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Looking up from his book and taking a sip from the glass full of lemonade, that is waiting for him on the little table beside him, it’s not the first time he catches himself thinking of his pack – family – as certifiable insane. It’s just a thought that hits him more and more often, the longer this whole thing continues. By now Jason had been sure that they would have cracked and stopped this charade. Instead, he gains more and more freedom for each day that goes by. It’s as infuriating as it is calming.
One side of him wants to rage and throw things at them in pure anger about all this stupidity they are showing, while the other side wants to stay right here, curled up on a deck chair near the pool and read in peace. And safety. Maybe even purring in content. So he does what he tried to do from the very beginning two months ago and stays on the middle ground. Jason allows himself the luxury of safety and does nothing about the rest.
By now even without any constant jailors near him. But who knows? Maybe his replacement is sitting down in the cave and watches the cameras. Maybe Bruce finally has gotten enough trackers on him to trust that he would find Jason anyway. How would he know?
Jason doesn’t talk to them. Not really. Not anymore.
It’s complicated.
He can’t even sell it so himself as revenge or whatever anymore. It’s more like.. There are parts of himself that he doesn’t understand. That he never had the time or inclination to learn about. And now, with his ass very firmly grounded and his wings clipped, he doesn’t have much choice but to acknowledge them. It’s fucking terrifying and it doesn’t let much of his charming personality left.
Talking to his pack is exhausting on a level he can’t even describe to Rodney. Just wishing someone in the manor a ‘Good morning’ is like putting his mind through a ringer. Because... does he really want Bruce to have a good morning? Or would he wish him a good fist to the face? The answer is probably both and to fight himself about it takes time and energy and even if he were inclined to put himself through that, by the time he has decided on a sentence, the person is usually long gone.
Yeah. Jason has a good idea how very not good a place his mind is right now.
Even if it is clearer then it has been in years. Probably before his dead. Rodney told him, that might play a big part in Jasons silence around his pack. Because with that clearance of green, green, rage, hate, green comes a rediscovered ability of feeling regret. Guilt. And a few more of these feelings that he doesn’t want to get too deep into right now.
He can probably be happy that Bruce decided a therapist is needed and produced Rodney after they got into the mother of all fights down in the cave.
Because that happened in the first week or so? Jason doesn’t really have that much idea how time moved in the beginning. He remembers getting a full dose of Ivy’s bullshit right into the face of his broken helmet. That he laughed at first, because she likes to target Alphas and while he certainly looks like one in his full getup, he isn’t. No Alpha ruts for an Omega like him.
Jason is pretty sure he knocked her down anyway.
But back in his safehouse the fever hit him hard. Right down to his knees, keening for something, sweating and nausea the deluxe version.
Quite honestly, Jason doesn’t have that much reconciliation how he got from there to a nest on Bruce’s bed in the mansion. Surrounded by pack that he usually denied and refused with vengeance. Even goddamn Timothy Drake had been there. Curled on his side, producing calming beta scent as if his life depended on it.
Jason had been so fucking confused whenever he reached even the tiniest amount of awareness. The whole room stank of pack and protection and was full of content rumblings and his own goddamn purrs.
To remember that, still feels as if he watched a scene in a movie and not like something he was the biggest part in.
Obviously, he tried sneaking out on the very first opportunity, which just as obviously failed spectacularly. Actually, he failed himself. Standing like an idiot in the door, looking over the perfectly ordained lawn and not being able to move a single muscle. And it didn’t stop there. Nono. He stood there, where he brought himself and started whining for his pack.
Jason still wants to hit himself for that little display. Repeatedly.
Well, long story short, scenting from his pack keeps him calm. Keeps the pit at bay and his Omega side in power. Or something like that. Rodney figured that out after they talked for what felt like hours in one of the containment cells. Which might have been the point when Jason realized that Bruce was dead serious about this therapy and his helping thing.
There was no way in hell he would have let Rodney in the cave otherwise. No matter that the older Omega was mated to some kind of supersoldier or whatever.
He was also the only one Jason deemed safe enough to talk to, after the fight. Where he attacked Bruce. And stopped holding back. That they both only came apart with deep bruising and some really savage looking bites was purely down to instincts. Neither of them thought about weapons in that moment.
