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It itches.
You would think that after all this time he would no longer notice the sent blockers over his glands, but you’d be wrong. Perhaps if he didn’t wear them nearly 24/7, they wouldn’t aggravate him as much as they did but he can’t risk it.
The bats are a bunch of nosy bastards and with the way they’ve started dropping by his safe houses whenever they feel like it, he can’t take the chance of them catching him unprotected or scenting him on the furniture.
He contemplates it sometimes. Telling them. Letting them know what he is.
But this is the West, more importantly this is Gotham and he knows exactly how the people here treat omegas. Especially the upper class.
There’s a reason Jason hid his designation from B all those years ago before he died and with everything that’s happened, all the bad blood and everything in between he knows what will happen if Bruce finds out.
And he will find out if he tells any of the others.
Not even Damian knows. And by the gods does it hurt. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s killing a part of him each time his Kit looks at him with dismissive eyes and barely concealed disdain.
But it’s better for both of them this way. It has to be.
Damian is still having difficulties integrating with the pack and having a strong bond to the family’s resident cautionary tale would only make things worse.
That’s if Damian even wanted his bond with Jason to remain, he couldn’t help thinking darkly. He’d felt it when the kit sided with his father and turned his back on the Al Ghul pack just as much as Talia had and the fractures in their bond were only growing worse with each passing day.
He loved Damian and the rest of the kits B had taken in, to the point that he sometimes forgot he had no actual claim to them, even his Kit.
And that was the problem.
Until B or even Goldie decided to acknowledge him as pack or even as an ally, their constant presence near him was only going to keep affecting him poorly.
None of his safe houses felt safe enough to nest in, not when they reeked of a rival pack.
If things didn’t change soon, he might have to take Talia up on her offer to return to Nanda Parbat permanently.
He couldn’t continue like this and honestly he wasn’t sure why he was even bothering.
Yes, in the early days of his war on the worst of the worst that lurked in Crime Alley it had needed his constant attention, but now it was finally at a point where people felt safe and the gangs he’d allowed to take over in the wake of the power vacuum he’d created were the kind that would have followed the rules he enforced even without him there to see to it.
The people were as safe as they could be, the working girls were looked after and the infrastructure he’d set up was doing its job to reduce poverty and homelessness.
The only thing that was holding him back from fleeing were the Bats.
Talia claimed that his relationship with the Bat Pack was toxic and whilst he could see why she felt like this he was unable to abandon the fragile bonds he’d begun to form with them when there was still a chance.
This was something that he knew she hated but understood.
Her love for Bruce had ultimately destroyed a part of her and he knew she only wanted to save him from that pain.
But he couldn’t leave, not until…
God, he needed to stop thinking about this. The invasive thoughts about his relationship or more accurately, lack of relationship with the Bat and his brood has been creeping up on him whenever he had a moment of quiet lately and he didn’t like it.
A fight.
That was what he needed.
Something to get his adrenaline pumping and chase away these intrusive thoughts.
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When he returns to the safe house he chose for tonight, the stench of blood is heavy on his skin like expensive perfume. It clogs his nose and dampens his sense of smell. That is the only reason he tells himself, that he doesn’t recognise the fresh scent within his flat as pack before he instinctively lashes out at the unknown intruder.
It isn’t because the constant pervading scent of Bruce or Dick left over from their constant spying has him frazzled. It isn’t.
Talia blocks the blow easily, but there is worry in her eyes at his response to her presence and he hates it.
She’s done so much for him, been so much for him and he doesn’t want to trouble her when he’s fine. And he is fine.
He isn’t.
For a moment he fears that she’s going to force a conversation on what just happened but then the cool assessing look within her eyes is replaced by something warmer and he knows he’s been granted a stay of execution.
The conversation will happen eventually but for now he can focus on kinder things.
Like the safety he feels for the first time in months now that he’s surrounded by one of his alphas scent, or the warmth he feels as he’s embraced for what feels like the first time in months.
They quickly retire to the living room to partake of tea and idle gossip where one of Talia’s people has apparently set everything up.
It’s nice.
They chat for what is probably hours about anything and everything, from business to literature and weapons to art. Talia and he have always had a similar taste, be it in novels or more practical based items. It’s good to get her opinion on these things and Jason makes a note to look up several of her suggestions.
