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This heat was going to be bad. Jason was still in his preheat and he was already cramping, his skin flushing. He had to end patrol two days early because even he could smell the pre-heat overwhelming his patches.
He shoved the blankets under the bed, trying to organize it into a good nest. This is all Bruce’s fault ! It always was. Jason groaned as another shudder passed through him. Bruce had finally invited Jason to the cave to work on a case together. Jason had cautiously accepted, not having anything to do with his former home and pack besides the occasional meetup until this point.
Going was a mistake. It wasn’t the sight of the cave, or the sounds of laughter echoing. It was the smell . It smelled of home. It smelled of late movie nights, of protection, of lazy days doing nothing, and days where he trained all day. It smelled of home. A home that no longer existed. The memories overwhelmed him, causing him to run from the cave. His preheat had started the next day.
Jason crawled into the nest hidden under the bed. Before he died, he would have gone to Bruce, would have let his alpha comfort him through the pain and disorientation. But Batman had made it clear where Jason stood. Jason brushed his fingers over the scar on the side of his throat as he curled up into his blankets. The batarang had cut deep. Deep enough to destroy his scent gland. Batman had drawn a line, and Jason was on the other side of it.
Dick panted as he leapt to the next building, tramping tightly down on his fear. “The working girls don’t know anything more. They have the same info as us,” he reported over the comm to Batman. The same info. That Red Hood had last been seen patrolling 6 days ago, two days after Jason had nearly sprinted out of the cave. There had been no sight nor smell of his brother since. Dick had started to get nervous after the third day of no sightings, but Bruce had tried to make them wait a week. He had caved earlier that day though, his anxiety clear in his scent. Bruce never liked not knowing where his pups were, especially after Jason’s death.
“Start checking safehouses,” Batman’s gruff voice sounded. “I’m moving east from the far side.” Batman was good at keeping his emotions out of his voice, but Dick had known the man in and out of the suit for over a decade. He could hear the slight wobble of fear in Batman’s voice.
Dick acknowledged and started moving again. Safehouse after safehouse was empty. No signs that Jason had visited them in the last few days. Dick was muttering a prayer as he undid the security measures on the next one, bracing his fingers and forcing the window up. He almost fell off the fire escape as the smell hit him. He slipped inside, slamming the window shut to keep more of the smell from escaping. The smell of an omega-in-heat.
While it was unlikely that Dick had entered the wrong apartment (judging by the level of security on the window), it was possible that Jason had loaned out one of his safe houses to an omega in need. So Dick just stood and breathed, parsing through the scent. Jason had never removed his scent blockers around them since he had come back. Dick didn’t even know if his scent had changed. But the scent permeating the apartment was familiar, achingly so. It matched the scent that had lingering for months after Ethiopia. The scent that clung to old clothing that Bruce kept insisting on bringing into the nest. The scent in the apartment was of paper, of sandalwood, of home .
Jason being in heat would have explained part of his disappearance, though not all of it. Heats only usually last for a few days, not necessitating Jason’s week-long disappearance. Dick followed Jason’s scent to the bedroom, easing the door open. The room was empty. His anxiety jumped. Where was Jason!?
A whimper echoed through the room. Dick stiffened, scanning the room again, trying to smell past the almost overwhelming scent to pinpoint Jason’s location. The whimper sounded again, from under the bed! Dick lowered himself carefully onto his stomach, switching his mask to night vision to get a better view.
Jason! There he was, curled into the far corner, asleep. His nest of blankets was pulled in close, empty water bottles and food wrappers scattering the floor. He didn’t look good. Jason shivered, letting out another whimper. And even though the goggles Dick could see a sheen of sweat on his brother. Pain shot through Dick’s heart. He hated seeing his brother like this, seeing Jason like this. Jason, who could talk circles around the Riddler, who could take on an entire warehouse full of henchmen and walk away. Curled up, alone and suffering in a corner.
Dick jumped up and ran into the kitchen, determination hardening within him. “B, I found him!” He rattled off the address before continuing. “He’s in heat B. It’s bad. Be gentle when you come in.” Dick opened the fridge, pulling out more water bottles. He didn’t know when Jason had run out, but there were no more under the bed. He also grabbed some of Jason’s more perishable food, the ones he must have been too nervous about bringing into his nest. He grabbed one of the cereal boxes from the cupboards along with fruit snacks. He then peeled off the top of his suit, tying it around his waist. He picked the blockers off his wrists and throat, allowing his scent to drift around the apartment. Jason had come to him once upon a time for help and comfort, knowing then he could lean on his alpha older brother to support him. He hoped his scent would provide it again.