Bruce won and Jason got thrown into said cell. Where he rampaged and called his so-called pack every name under the sun. Until Rodney arrived, ordered clothes with packscents brought down and entered with said clothes and other nesting material. Jason still thinks he was only a second away from attacking the other Omega, before the man gave clipped orders to help him with building a nest.
And lo and behold, Jason folded like a wet cardhouse and got his first lesson in nest building.
Because his life isn’t complicated enough, he has no idea how to be an Omega. Or what being an Omega even means in a pack like this. And listen, Jason isn’t an idiot. He knows that there must be drastic differences between a crime alley Omega and one for high society. Coming out of a heat with cuddles and hugs and heat packs and whatnot is not how it would play out in the alley. Simple as that.
However misguided and insane Jason thinks his pack is in general, he is very sure that they would break a few bones in anyone's body dumb enough to even only disrespect the Pack-Omega. Which Jason also is, by default. Urgh.
Somehow his years as crime lord high on suppressants haven’t prepared him at all. Or his time at the league. Whatever exactly happened there, Jason is pretty sure he wasn’t there as Damians maid. No matter that he might have a tiny soft spot for the little demon.
But these issues aside, he has to get scented once a day, to stay in his happy place. And it is his happy place, no matter that the others are starting to get downright worried about his so called comatose behavior.
Jason isn’t comatose. His light is on, there is someone at home. He can think very clearly and decide to tackle his issues. Or not.
Rodney, the bestest asshole of therapist they could ever find for him, calls him a dramatic idiot, but is still reachable 24 hours a day and answers even the most idiotic question with enough snark to not let Jason feel dumb.
He wonders what Bruce pays for that kind of service.
The problem starts when Bruce isn’t there for the scentings.
Yes. Against all bets, Jason finds it the easiest to go to the Packalpha for it. Jason has a good grip on the mans expectations. Whatever Jasons own thoughts on the matter, Bruce wants his son back and is prepared to fight for it. And if that fight means to scent Jason without making a big deal out of it, then the man will do it.
Simple as that.
The rest of his ‘siblings’ are a total different matter. Because Jasons problems start and end at the word siblings.
And anyway, how can he be the only one that has problems with it too? It’s not like one usually goes into a supermarket, points at a few people and decides that they would look so nice in the family pictures, they have to be siblings now!
Now, one dead, one resurrection and a few years older, Jason thinks that Dick had it right in the beginning. You can’t just have someone shoven into your face, call out ‘this is your new brother’ and happy end.
Honestly, Jason would be tempted to give Dick some kind of medal for reacting like a normal human being, if Dick weren’t also the only not insane person in the pack.
He begins to sense a theme here.
Because Dick was at some kind of long-term mission with some team or another and came home to.. well whatever this all is at the end of the day. And the Alpha hadn’t been amused at all.
Jason didn’t hear everything, sitting on the roof and sneaking in a smoke, but he heard enough enraged screaming. About Jason hurting Tim badly. About shooting at, well everyone of them really. About him kicking them from roofs. About a lot more of Jasons failings and he found himself nodding along while exhaling white smoke into the black night sky.
It was his luck that Cass had been his escorting Jailor that day, because Jason can appreciate the silence. And that she let him smoke without another lecture.
He sure hoped Tim was somewhere near the screaming match between Bruce and Dick, because that boy could use a bit of a wakeup call. His replacement is still flinching whenever he comes face to face with Jason without being prepared for it. Which would be good and Jason would applaud it, if that idiot wouldn’t sneak into the family den whenever Jason decides he needs more scents to stay on the right side of sane and sleep there instead of his own nest in his own room.
Every. Fucking. Time.
Jason wants to shake some seriously needed self-preservation into the Beta, every time he wakes up with the guy curled around him. Like Jason wasn’t an unstable timebomb that could explode any time. Like he wouldn’t be able to hurt his replacement again. As if two domesticated months would somehow make him less dangerous to the people in the pack.
Especially the younger people.
Really, Jason doesn’t want to trump his own horn but he is trained in ways they haven’t grasped. Most of them. Cass pings on his danger-meter like no one else, so he lets her out of these thoughts. And besides, as was pointed out to him in great and unneeded glee, she is older.