But as much as he may wish otherwise, this cannot last. They’ve finished catching up and he knows T won’t let him put off more serious conversation much longer.
And he’s right.
Sipping the last of her Tea, the alpha signals to the shadows and one of her people clears the set away as she looks at him with searching eyes.
They sit in silence, waiting for the
“Talk to me Little Fox, what is wrong?”
“I-”
“And do not lie, it is unbecoming”
“Sorry T.”
“Apologise by telling me what ails you.”
And just like that the dam breaks and he’s slumping forward like a marionette whose strings have been cut.
“I’m just tired T. I haven’t been able to comfortably nest in the last few months without risk of the bats learning more than I want them to and its effecting my sleep. I’ll get over it.”
“That is not a minor problem Habibi! you know what happens when a person suppresses their instincts, when an Omega suppresses them. Do not tell me you do not see the dangers in what you are doing. Not just to those around you but to yourself.”
He shudders slightly at that, images of both himself as a child and others flashing through his mind as he remembers exactly what she’s speaking of.
Reading him like a book, the woman’s anger softens slightly, and she reaches forward to cup his face.
“You know I do not mean to be cruel Jason, but I worry for you and what will happen. Especially now, when you are far from the nest and without allies nearby. Please little Fox, I know I promised not to ask again but please think about returning home. If not permanently, then at least visit more often. If not for yourself then my own piece of mind”
And it’s telling at how tired he really is that he simply nods and moves to curl up beside her.
Sleep comes quickly with his packmate’s presence and for the first time since his return to Gotham his rest is deep and free of nightmares.
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He never should have agreed to come to the cave.
He wouldn’t have, but he’d been absolutely wrecked after a fight with some out of towners that Black Mask had hired to take him down and so hadn’t been prepared when Dick barged into the rather nice loft he owned on the east side and demanded that he come back to the cave to see B.
The arrogant alpha bastard had been giving off a ton of pheromones and it had taken everything he had in his exhausted state not to just drop to his knees and submit.
Fuck that.
Saying no hadn’t been an option.
Delaying it on the other hand…
So here he was in the heart of the Big Bad Bat’s territory a day after his presence had been demanded -sorry requested and each step forward had his skin crawling and his instincts begging for him to flee.
He was a lone omega in the heart of a dangerous Alpha’s territory and he hated it.
His helmet would have made things easier with its filter, but Batman had made it clear the first time he was brought back to the cave that he needed to disarm himself of his guns and hand over his iconic headpiece.
The bastard had tried to make him disarm completely but Jason had just laughed in his face.
He hated every second he was trapped in this god forsaken cave and it took all his training to make his fear come off as Alpha aggression.
It was at times like this that the distorted view westerners had of designations and the stereotypes they believed in so easily played to his advantage.
Despite never having scented him, his size and baring had almost all of the bats believing him an Alpha.
Even Damian believed him an Alpha, the kit had apparently embraced western stupidity despite how much he complained about the country’s education system.
Unfortunately, not even he could fool Cass, but she never did anything but give him a knowing look.
They weren’t close but she’d seen more of him in one glance that Bruce had the entire time he’d lived here, and didn’t that say something about their father?
Whatever the case, Cassandra had seen something that had led to her keeping her silence and Jason would always be grateful for that.
Unfortunately, Damian chose that moment to break the silence created by his entrance and stated with his usual arrogance and biting tone; “You know it’s Alphas like you that give your designation a bad name Todd.”
Barely suppressing a flinch, he gives his k- Damian a lazy smile that he knew would aggravate the brat and responds with a voice that dripped in condescension.
“Oh Really? And what’s that supposed to mean Brat?”
The kit snarls and looks like he’s about to throw himself at him and Jason feels it like a visceral blow as their bond weakens further. For a second it looks like Damian might have felt it, that he might have realised what had just happened, but the Golden Boy finally decides to intervene and Damian is suitably distracted by the overbearing Alpha.
Shifting to ignore them and focus again on the bat computer, Jason viciously suppresses the cruel mix of grief and longing that rose up whenever he saw his kit in the arms of another.
Damian isn’t his any more.
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Jason doesn’t know how they got to this point.
