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In the school bathroom, Damian curls up on the toilet seat, knees drawn to his chest, and suppresses a whimper.
The bathroom smells strongly of sour lemons and bleach, fear and anxiety pouring off him in waves and stinking up the whole room.
The hairs on the backs of his arms stand to attention and his stomach roils, protesting the meager lunch he managed to force down only half an hour ago.
Among it all, the undeniable, fresh scent of a newly presenting Omega cuts through.
Father will be furious with him.
Damian chokes back a dry sob, desperate and afraid. His lower abdomen throbs with a heavy ache.
He’s supposed to go to the front desk and call Alfred. Father had sat him down on some ordinary afternoon to instruct him on the proper procedure should his presentation begin at school.
But that was before. He can’t go now.
He’s… he’s not going to be an Alpha.
Father will be so upset.
Damian has never heard him say it, but it’s no secret that Father favors Alpha children. After all, the rest of the Wayne brood are Alpha’s. Richard, Jason, Tim, and Cass. There could be a lot of huffy attitudes in the house at times, but it had become incredibly clear to Damian in the six months he’d been living with his Father that he would be expected to present as an Alpha, just like the rest.
But he hasn’t. And that’s… a problem.
A shiver runs the length of his spine; he doesn’t want to imagine what Father will do with him when he finds out.
He will probably be so disgusted with Damian that he will send him away—out of sight, out of mind—just like his mother, who has not visited him once in the six months he’s lived in Gotham.
Father will probably send him to some boarding school across the country.
The door to the bathroom swings open and he stiffens. Two voices enter and one loudly proclaims how stinky it is in the bathroom.
Damian hopes they will leave.
“God, you’re right,” says the other, nasal, like they’re pinching your nose. “Come on, there’s another bathroom just down the hall. You know, my mother says that for how much they pay for my tuition here, they really should have—”
The voices die away as Damian’s peers leave, and he releases a tightly coiled breath.
He can’t stay here forever, though, he reasons with himself, but he makes no move to leave.
Instead, he pulls out his phone and starts Googling boarding institutions to pass the time.
However, inevitably, the last bell for the day goes, and Damian knows he really can’t stay any longer.
Alfred will be waiting outside with the Bently.
With a shuddered exhale, he wipes off the tears that have made tracks down his cheeks, stows his phone, and unlocks the stall.
Damian washes his hands at the sink, then splashes water on his face and over his scent glands. It doesn’t do much, but it should stop Alfred from smelling Omega instead of Pup immediately. He doesn’t know if it will last the whole ride home, though.
Steeling himself with a morose huff, he collects his bag and swings it onto his back.
The hall is deserted when he steps out into it, having spent longer in the bathroom than assumed.
He makes his way down the hall toward the exit. He’s almost all the way there, but then he spies a familiar man in the school lobby and his stomach does a weird 360.
He nearly considers running back down the hall, but Richard sees him first and breaks out into a wave, an enormous grin splitting his face.
Richard strolls over with an air of casual happiness, his smile never wavering, long legs carrying him to where Damian is doing his best to rapidly sink into the floor.
The Alpha, his oldest brother, seems to realize there’s something wrong before he even reaches him.
“Hey buddy,” he starts, the corners of his lips beginning to tilt, finally. “What’s wrong?”
Damian can’t even find it in himself to protest when Richard reaches for his hand, the larger palm dwarfing his own.
The Alpha leads them outside, still watching and patiently waiting for Damian to speak, but also steering them both toward the bike parked right out front.
Richard hands him a helmet.
Damian presses his lips firmly closed.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Richard continues, fishing. “Did something happen today?”
Damian shakes his head—too quickly. They both know it’s a lie anyway.
“Do you want to talk about it?” his brother asks, gently.
This time, when Damian shakes his head, he really means it.
“Okay,” agrees Richard, dubiously. There’s an undercurrent of worry in his voice. “Well, I’m here if you need an ear. You know that.”