Whatever.
The point is, that the younger birds somehow got the impression that Jason is the most dangerous when he has his guns. And there might be some truth to it, if the Pit is driving his body. As much as he likes to pretend differently, the Pit doesn’t make the most sane decisions. Shooting with precision is the most he can really get out of it, without trying to be some kind of Hulk.
With clear thoughts?
Hell, he was trained by Batman, the league and a few masters that had been deemed worthy. Jason is his most dangerous the moment he can think about his actions. Instead of a red walking flag that gives his position away with loud shots, they could have faced something very differently.
Most times he meets his own gaze in a mirror, he is scared by the sheer possibilities in which way this little experiment Bruce is driving here could go wrong. What Jason would be able to do if he really wanted to. If he snapped in the wrong way.
Rodney tells him that thinking like that is prove that he doesn’t want it. And maybe that is the case. Most likely even. But there is more in his mind than the guy that would take a knife to his own throat before he hurts another member of this pack. It is not safe. His body is not safe to be around.
And thats the reason that Dick is the only sane person.
After losing the screaming match the second in packorder isn’t really around much, falling back to his usual behavior of getting the fuck out. Jason approves.
He approves a bit less of the instances the older Alpha is in the mansion. Probably bullied by Alfred. And honestly, Jason is trying. He retreats even more then usual, to give Dick time and space with the kids. Not Bruce, because Bruce is on the same shitlist and gets exactly nothing from his oldest son. Jason would have laughed in other circumstances. The irony.
But no matter how hard he tries, sometimes they meet. And no matter how hard Jason tries to remember, he can’t dig up a single instance from before with the same intense, cold indifference in the usually so lively blue eyes. The Alpha watches him like the bomb he is. Waiting and ready for the explosion. Muscles never relaxed. Prepared to take the strike and strike back double so hard.
Jason shouldn’t feel as intimidated about it as he is. He has a bit height and muscles on Dick. But somewhere in his brain the Alpha is a giant that can snuff him out with a single hit.
Jason should be happy about that. Thats how it should be.
Really.
One person that doesn’t talk to him like it is normal to try to kill or maim ones family from time to time. One person that doesn’t give a shit about his so called Pit-rage. One person that sees how Jason hurt the pack and that is prepared to deal with it in the right way.
And if Jason calls Rodney in the middle of the night and cries in deep confusion about the almost bodily hurt he feels about something he also deeply approves of, no one else needs to know.
The man drives to the mansion the next day and takes Jason out for a coffee, against every single resistance. From Jason and the pack. Away from these judging eyes and behavior from the one Alpha in the pack that doesn’t trust him at all. That hadn’t even come close enough to get his scent. That would never scent him.
For three hours, he is sitting in a park with his therapist and feels like he can breathe for the first time in forever.
“See”, Rodney finally says and takes another sip from his coffee, “you were so worried that you didn’t show any Omegan behavior and there you have it.”
Jason frowns. “You mean to tell me, my Omega side that is hurt by Dick?”
The man nods. “Isn’t it obvious? Jason Todd thinks that's how your whole pack should react to you. With distrust at the very least. Pit-Jason would probably already have started the next fight that had me come down to that distasteful cave with it’s cells again. Omega-Jason is probably in a never-ending circle of hurt and confusion about how such a high ranking Alpha in your pack is or isn’t handling you.”
Slumping deeper into the hard bench Jason sighs deeply. “Fantastic.”
“No one ever said that healing is easy. For neither side. Or even possible sometimes.”
“You telling me I will never be whole again?”
The older Omega gives him a look. “You will be something. There is no reason there can’t be happiness in your future. Sadly, there isn’t a shortcut to take and you have a lot on your plate at once. Maybe at some point you will even figure out that it would help you if you started to be honest about what you are feeling. At least to yourself.”
Another casually dropped bomb. Jason thinks that Rodney would make a perfectly scary villain.
“Fuck.”
***********
It’s almost funny to him, how Steph is trying to hide her limp. He is definitely incredulous that it seems to work on Bruce, as she presses her teeth together and walks on his side. Really, all the birds are just the same. Stubborn and so very intent on showing that they can handle themselves. As if the big Bat never had an injury. Jason rolls his eyes and gets on his feet, walking over to the newest offender.
