

By the time they get everything into the cart it’s so full that he’s not sure how they’re going to add toiletries to the haul. 

Tim had forgotten all about the camera until Mr. Wayne mentions that the technology section happens to be near the hygiene aisles. 

When they head over Tim is taken aback by the amount of people milling around, all looking at various electronics. With his keychain held to his chest, he huddles close to the omegas. Jason’s babbling on about how thrilled he is to learn skateboarding together and Tim wants to meet his excitement head on, it’s just so hard when there’s practically a crowd around them. So many witnesses ready to see him inevitably embarrass himself. 

They find the camera section right away, and none of them look like Daddy’s camera. They’re far too colorful, far too infantile for a Drake. Pastel blues and baby pinks and light yellows, all the sorts of colors Daddy would disapprove of. Surely Mr. Wayne can’t intend to purchase one. 

It’s not until he begins reading the camera boxes that he finally understands. Tim had mistakenly thought that Mr. Wayne had been referring to a digital camera earlier, like the sort that Daddy has. But the only options on this rack are various Polaroid cameras. Tim knows what a Polaroid is. 

He regrets the brownie now more than ever. His tummy is turning inside out at the realization of what his punishment is. If this is how Mr Wayne punishes Dick and Jason then it’s no wonder why they’re so well behaved. 

One of Daddy’s friends has a Polaroid camera. It’s only for when he’s been very very bad. Mommy doesn’t like when Daddy’s friends take pictures during punishment, even if they print out immediately instead of being saved to the camera itself. She’s never outright explained but Tim knows it’s because of how unsightly he is in the photos. He was always crying, always bruised. So unworthy of the Drake name.

Tim never should have let his guard down. Of course this was all one big ploy to punish him. It’s cruel to ask Tim to pick out his own implement for punishment, knowing it’ll hurt so much more because of that illusion of choice. It must be the most effective method Mr. Wayne has. 

It might not be a spoon or a belt but it hurts just as much to get those awful pictures taken, just to be punished again for ‘messing up the photo’ with all his crying. It’s a cycle that only ends when Daddy’s friends tire or when Mommy tells them to quit it already, saying it’s much too loud to concentrate. 

Tim doesn’t want to. Someone asks him what color camera he wants and he doesn’t- he doesn’t want any. Not blue or pink or yellow. None of them, please. Why can’t Mr. Wayne choose when he’s the one punishing him? 

He points to one at random, uncaring of how pretty the means of his discipline is. He backs up until he bumps into the cart, flinching at the clatter it makes. He puts the keychain into the cart, knowing that too must be a transgression. He was foolish to believe he could actually make use of any of these toys when he’s done nothing deserving of such kindness. The writing was on the wall and apparently Tim has been illiterate this entire time. 

Tim told himself he’d be brave and he doesn’t feel it. He won’t let this new teddy be punished and yet it hardly feels courageous. It’s hard to feel anything at all past his convulsing lungs and his aching belly.

He shoves two fingers in his mouth and bites down as hard as he can bear. It hardly matters how babyish he looks when it’ll all end up the same anyway. With the cards on the table there’s no reason for Tim to act as any bigger than he is. 

Perhaps the worst part is, he doesn’t even know if he’ll be allowed to go potty before he is punished. 

The looming spectre of punishment is edging closer and closer, and Tim’s transgressions have only gotten greater. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to make up for all of these faults. He doesn’t think there’s a punishment great enough to wipe the slate clean. 

He wishes, more than anything, to be tucked away safely in his closet at home. Or even under the bed, somewhere no one can touch him. In that dark small space, where nobody can see or hurt him at all. He’s so tired of being lonely but he thinks this could be worse. He doesn’t know how to make it all stop.