Damian exhales. “Okay,” he whispers back, and climbs on the bike after Richard.
The Alpha has him sit at the front, Richard’s arms barricading him on either side, and Damian does his best to lean away, terrified to get any of his newly presenting scent on his brother.
Damian doesn’t know how he’s going to hide it over the next few days. From all the literature he’s read on the topic his scent will only get stronger and he’ll be rendered entirely useless for three to five days a month.
The two of them ride in silence; the only good thing about the bike is that the wind races past so fast, there’s no room for conversation.
Richard drives infuriatingly slow—the speed limit. Damian just wants to crawl into his bed and avoid the den for as long as humanly possible.
He wants to stay. He wants to be loved, still.
But Father will not love him when he finds out, Damian is sure. He will be disgusted and he will make arrangements to move Damian elsewhere and his siblings will stop talking to him and everyone in Gotham will forget he ever existed at all and he will be alone for the rest of his life and—
Richard begins to slow the bike and the imposing wrought-iron gates swing open automatically as they approach.
They pull up the drive and directly into the garage, where the normal, non-Batman related vehicles are kept.
Damian dismounts and has his helmet off before Richard has even shut off the ignition.
He ignores the shout that comes from behind him and bolts for the door to the kitchen, intending to make down the hall and into his bedroom before he can run into any other family members.
Unfortunately, he practically barrels right into a man twice his size, nearly careening backward onto the floor as he rebounds.
Two palms come up to his arms before he can topple backward, though, and Damian looks up to find deep blue eyes and a pair of brows knitting together.
The blood drains from his face so quickly he feels woozy.
“Woah, slow down, sport. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Father somehow seems taller and more imposing than ever.
Richard doesn’t take very long to catch up with them. Caged in, one Alpha in front and one at the rear, Damian feels utterly trapped.
His scent spikes, filling the room with that same sour lemon and bleach smell from school, and he wrenches himself out of his Father’s grasp to take a step backward.
His bottom lip trembles.
He smells it too, the answering scent of protectworryloveconern that both Alpha’s are quick to exude—and he knows it’s all a lie. They will look at him with disgust when they finally smell—
Father stiffens sharply.
And Damian knows he knows.
Father’s eyes go wide and his pupils dilate.
Damian can’t see what Richard is doing, but he smells it the second his scent shifts toward understanding.
He has to bite back a whimper as he shrinks in on himself, battling with the desire to tilt his neck and appease the two angry Alpha’s in the room.
“... Damian,” says his Father then, after several long minutes, and steps forward into his space. “You’re presenting.”
This time, he really can’t hold it back.
The pitiful mewl that crawls its way past his lips sounds so scared and defeated that even he can’t help but think himself pathetic.
“You’re an Omega,” Richard breathes behind him, sounding astonished.
Father lunges for him.
Damian flinches wildly, never having even considered that his Father would hurt him. Send him away, certainly, but punish him physically? After all those reassurances that Damian was safe here? That no one would ever hurt him again?
He had seen the man, as Batman, help hundreds of Omegas on the street. He had saved them from muggings and fear-gas, car-jackings and kidnappings.
But, Damian supposes, it’s different when your own son is the one presenting as an Omega.
Father’s arms reach for him, curling around him. Damian squeezes closed his eyes and sobs, just once, expecting pain.
It never does come.
Instead, Father brings up one palm to cup the back of Damian’s head. Father’s fingers slide through his hair, carving paths along his scalp, and the man dips to press a lingering kiss to his crown.
“It’s alright, pup,” he rumbles, and there’s that Alpha tone, commanding attention from everyone in the room. It makes the hairs on Damian’s arms prickle.
Not a pup, he wants to protest. Not anymore.
“You’re alright,” Father continues, raking his fingers repeatedly through Damian’s short strands. “I know you’re scared. Presenting can be scary. But you’re home, now, you’re safe.”
Damian disagrees. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite so unsafe since the first time he stepped into the manor.