“You. With me.”
He doesn’t wait to find out if his orders are being followed. The books said he has some authority in the pack. Especially about their wellbeing. Well.. The books said he should encourage healthy behavior in the pack but Jason is willing to stretch that a bit.
He hears the soft steps behind him, as he makes his way down to the cave, over to the trainings area. He points a finger down to the gym mats. “You need to stretch better.” She looks at him as if he has lost his last marbles and Jason takes offense to that. He for sure has at least three of them in reserve for rainy days. So, he rolls his eyes.
“You can fool B because he looks only for injuries. You can’t fool me. I have nothing better to do then watch your dumb asses. Get down and stretch.” After now 2 ½ months, it is the most he has talked to any of his ‘siblings’ and for the first time he hasn’t to fight himself. Pretty much all of him is of the opinion how monumentally stupid it is to ignore something like that in their vigilante lives.
Which might prompt the question if he still has such a life. But for now he shoves that aside.
She stares mulishly at him, to which he raises an eyebrow. Jason can stare down B if he has to, he can take on a somewhat funny kid. She must realize that, because she groans unhappily and actually starts the stretching exercises that have been taught. Jason crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“I can’t believe you start talking again, just to rat me out.”
Jason huffs. “If I wanted to rat you out I would have thrown you at Alfred. Stop whinnying little Alphagirl.” This gets him an unhappy but somewhat cute growl and he doesn’t stop the victorious grin. He still isn’t prepared to touch the big family line. Not even with a 10 feet pole. But he can accept packmembers like that.
“Don’t call me that. I should be above you in rank. After your little murder spree and catatonic sleepwalking.”
Shit. He might actually begin to like her. Somewhat. Jason gives a non-descript hum. “Sure. You are. So much above me.” He couldn’t sound more dishonest if he tried. “You want to put me into submission for my transgression?”
She stares at him for a good ten seconds, before shaking her head frantically. “Naw. I am good. So good. Perfectly fine.”
Jason nods. “Good talk. Get deeper to the ground with your head, you are cutting corners.”
He has no idea how, but he ends up massaging her and giving a somewhat combined lecture from the ones he got from Bruce and Dick, about the importance of stretching. And Steph might roll her eyes, but she lets him do it and follows him back up to the mansion like a lost duckling anyway.
A lost duckling that talks his ears off for the next hours. One that expects answers, now that she knows that Jason can give them. It is somewhat annoyingly cute.
Someone shoot him, please.
Where is the Pit when he needs it?
He decides to shut her up with waffles. He hits critical and she is down in sugar heaven.
Jason still got it.
*******
He is and isn’t surprised as Cass seeks him out. In the middle of the night. Sitting in his window. This pack is full of creepers. If only the police and child services knew.
She stretches her leg out and points at it. “Injury.”
Jason blinks and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. All he sees is a black clothed leg. She could have at least switched on the light. “Where? How?” His braincells might still be sleeping. After months of regular sleep like a regular human with regular times it isn’t that easy to switch to awake, ok? Some part of him has decided that the manor is save and then the rest of his body was more then happy to accept every single hour of sleep. Because he is still missing a few hundred of them.
She points.. somewhere and Jason sighs. “Fine. Lemme..” He stumbles out of his very carefully built nest and switches the light on. Still with half open eyes, he grabs the shown ankle carefully. “Where does it hurt?”
Cass stares at him for a moment and he stares right back. Only this time not to win something, but because he is confused. Her pants don’t show any sign of tear and nothing seems swollen or broken.
“Like Steph.”
“Like Steph”, he echos and blinks. “No. Wait.” He rubs a tired hand through his sleep riddled hair. “Are you telling me you want a massage?”
She smiles and nods and Jason tries to calculate if it would count as hurting pack if he would throw her out of the window. Probably.
“Now?!” Nothing in the books about being a Pack-Omega prepared him for unreasonable expectations. He has half a mind to just let himself fall back into his nest and ignore the Beta.
But she nods again and there is a little sparkle in her eyes and Steph told him about her story and.. Fuck. Fucking fuck. He is a goddamn crime lord.
“Ok”, he gives up, like the goddamn crime lord he obviously has been.
