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Dick Grayson stares at the grandfather clock, watching the second hand tick its way closer to eight o’clock. It’s almost time. In less than fifteen minutes, he will finally be able to legally set his Omega instincts at rest.
The warmth from the fireplace in the lounge does little to heat the chill that radiates bone-deep. The blue fleece blanket he’s wrapped himself in doesn’t make much difference either. Not when his instincts are crying out to him, not when they’ve been begging him to fix things for almost two years.
The minute hand on the grandfather clock shifts.
“Thirteen minutes left,” Dick says.
Each second feels like it lasts a week. He’s been close before, only to have it fall apart in the end. This time … this time he’s going to save Tim Drake. After tonight, the pup won’t be stuck in that huge mansion all alone, day after day after day. After tonight, Tim will be Dick’s baby brother.
When the clock chimes in the hour, Janet and Jack Drake will have been out of Gotham for one hundred and one consecutive days in a row. That length of an absence is considered legal abandonment of a pup. Dick will finally be able to bring the pup into the Wayne Pack as his baby brother without repercussions.
“Eleven minutes and twenty-six seconds,” Dick says, eyes riveted on the ornate, solid gold hands of the mahogany grandfather clock.
Ever since Dick first uncovered how often Janet and Jack Drake are out of Gotham, he’s relentlessly kept track of when they visit. They’ve been gone for ninety-three and eighty-seven consecutive days respectively since he noticed. Each time Dick had to restart the count hurt and enraged his Omega instincts even more.
The worst part is that Dick knows for a fact that Jack and Janet Drake love their pup. He’s been in the same room with all three of them at a few galas in the past. When Janet and Jack are in town, they smother Tim in love and care and protection.
That only makes their absences and neglect all the more unforgivable.
Because, yes, they love their pup. They just don’t love Tim more than their work.
“Nine minutes and fifty-three seconds,” Dick says.
Dick doesn’t understand it. It makes no sense to him at all. The Drakes aren’t as rich as Bruce Wayne is, but they’re still filthy rich. They could stay home without working. They could spend all day in the mansion next door, nurturing and educating their pup. They could— Dick growls, teeth bared. They could give Tim everything that Dick’s parents can no longer give Dick, love and cuddles and attention.
That Janet and Jack Drake choose not to do so, that they put travel and wealth over their own pup, makes Dick hate them with a fiery rage that’s usually reserved for the worst sort of criminals.
“Seven minutes and seventeen seconds,” Dick says as the time to act approaches.
His fingers are tangled together, squeezing so hard that it hurts. Nervous-anticipation overpowers his attempt to control his emotions, spilling everywhere. It’s bright and pungent. He breathes it in and tastes it on his tongue.
Dick isn’t sure what will happen if the Drakes appear in Gotham in the next seven minutes. It shouldn’t be possible. Their itinerary has them firmly in the Amazon. Satellite images from an hour ago showed them deep in the rainforest at an archeological dig. Logistically, there’s no way they can get back to Gotham in time to stop Dick from bringing Tim into the Wayne Pack.
Even knowing that, there’s an ember of fear-worry working its way into his scent-pile.
Pups aren’t meant to be alone. They’re supposed to be coddled and cuddled and loved and scented every single day. Knowing how often Tim is alone in the mansion next door makes Dick sick to his stomach.
If pup-napping weren’t such a severe crime, with penalties not even Bruce could gloss over, Dick would have snatched up Tim as soon as he realized what’s been happening.
“Three minutes and twenty-two seconds,” Dick says.
Hopeful-triumph floods the lounge; it’s so intense that it’ll probably scent the furniture. It’s technically poor manners to do that in a space that’s for the entire pack and not just personal use, but Dick can’t bring himself to care. At worst, Alfred Pennyworth will lecture him on appropriate behavior.
In a few minutes, Dick is going to have a brother. He’ll have a pup in his pack. Unlike the Drakes, Dick will treat Tim with all of the love and care that he deserves. Tim will never have to sleep alone if he doesn’t want to; Dick will gladly welcome the pup into his nest. Dick will hug him and scent him and pet and brush his hair.