One moment Bruce had been hissing vitriol about anything and everything from his general attitude and temper to his morals and methods. Nothing was spared as the Alpha ripped into him about every little problem, all the while Jason tried desperately not to let the cruel remarks hurt him or worse trigger something.
The next thing he knew muscle memory was kicking in and he was barely dodging the armoured fist aimed at his head.
“Pay attention when I’m talking to you!” snarls the enraged Alpha as he lunges for him a second time.
Distantly Jason can’t help but think that of course it’s the old man’s ego and superiority complex that’s pushed him to violence. B always hated it, even when he was Robin, when he didn’t pay enough attention to what he was saying.
Fear eats at him, but he swallows it down and focuses on the fight at hand. It would be one thing if he could go all out, but he knows if he does more than simply defend himself and mitigate his own injuries the others will turn on him.
It won’t matter that Bruce instigated the fight. Jason isn’t pack and if he injures B they’ll all loose it.
As it stands currently, they’re all just watching from the side lines. No one willing to get between the Bat and his prey for fear that he’ll target them instead. Especially when it’s a “provocative and presumptuous runt that needs to learn his place.”
Jason would have been proud at the cutting remark Damian had served him if it hadn’t hurt so much to hear it coming from someone he’d protected and cared for.
Of course, this is the real reason Jay was called here tonight, he can’t help but think bitterly. Someone or something has obviously pissed the old man off and he needed a way to cool off and reassert his authority and control in some way.
Jason isn’t pack and it’s easy for Bruce to classify him as a threat thereby nullifying any guilt he may later feel later at his actions. He’s just a tool that needs to be taught its place.
He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that he waited a day before coming. On the one hand he was no way in the right state of mind to handle a fight like this yesterday. He still isn’t. On the other hand, he has no doubt that making B wait to vent his frustrations has only made this that much worse for him.
Truthfully it doesn’t matter. Jason can’t change his past choices; all he can do is endure.
The next few moments are filled with grunts and the dull thud of Kevlar clad limbs hitting against one another.
It’s a delicate balance making sure that Bruce doesn’t cause too much damage whilst still allowing the illusion that the man is the superior fighter, but he manages.
Barely.
Of course it’s right when he thinks he’s got it worked out that things go to hell in a hand basket.
Bruce lunges once more and he dodges but someone up above must hate him as the edge of B’s glove catches on one of his scent Blockers, tearing it and rendering the device useless.
The whole room freezes.
They’re all trained to hide their emotions but right now none of them seems to be able to remember this in the face of the revelation that is his presentation. A dozen conflicting emotions cloud each of their faces, but the most prominent one is that of horror.
He knows why of course. They’d just sat by and watched as Bruce had beaten him for no real reason and with his designation now clear the flimsy excuse that it was merely two alphas butting heads as they always will no longer holds up.
What was fine moments before is now an atrocity. Funny how a simple alteration in a person’s perception can change things.
He would mock them, but right now it’s taking everything within him to hide the terror that is steadily mounting inside him and stop it from clouding his judgement and taking control.
“Jaylad…”
Evidently, he’s failed in hiding his distress if Bruce is using that name for him. The man hasn’t refered to him as such since before the diplomat incident.
They’re at a stalemate, neither side certain on what to do as the room becomes thick with tension. The bats too shocked and Jason too frightened about what this will mean for anyone to move.
But the impasse can’t last forever and unsurprisingly it’s Dick who makes the first move and comes forward in an attempt to settle everyone down.
It’s a mistake.
The moment Dick is no longer blocking the exit Jason bolts towards his bike, expertly avoiding Bruce as he lunges in a poorly thought out plan to restrain him.
His helmet and guns are a lost cause at this point, which pisses him off considering how much time he put into upgrading them but at the end of the day they aren’t worth his freedom.
And that’s exactly what’s at stake here. His freedom
Jay may be gone within a matter of seconds but this doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.
Ignoring how skilled they are at tracking, they have Oracle on their side.
He can’t do this alone, he needs help. He needs… Talia!
She’s still in Gotham.
Fishing out his burner, Jason narrowly avoids crashing as he punches in her number and sends her an S.O.S.
Hopefully that’s enough.
The next few moments are a fast paced nightmare as he almost brains himself on several occasions whilst driving in an attempt to get away. His bike gets ditched at one point but it’s worth it as he finally manages to lose all of his tails.
