Chapter Text
If Dick was honest with himself, this feeling of falling through a portal was entirely too familiar to be safe. Sure, he didn’t usually make a habit of getting kicked in the chest into a mysteriously glowing blue portal of doom, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen enough that there was an entire list of protocols that B had forced him to sit down and memorize after the third time it happened in two years. He had to admit, though, it could be worse. Usually, there was more pain involved with it. The feeling of being ripped apart on the molecular level before being rebuilt and getting spit into a new universe. This was nice. It felt a little bit like getting kicked into a bathtub and then falling. However, usually you weren’t falling for the better part of an hour, but Dick supposed that was the price to pay for a relatively pleasant trip in a portal.
It was so pleasant, in fact, that Dick nearly dozed off before he realized that gravity had suddenly kicked into effectiveness again, properly and with a vengeance, and Dick forced himself back to alertness. He didn’t have time to process much other than the fact that he was falling from an uncomfortably high distance, almost level with some of the highest gargoyles on Wayne Enterprise Tower. He didn’t have time to think, which was good, considering he fired off the grappling hook without needing to think. It still nearly wrenched his shoulder out of its socket, and Dick grimaced as he tumbled unceremoniously onto the Media Terrace of the Tower. At least he was alive, though, and seemed to be in one piece.
Right. Now that he knew he was alive, it was time to take a proper inventory of whatever injuries he had at this point after the unceremonious tumble. His shoulder ached, sharp and throbbing in the way that suggested he might have torn something, though he wasn’t sure. The ribs down to his hip on the opposite side ached as well, and he was quite thankful for the latest rendition of the Kevlar weave that Bruce had insisted upon making the uniform from, considering Dick was sure it would have been some nasty road rash from the hard landing without it. Nothing felt broken, though, and his uniform and domino were still firmly in place. The gorget was still a comforting presence against his throat, and Dick took a deep breath as he forced the adrenaline to leave his system. There didn’t seem to be any major injuries that rest and some pain killers wouldn’t heal. He was fine. No need to get his scent flooding panic and fear from what was a relatively usual happenstance in the life of a vigilante. He didn’t know what exactly had happened, and if he had been teleported, he didn’t need every concerned Alpha in the area to be converging on him if his scent patches were overwhelmed.
“Nightwing?”
Dick groaned quietly at Tim’s voice, shifting onto his side so he could push himself up to a seated position instead of continuing to resemble a sad rag doll on the ground. “That’s my name,” he said, slow and cautious as he opened his eyes and looked around the space. It looked like home, at least. More flowers than he remembered, but he hadn’t been back here in months, not since Damian had presented and they had a small press conference to announce it. It didn’t necessarily mean that he was in some other universe, but the fact that it was Tim, who was supposed to be in San Francisco and enjoying a week with his secondary pack rather than working overtime yet again at Wayne Enterprises happened to imply more of a time travel or different universe situation.
“Are you…okay?”
Dick continued to look at Tim, trying to figure out if there were any obvious differences between this Tim and the Tim he was usually used to. It was odd, but he couldn't tell any obvious differences, and he turned his attention back to himself to try and figure out just how injured he ended up in the botched landing. “Messed up the shoulder, and I’ll have some bruises, but nothing too terrible.” He didn’t want to immediately launch into confirmation codes if he didn’t have to. Tim might not be in the business, after all, and Dick didn’t want to drag him in if he didn’t—
“Protocol Alpha Seven Uniform November?”
Well, seemed like Tim was still in the family business, after all. “Probably, I think, though I’m not exactly sure which variation of A7UN this is, since last I saw you, you were headed to San Francisco. Might be a Tango One Tango Romeo Four situation, though. Help me up?”
“If it’s T1TR4, then I probably shouldn’t touch you.”
Dick sighed softly, thinking over what exactly this could be. It’s close enough that they both recognize the protocols, though whether they were talking past each other or not was more difficult to tell. It was unlikely they were talking past each other, though, considering Tim knew that he shouldn’t touch him if it was a time travel situation. He also wasn’t entirely sure when he was, so that could be a problem, but it would be best to rule out this time travel possibility as quickly as possible. Dick had no desire to end up in a quiet cell somewhere while everyone figured out how to send him home in order to prevent the time stream from unraveling.
“Date and time?” Dick asked after a moment. Starting there was a good bet. Honestly, he was surprised that Tim hadn’t already provided it to him.
Tim quickly rattled off the date before glancing down at his watch. Dick frowned for a moment, wondering why Tim would put up with a wrist watch. It always bothered his scent glands, from what he remembered Tim say ages ago. One of the weirder parts that could pop up with chronic malodora, though more common when the malodora occurred during childhood like Tim’s had. There was one point of difference, at least, so Dick was starting to think it was just an alternate universe, rather than time travel. “It’s two sixteen in the afternoon, and from the expression on your face, we’re leaning more towards different universes than time travel.”