It might hurt worse than getting stabbed to think about his beloved, dead parents on some days, but Dick treasures all of the memories he has with them. He will never forget how his mom used to brush his hair after baths. He will never forget how a hug from his dad felt like being folded inside a blanket fresh from the dryer. He will always cherish how they scent-marked him as precious-loved-pup-ours every single day.
Dick and his parents weren’t wealthy in the ways that the world says matter. But they were rich in ways that have Dick staring at people with pity during high society galas.
Money will never be more valuable than love and a caring family pack.
“Forty-six seconds,” Dick says.
Excitement-it’ll-really-happen pours off of Dick in waves as he pushes to his feet in a rush. The blue fleece blanket drops to the floor. The fireplace crackles and pops as if it’s cheering him on.
“What’s got you so excited, chum?” Bruce asks from the doorway, a smile on his face. Fond-indulgence wafts into the room to mix with Dick’s excitement.
“It’s almost eight o’clock,” Dick answers breathlessly.
The mahogany grandfather clock chimes the hour. Each intense, ringing chime sends more hope-happiness-finally from Dick’s scent glands. When the final chime ends, Dick snatches up the tablet computer on the side table. He taps in the passcode and checks the GPS information once, twice, and a third time to be absolutely certain.
Janet and Jack Drake are still in the Amazon rainforest.
It’s officially been a hundred and one days since they flew out of Gotham on a chartered jet. He can adopt Tim Drake into the Wayne Pack now. They’ll have no legal recourse to fight it.
Dick drops the tablet computer onto the chair he was previously curled up on, uncaring that it bounces off of the cushion and onto the floor with a quiet clatter. It’s not important right now. All that matters is getting over to the Drake mansion as soon as possible. All that matters is bringing Tim into the pack as his baby brother.
Today was the last day that Tim had to wake up alone, eat alone, or wander around that huge, empty mansion. Dick can finally fix it.
A purr rumbles from Dick’s chest as pleased-satisfaction drops into the air in a rush.
“What are you so pleased about, Dick?” Bruce asks as he walks over to pick up the tablet Dick dropped.
“I’m going out,” Dick says.
“You’re not patrolling tonight. You have an exam in two days,” Bruce replies.
“It’s not for patrol,” Dick says as he heads out of the room. “I won’t be long.”
Now that Bruce has the tablet, he has enough evidence to figure out what is going on. It’s the Pack Omega’s right to bring new members into a pack. He’s wanted Tim as his baby brother since he caught sight of the pup in downtown Gotham with a backpack, while out on patrol. It was that sighting, almost midnight on a chilly autumn evening, that drew Dick’s attention and made him wonder how Tim was able to sneak out without his parents noticing.
Dick will never forget how red Tim blushed when Dick swooped down and asked him what he was doing. The quickly stifled sheer-loneliness that wafted off of the pup in response triggered Dick’s instincts as an Omega. After that scent burned itself into his nose, they refused to be satisfied without a full investigation into the matter.
Because why would a tiny pup from a wealthy family be trying to run away?
Chivvying Tim into a taxi cab that night and sending him home took a great deal of willpower. All Dick wanted at the time was to curl around the pup in a nest and read him a bedtime story.
Tonight, that wish can finally come true.
Dick runs through the hallways of Wayne Manor, leaving a trail of delight-joy-surprise in his wake.
“Where are you going at this hour, Master Dick?” Alfred asks as Dick opens the front door.
“To get my brother!” Dick answers with a burst of laughter.
He doesn’t stick around long enough to see how Alfred will react. Knowing the butler, Alfred will have the room next to Dick’s prepared for use by the time Dick returns with Tim in tow.
The run to the Drakes’ mansion seems to pass in the blink of an eye.
Dick presses the doorbell and then rocks back onto his heels. He rolls back to his toes and then repeats the action. His anticipation builds as he waits for Tim to answer the door. Whether he knew it or not, Dick has thought of the pup as his baby brother for almost two years now. He’s so excited that it will finally be official that he can’t contain himself.
His scent is a mess of emotions that fairly screams I’m-so-happy-that-I-could-fly.
When the door opens, Dick lunges forward and latches onto Tim. He hugs the pup tightly and rubs his chin on the pup’s silky black hair. He’s so small; he feels fragile in Dick’s arms. And he’s as cold as ice. It’s a side effect of touch starvation. It must be. Pups need to be cuddled and petted on a daily basis to be healthy.