A soothing purr stirs to life in Father’s chest, the vibrations rumbling down to Damian’s very bones.
And Damian… falters.
Where is the anger? The disgust? Why is Father playing these ridiculous mind games with him?
“I… I looked up boarding schools,” he blurts out, brain fried with all the scents and pheromones hitting him like a runaway truck. “I have opinions on some, but I will go without complaint wherever you choose to send me, Father.”
Father pulls away at that, and Damian deeply mourns the touch. He nearly chases after it, but stops himself just in time. He’ll be a pathetic Omega soon enough, no need to hurry it along.
“Boarding schools?”
Father’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Damian nods and drops his eyes to the Alpha’s chest.
“You will want me gone as soon as I have finished presenting, I expect,” he says meekly.
Father frowns and Richard makes a strange, strangled noise behind him.
“Dames, what do you — ”
Father holds up a hand and Richard falls instantly silent. Then, he redirects his full attention to Damian.
“Why would I send you away?” he asks, seriously.
“Because I am not an Alpha,” he answers without hesitation. The slightest hint of bitterness creeps into his tone.
Richard makes the strangled noise again, but this time it’s worse.
Father’s expression doesn’t change and never wavers.
“I will not bring shame to your family, Father,” he tacks on, a little more subdued. He doesn’t know why he says it, it’s not like it will do him any good now.
And, at that, Father’s face… crumples.
“Damian,” he sighs, drawing Damian toward his torso again. This time, his cheek rubs across the top of his head, scenting him. “Son, you could never bring me shame.”
Damian starts to shake his head, but stills when Father hushes him.
The Alpha’s fingers dip toward the nape of Damian’s neck, which has grown more sensitive by the hour since he first started his presentation, and gives the most gentle squeeze.
It’s like a shot of melatonin to his system. Exhaustion makes him wobble on his feet.
“And I’m not going to send you away,” Father continues. He sounds a little distraught at the idea, actually.
Damian melts in the embrace. He can’t help it.
“But I’m not an Alpha,” he protests weakly.
Father scoops him up, hooking an arm under his thighs and lifting him like he weighs nothing at all, even though Damian is far too old to be carried like this.
The Alpha presses another kiss to the side of his head and he bonelessly rests his cheek against Father’s collar, breathing in the warm and cinnamon scents the man is deliberately putting out.
“Damian,” he sighs, but there’s nothing but fondness in it. “I would love you no matter what designation you presented as.”
Oh.
“Really?” he whispers after a moment, as Father turns to walk from the kitchen.
Damian doesn’t know where they’re going, but Richard follows closely behind.
“Really,” Father replies. There’s no trace of a lie in his scent.
The soothing circles Father is rubbing on his back are only making him sleepier.
They end up in the den.
Father carefully lowers him into the nest and Richard scoots in after.
Damian melts against his father when the man gathers him up. Richard ends up splayed against his back like a huggy octopus.
Damian ends up utterly smothered in their much stronger Alpha scents. They wash over him like crashing waves. It makes him dizzy.
At some point he must begin to doze, because when he wakes it’s only briefly to a fourth party entering the nest. Todd, his nose recognizes, the scent of gunpowder and gasoline along with a level of surprise and a flood of fondness mingling with the other scents in the room.
Damian doesn’t think it’s very long after that that Cass joins the nest, and then Tim.
Father scents him, repeatedly, each time he wakes. Sleepily he thinks he’ll be a walking signpost for the Wayne family for at least a week. Not even a hot shower would wash all the scent off him.
“You’re safe, Omega,” Father says at some point, using Damian’s new designation for the first time.
With the layer of fear stripped away, he can’t help but preen a little under the moniker. Maybe he kind of even likes it.
A purr to answer the one Father has managed to keep up this entire time stutters to life in his chest. The Alpha’s arms squeeze him once, just for a minute, and his heart lifts hopefully.
“You really want me to stay?” Damian whispers, loud enough for his Father’s ears only.
The man chuffs once.
“Forever and always.”