He takes her down the cave and doesn’t see a single stumble or hobble on the way there. Jason is pretty sure he just got played like a fiddle. At least only B is down there, still on the computer about one thing or another. Which doesn’t mean that the Pack-Alpha isn’t watching them, as Cass gets out of her suit and on one of the medical cots in only her underwear.
For a moment Jason – again – feels the need to shake someone and give a lecture about self-preservation. This one with a sprinkle of body security and sexual predators. But alas, he gets the damn oil and starts his work. All the while grumbling under his breath, which slowly drifts off as he recognizes how hard everything in Cass’ body is. Like. Everything. Every single muscle.
The little whine he lets out is exasperated and not horrified. Maybe he needs to give a lot of different lectures. And if he throws Bruce a venomous look that promises one of them in the Alphas near future, then it is only fair.
At least the Alpha scents him after Jason is done and rumbles deep approvals over Jasons skin. He guesses a little lost sleep was worth it.
*****
He is trying to ignore that Dick is showing Damian some moves on the training mats and has his attention on his replacement. Who looks like a bred between an owl and a panda in the moment. It’s not cute. At all.
What it is, is worrisome. It is 1 am in the morning, there is fresh coffee beside the keyboard and Jason wouldn’t have been surprised if Tim had toothpicks in front of his eyes to keep them open. Jason sighs. Why are there no normal people in this pack? B and the girls are out. It is a slow night. Almost no reported crimes. But here the little red bird is. Staring into the screen as if it holds all answers of the universe.
Shaking his head, he wanders over to medical, grabs a few things and walks, repeat: walks over to Tim and starts placing things on him as if he is a stacking tower.
And. Tim. Doesn't. Notice.
Jason gets creative.
A blanket as cape, tucked into the boys collar. Half a bandage rolled around his biceps. A tacker on his head. Stephs leftover glitter from some prank or another into the black hair. The coffee gets switched for Jasons own tea. Its honestly a bit sad how much Tim doesn’t notice.
Stepping back and observing his work, he sits down in the next best chair and sighs. Again. Jason very much doesn’t notice that the other end of the cave has gone silent. At least he can pretend until Damian pops up on his side.
“Todd.”
He gives the little Demon a quick look to acknowledge his general existence, before he is looking back to his replacement.
“I wasn’t aware that you partake in this useless and distasteful behavior of pranking.” If one would be able to gather up feelings and sell them, Jason would have a lot of disdain to sell right now.
“You aren’t aware, he isn’t aware. No one here is aware to a seriously lacking degree”, he mumbles back.
“So, this is training? And Drake is failing like usual?”
Jason can’t help the snort. How can someone so small be so condescending?
“You are also failing.”
That has the boy, and Jason will bet good money that the prissy little shit is going to be an even prissier Alpha after presenting, bristling. He kinda wants to see his face, but that would mean looking at Dick that sneaked close and is half a second away from grabbing the little prince.
“I am certainly not... Grayson! Let me down this very second!”
The enraged scream has Tim finally back into this world and falling glitter down his head, over the keyboard, which has him jumping up. Stumbling over the ‘cape’, cursing over the stapler that falls down and all in all it is perfectly fine chaos.
“Jason! What the hell?!”
At least his replacement has made out the guilty party fast. He raises an eyebrow. “You realize that sleep isn’t some optional thing you pick at the start of the day?”
Tim blinks, before frowning hard. “The case is almost done. This is important. You usually don’t care about my sleep pattern.”
Jason hums and nods. “True. And I probably wouldn’t if you had even a shred of awareness of your surroundings left.”
The boy tries to get the glitter out of his hair with agitated movement while Damian in the background tries to stab Dick with a Katana that he has brought out from seemingly thin air. That little assassin sure likes his swords.
“We are in the cave. Together. I think I am allowed to take down my guard a bit here!” Tim exclaims exasperated and takes a sip from his tea. Which he spits right back into the cup. Rude little prick.
Jason is on him a second later, hand loosely around the boys throat, backing him into the table and hovering above him while searching his gaze. He starts speaking the moment he hears the escrima stick flying and jerks both of them to the side. “You are absolutely not. It makes me honestly nervous how trusting you are.”