It’s only Dick’s extensive training under Bruce’s direction that keeps the hate he feels for Janet and Jack from spilling into his scent-pile and scaring Tim.
“Dick?”
A whiff of confused-longing reaches Dick’s nose before it’s ruthlessly smothered with truly impressive scent control.
“What are you doing here? Can I help you with something?” Tim asks as he tentatively returns Dick’s hug. His grip is light as if he’s not entirely sure this is real.
Dick leans back and wants to punch Tim’s parents in the face as a hint of aching-loneliness reaches him before Tim squashes it back under his control. Dick gently grasps Tim’s chin, tilts his head, and licks the right side of his neck—the side for pack family—adopting him into the Wayne Pack in the process.
The pack bond flourishes into existence in Dick’s chest with all the force of a battering ram.
Tim’s face crumples. He bursts into tears and throws himself against Dick’s chest, clinging so tightly that Dick might have bruises tomorrow. The dam that Tim uses to hold back his scent fractures. I-was-so-lonely-I-thought-I-would-die and overwhelming-gratitude and I-can’t-believe-this-is-real and I-won’t-let-you-regret-this and someone-wants-me slam into Dick hard enough that he staggers back a step.
“Of course, I want you,” Dick replies as he scoops the pup off of the ground and onto his hip.
Tim buries his face against Dick’s neck, sobbing, and rubs his cheek against the scent glands there over and over. He’s getting tears and snot on Dick’s skin, but Dick doesn’t mind. Tim must have been in pain for years. He might have even run away that night Dick saw him in downtown Gotham hoping that Batman and Robin would notice a runaway pup and intervene. He might have spent years alone in this mansion wishing that they would save him too, never knowing that they lived right next door.
Pups aren’t meant to be alone.
It’s unforgivable how Janet and Jack Drake have repeatedly left Tim behind, instead of taking him with them. They don’t deserve Tim. Now, he isn’t theirs anymore. Now, he’s Dick’s baby brother. And Dick will never neglect him. He won’t give anyone a chance to steal Tim away from him.
The only way that pack members get to leave Dick is if they die. He has no intention of ever letting Tim leave him behind.
“Thank you! Thank y-you! Thank you!” Tim sniffles wetly against his neck. “You won’t r-regret it. I’ll be so g-good for you. I p-promise!”
Dick kisses Tim’s forehead with wet eyes as sheer-desperation-please-believe-me pummels him. Pups shouldn’t smell like this. They shouldn’t— Dick swallows roughly and ruthlessly suppresses the violence he wants to inflict on Tim’s parents. The pup doesn’t need to smell that, especially not when Tim might misinterpret it entirely given the current circumstances.
“I’ll never regret it, pup. I promise,” Dick replies as he pets Tim’s hair, rubbing safe-cared-for-baby-brother-mine into the strands.
Dick doesn’t understand how Janet and Jack Drake could bear to be away from their pup. His pup-brother now. Tim is so sweet and precious.
“Does … does this m-mean I get to l-live with y-you now?” Tim whispers, acute-yearning covering him thickly enough it might as well be a blanket.
“Yes,” Dick answers as he continues petting Tim’s hair, “you get to live with me. You’re part of the Wayne Pack now, Baby Bird. I’m going to hug and cuddle you every single day. You can sleep in my nest whenever you want.”
Tim cries even harder, hiccoughs falling from his lips where they’re pressed into the skin of Dick’s neck. He clings even more tightly to Dick than before.
Dick locks and shuts the front door before he turns back toward Wayne Manor. It’s chilly out. He doesn’t want his little brother to get sick.
“Let’s go home,” Dick says as he overlays protective-love-baby-brother-possessive-mine onto Tim.
Tim shakes in his arms and whispers, “You’re my hero, Dick.”
“Baby Bird.”
Dick’s breath catches in his throat. He’s heard the first three words countless times, but never in relation to his civilian identity. Robin is the hero. Dick is an orphaned Omega, notable only in Gotham for being Bruce Wayne’s ward. He has saved hundreds of people in his tenure as Robin.
And yet … and yet.
Dick has never felt more like a hero than he does at this moment right now, right here, with this pup in his arms.