Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason stalks through the halls of Titans Tower, a place they’ve only been a few times. It was surprisingly easy to get in, considering that the normally paranoid Batman had, in a rare lapse in site security protocol, left their tower access code active. The alpha and omega walked together, the iconic red helmets of the crime lords ruling the Alley with iron fists concealing their faces for now. Tim Drake, the replacement, was alone in his room and now would be the perfect time to strike. It’s not like they were planning to kill him, just scare him enough that he would quit and send Batman a little reminder why he shouldn’t bring pups into his crusade against crime.

Their best-laid plans went straight out the window as soon as they heard the keen, a high and pleading sound of a packless pup in the throes of presentation calling for any omega in the vicinity, and it worked like a charm. Jace stood stock still and let out an answering croon, hoping to soothe the distressed pup and let them know that an elder omega was on the way. Jason hadn’t encountered packless pups since their resurrection and presentations, as no pup in the league was left packless, and Jace was entirely unprepared for the effect the keen would have on him. Without thinking about it, Jace had already removed his helmet so he could flood the halls with his protective nurturing omega scent and was making a beeline for the pup. Jay, feeling the effects on his pack omega through their bond, which was both pack and more than pack, let Jace take the lead, his still sealed helmet quickly filling with the musk of protective alpha.

Once Jace reached Tim’s room, he crooned to ask permission to enter, opening the door only at Tim’s answering keen, then swiftly closing the door behind him to keep the alpha out. Once inside, Jace swept to the bed, peeling the scent blockers off his wrists and gathering the pup in his arms to scent him until no trace of packless misery remained in his scent. As much as Jace would have liked to let the younger omega ride out his presentation in a familiar nest, this den was the home of other alphas, alphas that Jace wouldn’t be able to hold off like he could Jay, who was pack. This pup would never suffer the way Jace had, forced to take an alpha’s knot during dry heats and separated from the pack’s other omegas during their heats. Jay would abide by his pack omega’s commands because a battle between the two would have no clear winner and leave both in critical condition, but the same guarantee could not be made for the other alphas that called this den home, so Jay would take his pup home to his own den where Jay could protect his territory and Jace could protect his pup.

Decision made, Jace bundled his pup up in one of his blankets and stood up from the bed, exiting the den with his alpha in tow and darting into the beat-up motorhome that had brought them this far. Jason changed clothes and split, Jay taking up the driver’s seat and Jace snuggling up in the bed set over the cab with his pup, and they were on the road back to their den in Gotham City.

Chapter Text

When Bruce got the emergency call from the Titans, he zetaed over as soon as he could. He’d asked for more details, but the other members of the League had told him that it would be better to wait until he was there. When he arrived at Titans Tower, Clark ushered him into the security room and told him to sit.

“The first thing you need to know is that we think Robin was presenting,” He said, “His room and bed are absolutely saturated with the scent of a presenting omega.” This was worse than he thought. HIs pup had been presenting in the tower alone, without his pack and been taken by the Red Hoods while in that vulnerable state. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was for Bruce to deduce why Tim had chosen to spend his presentation heat in the tower; Tim’s upbringing in Drake Manor had left him with a litany of self-worth issues; Bruce and Dick discovered more every day. Tim still insisted on sleeping in Drake Manor because he wasn’t officially Bruce’s son, nevermind the fact that he spent more time and emotional effort on parenting than the Drakes did. He didn’t even know what to do about the Drakes, Bruce Wayne had no reason to know that their son was missing or know anything about what happened to him and Batman couldn’t just go over there and tell them their son was Robin. At least he had some time to figure this out, the Drakes were overseas at a dig somewhere, having left their unpresented pup at home completely alone as they had been doing since he was even younger.

“You said the first thing. There’s more?” Was Bruce’s response. If Clark had more bombshells to drop, he needed to get them out of the way. Then he could be Batman. Then he could bring his boy home.

“The Red Hoods entered using Jason’s code.” 

That was impossible. There was no way. Only Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and Barbara had known that code, which was why Bruce felt it was safe to keep it active. That and he couldn’t bring himself to deactivate it. Sure, he had set up the memorial in the cave, sure he had buried his son, but he could never bring himself to lock the boy out. But his sentimentality had left the door open for someone else, someone who somehow knew Jason’s code, which should be impossible, but they’d done it. The message was clear. It wasn’t a coincidence that they were using the Joker’s old alias, they wanted Batman to remember Jason, they wanted him to be thinking about digging through the rubble of the warehouse to find the burned and broken body of his sweet little pup, still unpresented at fifteen. They wanted him to be thinking about what they could be doing to Tim now, all the pain and torture they could be putting him through when he was his most vulnerable. Bruce counted his breaths, controlling his breath the same way he had taught his children, “What else?”

“A camera caught one of their faces.”

This was excellent news! He and Barbara had been working day in and day out to get any hint at who might be under either of the masks, but they’d had no leads, every trail had gone cold, and now they had a face. Bruce turned to the computer and pulled up the surveillance video. The clip was already saved and ready to play.

“B,” Said Clark, “I feel like I should somehow prepare you for this, but I don’t know how. I don’t think anything can prepare you for this.”

But Bruce wasn’t listening, he’d already started the video. It showed the hallway outside Tim’s room, empty for the first few seconds of the video before the Red Hoods walked into frame. They moved swiftly and carefully, like predators stalking their prey, and then they stopped. One of them simply stiffened and stood straight up, the other looked at their partner. The stiff one removed their helmet and-and he had Jason’s face. He looked like a version of his son who got to grow up, his features more filled out and mature. He’d clearly seen his son after his death (or, as horrible as it was, while the Joker was beating him) because the scars appeared to match the injuries he’d seen on Jason’s face when he’d pulled him from the rubble. They’d stolen Jason’s code and they’d stolen his face and now they’d stolen Tim. Bruce watched, dumbfounded, as the two approached Tim’s door, the maskless Red Hood knocked on the door and waited for a second before going inside, appearing to snarl at the other before going in. He reappeared a minute later carrying Tim, bundled up in a blanket. In the haze of his presentation, Tim was leaning into his captor’s chest instead of trying to escape. The video ended just after the trio left the frame. Bruce was further disturbed when he examined the crime scene in person and discovered that the Red Hood had also managed to mimic Jason’s scent. Aside from the omega pheromones and the slight tang of something acidic, it was a perfect scent match for his murdered pup.