He bodily pulls them around, just as Dick comes flying and shoves Tim into the Alphas arms. “Get a lesson in it from Dick. It might you serve better in the long run then starring at the same picture on the screen for half an hour.”
He doesn’t look at Dick, as he backs slowly up, hands inconspicuously showing on his sides. Tim gets himself out of Dicks hold and is on him with a fury that is honestly new to Jason. He thinks it might be a good look on the replacement.
“You can’t do this shit to me in my own home!”
And Jason wishes he were a better man. Maybe even a better Omega. But he isn’t and he says: “I just did.”
Tim gives an enraged scream and is onto him. Actually trying to get hits in. “I am not fucking scared of you, Jason.”
Jason would like to say that he is bored, getting out of the fight, but interestingly he has to concentrate to not let himself open. The usually so comforting smell that Tim has around him is sour and seriously pissed.
And as the little bird remembers that he has a staff in range and grabs it, Jason wonders if he should get Tim angry more often. He sees a lot of potential if the Beta could wrap this kind of energy into actual fighting.
“You sure you wanna do this?”, he can’t help himself. He has to taunt. It’s in his bones. B got more then once annoyed with Jason as he taunted Rogues.
Now there is icy calculation in the still spittingly mad eyes. “You haven’t trained in almost three months. This might be my best chance to repay you.”
Well.. If it is like that...
Jason allows himself half a second, to get aware of where the other two are and goes for the thrown escrima stick. Not his preferred weapon. Or at all really, but he might just as well use it.
He stays on the defense, guiding them both to the trainings area, accepting one or two hits for it. They hurt a lot more then he thought they would and he wonders if it is really because he hasn’t trained for that long. Or because he had for once time to fully heal his body and not feel pain every minute of the day.
Once on the matts he stops the staff with the escrima and searches Tims eyes. “You wanna show me what you got, we do it the right way. B’s survival fight protocol. You win and I will announce to the whole world that you are the superior fighter.”
The power behind the staff doesn’t let off, but it stays where it is. The calculation in Tims eyes only deepens. “Survival fight protocol?”
Its Dick cool voice that answers that question. “It’s a no rules fight. First to three hits wins.”
“And if you win?”
Jason shrugs. “I will test your awareness every fucking time I want.”
“Deal.”
He can see it, clear as day. The little bird thinks this will be easier as it normally would. Because Jason doesn’t have guns. His grin does show a lot of teeth and interestingly it’s Dick again, who sighs.
“Tim. Remember that Jason isn’t a natural gunslinger.”
The second it takes the young bird to look at Dick, is the second it takes Jason to disengage and throw himself into the shadows of the cave. The replacement curses up a storm but does the same after a few heartbeats. Jason lets him.
Long ago Jason called B out on the survival fight protocol. In his eyes it always has been more of a hide and seek tag game. And he had been amazing at it.
But he hasn’t trained and the last time he played, he had a lot less bodymass. And his muscles had been warmed up. Still. It takes 20 Minutes before he tags Tim the first time and the annoyed scream is exactly that. Jason did really only tap. This wasn’t meant to hurt. Wasn’t meant like that from the beginning. He somehow doesn’t think that Tim knows that, as the staff hits him in the back a few minutes later.
Uff, that boy can hold a grudge. Jason can’t help the big grin. This is more fun than he had in forever. They don’t even stop as B comes back with the girls. No, they are in one of their moments when they have found each other and are fighting right through the group.
B is getting all worked up until Damian tells him to stop being dramatic and Jason and Tim are back in the shadows. By now taunting each other with more and more unrealistic threats. Jason gets hit a second time as he giggles about getting skinned like Tim learned from Hannibal Lector. He can’t even get mad.
He gets his second hit in as he recites the day B fell through a glass ceiling and Alfred started asking if he maybe didn’t want a more balanced diet in the future. It’s not only Tim that laughs at that. B rolls his eyes and declares the game open for everyone. Only one hit and out. Last bat standing.
Which has Jason backing up, deeper into the cave. He loved to explore it in his first year. The waterfall down here was one of the places he did venture to whenever everything got too much for him. Too colorful. Too much happiness. Too much attention. Truthfully, he had to adapt to new situations in his life quite a few times and sometimes he likes to do it alone.