“Yep, so you can help me up,” Dick said, reaching his hands up and making a grabbing motion towards Tim. He didn’t entirely trust his hip and knee not to give out on him, and his shoulder was rough enough that he didn’t want to risk putting too much pressure on that as well at this point.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tim sighed, walking over and helping Dick up, only letting go of him for a moment before they both realized that Dick’s leg probably wouldn’t support him for a little while longer yet. He quickly caught Dick before he could do more than stumble. “What happened? It’s been quiet over here, so I don’t think you were pulled into this universe because of something.”
“Fell through a portal that spit me out above the Tower. Barely had a chance to grapple onto one of the gargoyles before I would have been going too fast to catch anything else. Pretty sure it was entirely because of my universe, not yours.”
Tim frowned, nodding as he looked at Dick before he helped him into a chair. “I’ll call Bruce, see if we can get you set up somewhere while we figure out whether you’re going to need help back or if it’s a sitting-and-waiting situation.”
“I have a bad feeling it’s a need-help-back since we were in the middle of a fight when it happened, and it wasn’t random, but we’ll see,” Dick replied, but he sighed quietly, easing better into the chair as he closed his eyes for a moment. Tim smelled odd, though Dick supposed it made sense, what with this being a different universe and everything. A different dynamic wasn’t terribly unheard of, really. Dick could entirely believe that Tim’s gender weirdness had exhibited as a desire to be transoriented, rather than transgender like they were in his own world. All of that was weird, so it wasn’t too odd that Tim had the curious blankness of a Beta’s scent. It was remarkably blank, though, and he frowned as he opened his eyes again. “You’re not abusing blockers again, are you?” He knew that there was a chance that Tim never did around here, but he remembered the months of aching emptiness in Tim’s blocked scent back in his own world after Bruce had returned from the past. He didn’t have any right to be part of Tim’s pack at that point, and thus no right to be scented by him, but he still remembered just how awful it felt to smell the unnatural blankness in Tim’s scent at all times back then. It was just the same now, except worse, somehow.
Tim stared blankly at him.
“Do I have to stage an intervention?” Dick asked, growing more concerned as he looked at Tim, trying to ignore the slightly bitter edge his own scent was picking up as he grew more worried about Tim. Why would Tim abuse scent blockers here? Were his parents even worse than he remembered them being? Did he have to use blockers because his malodora had grown so acute that he was allergic to his own scent?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Different world, you know?”
Dick stared at him, but after a moment he nodded. The concern dropped out of his system so fast that he almost felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. It was good, though. Tim wasn’t abusing scent blockers. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re not abusing scent blockers at all. Sorry for the assumption.”
“No, I don’t know what scent blockers are at all. We don’t have them here. Are you talking about perfume, or something? I don’t know why Bruce lets you wear it, but that could be a difference, I suppose.”
“You don’t know scent blockers?” That was unbelievable, really. How could a world develop without scent blockers? Practically every culture had some form of them, so they had to have them here. How would people be able to function if they didn’t have a way to hide their scent at times?
Tim sighed, rolling his eyes. “No, Dick. I don’t know what those are.”
“How do you hide your orientation? I know we don’t do that very often, but it comes in handy sometimes.”
Tim shifted, looking particularly uncomfortable. “Something tells me you aren’t talking about sexual orientation.”
Dick felt the dread fill his stomach. A cold weight sinking in him, keeping him from even thinking about getting up and running. He could smell the sour edge that joined the bitter scent of hurt already in his scent, and he couldn’t find it in himself to try and regain some sort of calm to settle it back to the citrusy-bright scent it usually was. He would nearly question what Tim meant, why he seemed so clueless, but Tim didn’t seem to react to the changing and distressed scent. Even if he was a beta, he should be able to smell it and try to help him feel better. Dick took a shuddering breath, and he shook his head. “Might as well wait to explain until we alert Bruce,” Dick finally managed to say, holding a hand out to keep Tim from getting too close to him as his brother walked over to make sure there weren’t any worse injuries that had gone ignored until now. “I’ll…we need to catalog the differences between our worlds. Try to figure out how exactly we want to handle this disaster.”
It hadn’t been a disaster until now.
It hadn’t been a disaster until Dick realized that no one else would have the same inclination to scent others like he had come across in the few other alternative universes he had tumbled into before. At least Dick had spent time scenting everyone the night before, and they always took a little bit of time to smear scent on each other before they had to go out to fight. He should be fine for a while, but he also knew that he was on a ticking clock. If they didn’t have scents here, if they weren’t actually Homo trigeminus like he was…Dick had no idea if they’d be able to help him avoid malodora. He had to get back home by the end of the year, otherwise he could end up with permanent injuries from it. Six months, give or take.
He had his work set out for them.