He pushed the bedroom door back open, and a menacing growl sounded. Jason was awake.
There were alphas in his apartment. Jason cursed his heat, still unable to move from his nest. He ran out of water the previous day, but was unable to move to get more. Every time he tried his whole body cramped up, leaving him exhausted and in even more pain. One of the alpha’s had ignored his growling and had rolled an unopened bottle under the bed towards him. He didn’t touch it. Didn’t trust that it wasn’t laced with something. Crime Alley wasn’t kind to omegas. And the Red Hood would be an even bigger target.
They were talking. The second alpha had peeled off his scent blockers soon after arriving. Jason had let out a renewed snarl, the impossible scents filling his apartment, his nest. And it was impossible, because it smelled like Dick and Bruce, the smells pinging old memories of Home and Pack . But it was not true. Batman wouldn’t have come, not for him. Jason didn’t know how people had gotten ahold of their scents, but he had to alert Batman quickly. Who knew what kind of chaos you could cause with another person’s scent. Jason tried to will his body to move, to do something about the intruders that carried false scents, but all he could do was moan as his stomach seized again.
The first alpha, identifiable by the fact his chest was bare, lowered himself back onto the floor. He was far enough away that Jason couldn’t focus on him, couldn’t get more than a general sense of light skin and dark hair. “Hey Jason,” the alpha cooed.
Jason snarled back, gripping the knife he had packed into his nest. He had found that under the bed was the best place to nest when he lived on the streets. Even though it cornered him (a thought he was not comfortable with), it also meant that any attackers were limited in how they could get him, leaving Jason with a smaller area to defend. And it wasn’t like he would be able to run in his heat anyways.
Exacerbation and concern wharfed off the alpha before being overpowered by care and love. “Jason, please drink something.” Jason didn’t even have to glance at the bottle before he kicked it from under the bed, expertly aiming at the alpha’s face. The alpha leapt up to avoid the bottle, swore colorfully, and didn’t crouch back down. Jason felt a flash of victory. He was not about to go down without a fight. The voices murmured again, too low for Jason to make out.
The first alpha reappeared, laying on the ground near the head of the bed. Jason shifted, keeping as much as his body tucked behind him. The alpha cooed softly again, an alpha call to family. He didn’t flinch at Jason’s snarl, just pushed out more Safe scent.
Something latched onto Jason’s ankle and pulled. Jason screeched as he slid out from under the bed. He swung the knife, aiming for the hand holding him, his muscles screaming at the movement. But the knife bounced off the kevlar weave of armor. Jason swung again, ignoring the pain, aiming for the attacker’s exposed face. But the first alpha had pounced on his arm, quickly twisting the knife out of his grip. Fear slammed through him. He was now disarmed, in heat, and surrounded by two alphas. The second alpha, the one who had grabbed him, efficiently rolled Jason onto his back and pinned both of Jason’s hands into his grip. Then Jason was being hauled up, the alpha’s other hand gripping his hair as he was forced into the alpha’s lap, his nose slammed into the alpha’s neck. Big mistake! Jason curled back his lips, lunging for the alpha’s jugular. Then the smell hit him.
Home. Safe. Love. Protect. Alpha. Dad.
Jason went limp, the scent of his alpha overriding his aggression. He tried to fight it. Tried to fight the fake scent of Bruce. Because that was all it was. Bruce would never come for him. But the alpha was rubbing his cheek over Jason’s head, scent marking him. The first alpha crouched in front of them, rubbing his exposed wrists over Jason’s neck and arms, marking him as well. The scent of the two alphas covering the sharp tang of fear.
The alpha holding Jason had released his wrists and was carding his fingers through Jason’s hair, the slight tugging almost drawing a purr from him. Jason braced a hand against the alpha’s chest, pushing away from his neck. The alpha let him, the hand sliding down to rest on Jason’s back. Jason focused on his hand, at the feeling of leather and kevlar, at the bat symbol that his hand rested on. That certainly looked like the bat suit, down to the scuff on the bat where Jason tried to shoot Batman years ago. Why had he not buffed it out? Jason raised his eyes to the alpha’s unmasked face, to Bruce’s face. Impossible . The word must have slipped out of him because Bruce’s face tightened. The other alpha, who now looked incredibly close to Dick, shuffled forward into view, “What’s impossible, Little Wing?”