He lets go of the wall and let himself fall. He knows the water is deep enough and it’s exhilarating to fly through the darkness. And yes, maybe he hits the water a little bit harder than planned, but it only steals his breath for a little bit. Jason can’t help the chuckles as he breaks the surface again and takes a big breath.
His sweatpants and shirt are getting heavy and he swims to the edge of the little pond or whatever this is and stems himself out of the water. Letting himself fall on his back he stretches his arms to the side and lets his feet in the water, up to his knees.
There is just barely enough light down here, from some glowing vines or whatever to make out the waterfall and the walls upwards. He feels... good. Jason had fun playing with his pack, after the first stumble with Dick. And he has fun lying here, completely wet in the dark for no reason at all. No backdoor thoughts. No holding back. No holding together. Just him in the dark with the rushing water as soundtrack.
Still, he isn’t surprised by the sudden pressure of the end of an escrima stick against his throat. Jason knew that Dick always had the ability to find him in the shadows, he just didn’t think that the Alpha would follow him down here.
Opening his eyes, he can barely make out the man, crouching over him. Maybe he imagines the dark blue eyes, glimmering at him from the darkness. He swallows. This isn’t how he expected their confrontation to go. Or to start really.
“I’m out. You got me”, he murmurs finally. Maybe it’s best to start with an expected submission. The stick doesn’t move and neither does any of them. As the Alpha finally speaks, its more of a deep growl. “Take your scent blockers off.”
And the thing is.. Jason really, really doesn’t want to. It’s the one thing he fought for in any mindset. As soon as he got into the containment cell. He wouldn’t have come out without them. And it seemed such a small price to pay for the pack, or so he has been told. His eyes are so much more of an indicator.
Jason has let them in the belief that he wants to enforce the rule because of the Pit. The truth is that he can’t control his scent for shit anymore. After he presented while with the league, they not only put him under suppressants but gave him heavy duty scent blockers.
Just another thing of his biology to learn that was taken from him. And he wasn’t prepared to do it around his old-new pack. Someone with enough attention can get quite a bit information out of scent. Jason isn’t ready to share that much of his innermost feelings with them.
Dick growls again, pressing the stick deeper into Jasons skin in warning. Jason bares his teeth without thinking about it and suddenly the stick is gone and Dick is so much closer. His strangely warm fingers glide around Jasons neck, with enough pressure to bring the threat home.
With Steph it was fun, but Dick could bring Jason into submission without problems. He thinks so at least. He never was in this position before. But faulty Omega instincts or not, he lets out the tiniest of whines and shows more of his throat. Holy moly. Fucking Dick. In every way.
“Fuck. Fine. Hold your damn horses.”
The Alpha doesn’t move, doesn’t let Jason out of his gaze as his wet fingers start searching for the patches around his scent glands. First the two on his neck, with Dicks fingers just moving enough to let Jason do it and then the two on his wrists. One of his hands gets snapped by Dicks free one and brought up to his nose. Jason blinks, wondering what the Alpha is looking for.
Right now, Jason is in a strange state of acceptance. He knew this was coming. He knew Dick would wait until he could get Jason alone. What, incidentally, was the reason Jason had relaxed his own rules about giving the Alpha space. Jason couldn’t say how he knew, only that he did. So, this here? It was unavoidable and with that came acceptance.
Which might be, what the Alpha smelled on him now. Jasons usual, neutral smell isn’t exactly something to write home about. Not unpleasant but nothing exciting either. Even for an Omega. Rodney said he smelled like old books and some sort of wax. Jason had shrugged and declared it a passable representation. He was happy enough not to smell like dried blood or something like that.
“You did hurt the pack. Badly.”
Jason nods, feeling the fingers around his neck tighten for a second before loosening again. What else is there to do or say really? There is nothing to defend himself. It’s a fact and Dick isn’t blended by Bruces guilt. The Alpha had been off planet as Jason died. There aren’t that many better reasons not to be somewhere than that.
The other birds are following Bruce. Because he is their pack Alpha. Their leader. Their Dad in some cases. They would follow him into hell. It’s easy to see why they do what they do.