He continues on foot, eventually risking the rooftops as there are less cameras up there and thus less chances of Oracle catching him. She’s the real danger at this point.
He’s just starting to think he might be safe when a shift in wind currents alerts him to the others presence.
Evidently Nightwing hadn’t had the chance to put on scent blockers before leaving the cave.
He tries to run but the alpha lunges, tripping him with a deft movement and turning their fight into more of a one-sided grappling match before it can even begin.
God, this embarrassing. He needs to get his shit together before this gets any worse.
“Hood! Jason, just stop trying to run. We aren’t- we’re not going to hurt you, but we need to talk about this!”
“Like hell we do” he snarled as he lashed out at the alpha and tried to free himself from the older man’s grip.
But Dick had the advantage position wise and despite everything Jason didn’t truly want to hurt him. He would if it came down to it, but they weren’t at that point yet.
“Jason please, I don’t know why you didn’t tell us but-”
But whatever he was planning to say didn’t matter as he was forcefully cut off by a fast-moving object -no person- ramming into him.
Rolling with the force of the blow, Dick was forced to release him, and Jason scrambled back and towards the scent of pack.
“Talia” Dick- no. Nightwing snarls, his voice guttural as his control slips and his hatred towards the woman along with his rage at her intervention taking over.
“Richard. I would like to say that it’s a pleasure to see you, but I find that lying is rather unbecoming. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Talia’s cutting remark as she shifts to place herself further between the two of them manages to reassure him to an extent, but it’s not enough.
It’s just all too much. This whole night has been too much. His argument with Bruce, their fight, the reveal of his secondary gender… it’s too much.
He knows logically that Dick is unlikely to hurt him but the Alpha’s threats to throw him in Arkham are still fresh in Jason’s mind and he doesn’t smell safe or trustworthy.
He’s not pack.
He smells like a threat and it’s all just too much.
The whine that works its way past his lips is the kind that only young kits or truly frightened omega’s are capable of making. It erases any doubt of his true gender from Dick’s mind and has a visceral effect on both the Alphas present.
For Talia, it sparks a protective instinct and causes the woman to pull her packmate closer to herself, tucking him behind her as the deadly alpha warrior shifts once more so that he is completely out of site from the threat at hand.
For Dick, the sound is like a bucket of water. He stumbles back in shock at the idea that he could invoke such a response in his little brother but is obviously uncertain in how to respond.
“Little Wing…”
Dick hesitates, his tone uncertain and slightly hurt, but before Jason instincts can attempt to guilt his foggy mind into comforting the Alpha, his Packmate speaks.
“You do not have the right to address him with such familiarity Richard.”
“You don’t get to speak for him Talia”
“I have more right than you! Jason is a member of my pack, whereas he doesn’t even wear your scent!”
Dick looks like he’s ready to lash out again, but Jason cuts in before this can spiral any further,
“Just stop. Both of you” he added when he saw the smugness setting in on Talia’s face.
“What do you want to do little fox.”
“I just want to go Home T. just take me home, please.”
“Of course.”
“You can’t take him Talia.”
“He’s made is choice Richard.”
Evidently deciding to ignore her, Dick turns to Jason with imploring eyes and says, “Littlewing please, Gotham is your home. This is where you belong.”
And it hurts. It hurts that the first time Dick or anyone within the Bats suggested that he belonged, that he was wanted or needed is just a manipulation to get him to stay. This isn’t about him. Not really. It’s about the fact he’s an Omega and with how rare they are, they don’t want to lose one to a rival pack.
A Trophy to be fought over.
That is how they see him.
What hurts worse though is that he knows now that Dick is wrong. For months now he’s been trying to deny it but with everything that’s happened tonight he must face the truth. Gotham isn’t his anymore and he no longer belongs within her walls.
With the alley no longer desperate for his protection he’s free.
So why does it feel like a death sentence?
Distantly he notices that Dick tries to stop them, but the Shadows who had been waiting in the darkness prevent him.
His packmate bundles him up and they’re gone, heading back to the safety of the nest and their pack alpha.
He has no doubt that the Bat will come, the man has never learned to let go of what he considers his. But the league will be waiting, and they won’t allow their leaders omega to be lured away a second time by false promises.