Jason let his eyes close, slumping back into Fake-Bruce’s neck. Even though it was a dream, he was going to stay in it as long as he could. The hand returned to his hair, though it had switched to a more frantic tug. Jason let out a groan at the pressure. “Jaylad?” Bruce’s voice floated from above him.
Jason let out a shudder as tears finally slipped from his eyes, the events of the past half hour suddenly overwhelming him. “B wouldn’t come for me.” Jason moved one of his now free hands to the line on his neck, the line Bruce had drawn. His constant reminder of where he stood with them. “Not pack,” was all he could murmur before his body went limp again. Fake-Bruce’s body tightened. Jason grumbled as fear and sadness started leaking out of the two alphas. There was a thunk as something heavy hit the floor. Jason could only manage a slight flinch.
A wrist, leaking Bruce’s scent, rubbed over the line. Hard enough that it felt like the alpha was trying to incorporate his scent into Jason’s skin. “You are pack,” Bruce’s growl sounded about him, though it wobbled slightly. “You have always been pack, and always will be.” A chuff sounded. A chuff of a father calling to his pups. Jason’s eyes slid open, staring at the Fake-Bruce above him. The chuff sounded again. The other alpha answered, but the alpha’s eyes didn’t move from Jason. Jason tried to swallow past the pain that call triggered. The pain of a broken pack bond. And slowly, so slowly, Jason responded to his father’s call.
Jason didn’t know how long he was in Fake-Bruce’s arms in his den. He didn’t know how he was moved to the waiting car. All his mind could really process was that he was pillowed on the alpha who was masquerading as Dick as the car rumbled down the road. The slight vibrations settled him further back into his mind as his body relaxed into the alpha. The alpha was still cooing, still rubbing his scent all over Jason. And Jason couldn’t find the strength to fight. The smell of his old pack was still messing with his brain.
The car stopped and the alphas moved. Jason was shifted back into Fake-Bruce’s arms, the alpha’s scent further depleting his strength as his body reacted to the smell of Safe, Pack.
They were moving up. A tight squeeze and another scent: older, male, beta. An apology came from Fake-Bruce, something about suits and emergency. The older beta just huffed and followed them out of the room.
Jason cracked open his eyes. The hallways looked familiar. The scents bringing back floods of memories. He didn’t realize he was crying until a tear hit his shoulder. Fake-Bruce clutched him tighter against the hard armor, shifting Jason so his head was tucked back against the alpha’s neck again.
The light dimmed as they entered another room and Jason was lowered onto soft bedding. He whimpered as the alpha disappeared, but was quickly surrounded by others; a female beta, a male omega, and a male pup. They were shifting him on the bed, the nest , propping up his head so they could get a straw into his mouth. He knew he shouldn’t drink whatever they were offering him, but he was too far lost in his heat to care. Water hit the back of his throat, and Jason drank greedily as he observed the others in the nest. They also looked suspiciously like his old pack. The Cass-lookalike was cradling his head while the Damien-lookalike was providing him with water. He even had the demon brat’s scowl down. The Tim-lookalike was off to the side, shuffling the bedding around and throwing some out, testing pillows and blankets for who knows what. Jason was too far into his heat to conjure up concern that someone was impersonating the bat family so well.
The Dick-lookalike, now devoid of his suit and in comfy clothes, slinked into the nest, replacing the female beta. The female beta and the old beta left the room as Fake-Bruce, also now in normal clothes, climbed into the nest carrying washcloths. Jason groaned when the cool cloths made contact with his skin, wiping away days of sweat. The Dick-lookalike gently held his head as he dabbed the washcloth on Jason’s face, cooing again. He was maneuvered again, his sweat-soaked shirt and shorts pulled off, allowing the others to clean him more thoroughly. The washcloths felt rough against his sensitive skin, making it feel like a deeper clean than it actually was. Slowly, the old smells of omega-in-heat was washed away, and was replaced with the smells of Pack. After each place was cleaned, one of them made sure to scent him, rubbing their wrists across his body. Coating him in the scent of Pack .
The two betas returned after he was cleaned and dressed again. The Tim-lookalike had even tucked a crazy soft blanket around Jason, one that obviously had passed the other omega’s standards (thankfully it didn’t feel like satin). The betas carried with them the heavenly scent of food . Jason keened from where he was propped against Fake-Bruce’s chest, the alpha’s arms locking Jason into the alpha’s side. The other pack members started grabbing various bits, but the older beta kneeled by Jason, holding out a spoon of mango ice cream. Fake-Bruce's chest rumbled with a laugh as Jason moaned around the spoon, “Haven’t seen you go this soft Alfred since his first heat.”