There is a reason why Dick always has been gigantic in Jasons eyes. Even as a boy, the young Alpha never had problems standing up to Bruce. Standing up to Rogues. Standing up to anything that was in his way. By now the older Version of that boy was only better in hiding all that temper that Jason knew was there. The sharp mind hidden behind funny quips. The potential for aggression barely visible between all the hugs for the younger packmembers.
Jason knows better.
“I got exicted for a second as B told me you had found your way home.” Dick lets go of his wrist and leans closer. The bastard having no problems with managing his weight while still crouching, the only contact point by now being the fingers around Jasons neck. Jason frowns. The Alpha ignores it. “He told me you were almost catatonic. More unaware of the happenings around you then not. My heart was ready to break for you, Jason. And then I saw you and I knew. I knew you weren’t absent at all. To this day I can’t find a single explanation how so many intelligent people couldn’t see it in your eyes. You were very much aware and you judged them. To say that I was enraged would be an understatement. You obviously were still fucking with my pack and they didn’t believe me.”
Jason opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He has no idea how to react. It’s all true and not at the very same time. His heart hammers against his ribs, like wings would against a cage. He knew that Dick was the only one in the pack with a functioning brain. But to hear it like that still hurts.
“I knew it would break them if you decided after months of being back and being a packmember, that it was time to reveal yourself. I knew I could never get away with anything against you directly. Bruce is too paranoid with you. But I was not ready to let your mindgames destroy my family. I bugged your therapist, in the hopes that he was somehow in it and that I would understand your endgame.”
Jason can feel how the air in his lungs leave him, with an almost panicked whine. Bruce and Rodney swore to him that everything would stay between the both of them. Always. Jason could trust the snarky Omega because nothing he said would ever get further. This.. This was.. Oh god. Jason told Rodney so much. Often over hours. Sometimes more then once a day. Rodney had been the one stable thing that didn’t get weepy whenever he made a deathjoke. That didn’t get guilty. That didn’t get angry.
He might start to hyperventilate in his panic and finally Dick shushes him with a deep Alpha rumble. “I didn’t..”, the Alpha starts and shakes his head. “The moment I realized that what I listened to was real I couldn’t.. I stopped. I think in the grand scheme I didn’t hear anything that should have you panicking. Only that you had no idea what it meant to be an Omega or an Pack-Omega and that you were scared of doing it wrong and hurt the pack anyway.”
That.. That was still a lot. Jason inhales deeply, blinking against the wetness in his eyes. But Dick was also right. With everything he talked about with Rodney, this was nothing. It was even something that anyone with a braincell could guess, if they ever read his resume. But, as so often whenever Dick was involved, it hurt and it was understandable at the same time. It is very likely that Jason wouldn’t have reacted differently in Dicks place. In protection of his pack. His family.
“I always call you the one sane person in the pack”, he offers with a strangely rough voice. “The one that isn’t ready to forget what I did, just because I happen to be tamed by scenting. The one that is still prepared for it when I finally lose it to the Pit again. It’s good. One has to do it.”
And suddenly what he can see from Dicks face in the darkness crumbles, the fingers leave his neck, and he is being hauled up. Into strong arms that pull him into a hug. The kind of hug, as Jason can suddenly admit to himself, he needed and wanted from Dick from the very beginning. The kind that shuts everything else out. That blocks the world and let him feel safe. Because Dick was there, and the Alpha wouldn’t let anything get to Jason. Absolutely nothing.
“Little Wing. My Little Wing”, Dick murmurs against his neck, breath hot against Jasons still wet skin. “I won't let anything happen. I won't let go of you again.”
And suddenly Jason needs to get Dicks scent. His fingers scramble to the Alphas neck and Dick lets him. Stays relaxed instead of getting aggressive. Pulls Jason even closer to him and finally Jason gets a hold of the patches and pulls them of. The long forgotten scent of the sea filters into his nose and every single muscle in his body relaxes.
That always was Dick. The deceptive beautiful sea on a nice and sunny day. Easy to forget what water like this could do, once in movement. What power could be unleashed on the unsuspecting.
The Alpha does something behind Jasons back and he knows what, as Dick finally – fucking finally – starts scenting him. Rubbing his wrist all over the Omega. Claiming him as pack. As under the Alphas protection. Jason really, really can’t hold back the sob that escapes him.
“I am sorry you had to wait, Jay. I am so sorry.”