The older beta, Alfred , huffed, “I, at least, still remember what his favorite heat food is.” The older beta swiped his wrist on Jason’s neck, also implanting his scent.
None of it made sense. Who was this pack? How did they know how to take care of him? Why would they help him? The only pack he knew had turned on him, pushing him away. Or was it him who pushed them away? It was hard to think with everyone here, all the smells letting him know he was safe , that he was pack . But that couldn’t be true…could it?
Jason called for his pack, the sound soft, but so loud in the quiet nest. The old beta paused, spoon hovering in the air. A half dozen eyes snapped towards him, the alpha holding him tensing. Jason called again, hoping, praying. He had made this call in Ethiopia. He whispered it as he wandered Gotham. He screamed it when he surged out of the Pit. He had whimpered it when facing Batman with the Joker. No one ever answered. His pack was gone!
Jason tried, one last time. Hoping, praying. And for the first time in 5 years, someone answered.
Jason felt like he was crawling out from under 10 weighted blankets. His body was exhausted, his mind still very slow. The last day was a haze in his mind. He was safe, he knew that much. An arm was curled around his chest, another body pushing against his front. And the smells, it smelled… like…
Fuck.
Jason was fully awake as he opened his eyes to the Wayne pack nest. He successfully bit back his groan as his eyes darted over the nest. It was well made, he would give the Replacement credit for that. The Replacement was currently though curled up against Jason’s chest, hugging Jason’s arm around his stomach. How the idiot could even sleep being so close to his attacker… Jason didn’t even try to understand what went through that head. Careful scenting identified Bruce being the one wrapping around him from behind, which tracked with the band of steel holding him in place. He could also smell Dick and Damien, so they must be elsewhere in the nest. Cass’s scent was also there, but it was fainter.
Jason had to get out of here. He couldn’t deal with the obligation his previous pack obviously felt for him. Why else would they bring someone who is not pack to their nest? How had they even found him? He made sure that no one could scent him going into his heat. And he was positive they were still mad about his fuck-up in the cave… last week? How much time had passed?
Luckily, their current positioning was in Jason’s favor. He wriggled gently, testing to see if Bruce or Tim was going to react with any awareness. Neither of them made a sound or tensed up. Still in deep sleep.
Next, Jason carefully moved Bruce’s arm away from him and wrapped it around Tim as well, placing it in the same place Jason’s arm had been resting. He pulled his arm away and braced against the bed. Then, with all the bat and assassin training he had, Jason slipped out from between them. Bruce murmured, tugging Tim back against his chest, into the space Jason had just vacated. Jason couldn’t help his satisfied smile. Tim’s omega scent would also hopefully confuse Bruce enough for Jason to get away. He slipped out of the nest and took stock. He was wearing some of Bruce’s clothing, not his usual heat attire. None of his other usual heat stuff was there either, which was good. All except one. He looked mornfully at his favorite blanket (did they steal that from his apartment?) which was currently under Dick and Damien. The two of them were about a foot away from the others, Damien’s hair only a tuft at the center of the human-shaped cinnamon roll that was Dick. There was no way he was getting that without waking someone, and he did not want to deal with that. He would just ask Alfred to give it back later, hopefully after it was cleaned so it didn’t trigger another intense heat.
He slipped out the door, leaving it cracked open so it didn’t click. The hallways were silent, Alfred probably either asleep or in the kitchen on the other side of the manor. But Jason still sniffed as he passed silently over the familiar floorboards (memories of sneaking through the house helping him know where the squeaky ones were), determined not to be snuck up on. The familiar hallways sent pain pinging through his chest, making it hard to breathe. He remembered the rare moments of hide and seek with Dick, sleepy morning walks down to the kitchen for breakfast, riding the bannister down exactly one time before Alfred set him straight. He remembered family , he remembered home . But it wasn’t anymore. Because over the familiar sights and smells were new ones. More shoes at the door. A backpack propped against the wall. New scents marking the hallways. Always just when Jason thought that maybe he could come back, maybe everything would be alright, a new thing reminded him that there was no back. They had moved on. It was time Jason did too.
Jason silently opened the side door, the fresh air from outside chasing the last of his heat-addled mind away. The sun was setting again, the long shadows from the trees nearly reaching the door frame. Maybe he would send the Wayne Pack a fruit basket as a thank you for helping him through his heat. Along with a strongly worded letter that reminded them that they had no obligation to help him, that he was fine on his own.
A low growl didn’t provide enough warning before steel bands wrapped around his waist. Jason squawked as he was lifted up and turned roughly away from the door. He twisted, Bruce’s scent reaching his nose as his eyes made contact with blue-grey ones. And they were mad . “Bruce,” Jason tried gently as he struggled, “put me down.” He didn’t know how awake Bruce was. He braced to be thrown to the floor, to fight. He was prepared for Bruce to not recognize him and treat him like any other intruder. Because Jason couldn’t think of another reason why Bruce would be so mad.
He was not prepared though for Bruce to only growl as he tossed Jason over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, calloused hands locking around his right wrist and knee. Jason struggled harder as he was carried further into the house, away from the open door. The door closed, Cass appearing from the shadows to walk silently behind them, a slight spring in her step. “Cass, help me,” he nearly begged her. Surely she would remember that he wasn’t an intentional intruder, surely she could talk Bruce down from whatever he believed Jason to be.
Cass just cocked her head at him, “Little brother should still be in nest.”
Jason froze as he brain screeched to a halt. What the hell does that mean? Jason’s heat was done. They had fulfilled their misplaced obligation. There was no way that they… Jason smelled Bruce, really focused on the scent. Anger, panic, worry, protect. Was Bruce mad that he had left the nest? No. Not possible. Jason struggled again, running through the drills Bruce had hammered into him about how to break this hold. Cass only smiled behind him, watching him struggle, but not doing anything to help.
Jason stopped wriggling as Bruce made his way back up the stairs, not ready to risk them falling. But at the top, he dramatically leaned forward, making Bruce overcompensate before yanking himself back. Bruce tumbled backwards, releasing Jason to catch himself. Jason used the momentum to roll away from Bruce down the hallway. He sprung up, ready to race for the window at the end of the hallway when Cass slammed into him. He went down, his knees slamming into the floor. He tried to grab Cass, but she was too fast. She swung onto his back and teeth pressed against his neck.
He tried to fight the submission coursing through him. It should be easier because Cass was only a beta, but Jason was too near his heat to truly fight it. He went down, Cass catching his shoulders before he face-planted. Relaxation coursed through his body as Cass rubbed the bite, scenting him and effectively scruffing him. He still tried to shift away, moaning a no as Bruce made his way towards them. Bruce crouched down, rolling Jason onto his back, “Jay, are you alright?” Bruce’s scent was one of annoyance, of concern, of love as he checked Jason over.
Jason managed to fight the submission enough to form words, “What’er you do’ng?”
Bruce paused his check over. “Bringing you back to the nest,” he answered with a hint of confusion in his voice. Like he couldn’t imagine why Jason was asking.
Jason slowly shook his head, “Why?”
The last bit of annoyance faded from Bruce’s eyes, replaced by pain and love. “Because you are my son, Jay. Because I want you there.”
Bruce gently picked him up, slotting Jason’s face into his neck. Jason breathed in the scent of his father, trying to sort through the words and the scent. “But I’m not pack.”
Bruce brought a hand up as he walked them down the hallway, sliding it over the scar on his neck. “You have always been pack, Jason. And you will always be.”
Jason was too tired to sort through those words as they continued down the hallway. Cass walked alongside, carding her fingers through his hair. “Silly little brother,” she huffed as they neared the nest room.
More scents filled the hallway. Damien was in the middle of the hallway, feet planted in annoyance. He glared as Bruce made his way closer with Jason. Dick slid up on Bruce’s other side, eyes flashing with laughter, “You really thought you could sneak out on this family, Little Wing?” Jason could only glare back, the submission not giving him much control over his limbs. But Jason was sure that Alfred would still make him pay for what he thought about flashing Dick.
Tim barely managed to poke his head into the hallway. He squinted, murmured something about it being too early, and disappeared back into the dark room. The rest of the pack, sans Alfred, followed. For the second time in as many days, Jason was lowered by Bruce into the Pack Nest. He was a lot more coherent this time though, and made his protests known. Dick huffed, “Jaybird, you are barely out of your heat. You should know better that you still can’t fully take care of yourself yet.” Dick entered the nest and placed Jason’s head on his lap, “Let us care for you a bit more. Let us help. ”
Jason wanted to protest, to point out that he had been dealing with his heats for years on his own. That he was the goddamned Red Hood and he didn’t need or want their help! But then Dick started playing with his hair. Tim curled up against his chest. Damien laid along his legs. Bruce pulled all of them closer to him. And Cass draped his favorite blanket over them. The blanket smelled of his old pack, of safety, of love. And Jason…Jason figured staying a little while longer wouldn’t hurt.