Chapter Text
It began as a quiet night.
Dick is alone and cold, but that’s nothing new. Neither is the unnatural hush outside of his little box of darkness, a constant reminder of the danger they’re always in. But he’d rather have unnerving silence than the alternative.
He isn’t sure what time it is when the obnoxious screeching of the door at the end of the hall slices through the relative peace. They don’t have access to watches or clocks or windows, anything that would tell them the time, except for when they’re lent out.
He can’t help the shudder that runs through him as heavy footsteps thunder down the corridor, a conditioned response that always makes him burn with shame. The tiny barred window at the front of his cage casts a small square of light on his floor and he curls up behind it, rubbing his head against the metal wall. It’s cool against his clammy skin, still recovering from his last miserable heat. His thighs are still bruised and trembling.
“Alright, bitches! Best behavior,” a sneering voice shouts down the dim hall, bouncing off the metal cages—kennels, they sometimes like to call them—lining both walls. Dick knows ‘best behavior’ means that someone’s getting sold or rented, and it means to shut up and be obedient. Anyone could be on the menu.
A loud slam makes Dick jerk, limbs seizing up in a momentary strike of fear. It’s the distinct sound of a boot kicking a cage door nearby, a promise that punishment will come later for whatever unlucky omega even dared to sneeze after the announcement.
The sound of footsteps is soon joined by multiple voices. They stop somewhere further to Dick’s left and he inches closer to the bars, quiet as possible, to get a peek of what he can. It’s not hard to be quiet when the leather straps of the muzzle dig into the sides of his face and head, pinching skin in a way he’s grown used to.
They’re opening a cage and collaring one of the omegas that’s a few years older than Dick. He barely suppresses a low, sad whine. The other omega—Joey—had curled up with Dick and a younger omega girl, Terra, during an hour-long reward for good behavior. They’d grown close after that, seeking out one another during rewards and pressing close until the alphas tore them apart.
Unfortunately, Dick had to admit that the alphas who ran the ring had a clever system. Omegas needed scent—pack was ideal, but anyone’s would do—to remain physically and emotionally stable. Without it, they grew weak and frail, more prone to illness and eating disorders. The lack of scent and bonds could lead to severe depression or anxiety. All of it together created a dangerous desperation that bordered on feral, making it easier for their captors to control them.
Keeping them isolated in metal cages that restricted scent meant they were surrounded by nothing but their own misery for hours, days, and would fall into any alpha’s arms for a second of reprieve. Allowing “good” omegas a short span of time to cuddle with each other kept them from going completely feral between alphas, even if it was an hour of lying half-naked and shivering against each other on the floor in a cold room. They were the few blissful moments Dick had left to hold on to.
It’s been a long time since Dick was allowed a reward. His blanket (one he’d earned five months earlier for pleasing a particularly picky—but rich—client) was stripped from him around a week ago, and not long after, he was removed from his usual cell and placed into one of the highly secured cages, one that required a special key to open.
He hadn’t tried to run away. He just…well, sometimes he couldn’t help it. It was like seeing life outside of their comfortless prison reminded him that there was something to fight for, and it made him…energetic. The alpha he’d been servicing hadn’t liked his minor rebellion in bed, even all Dick had done was pout. But it was his fault. Dick knew better, and he deserved this.
Privately, he thought that the alphas were getting angrier with him, no matter what he did. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been sold yet, and the usuals were getting bored with him. Omegas who weren’t sold, or who got too old or broken, got stripped of any small comforts they might have and taken away to the back of the warehouse. They weren’t seen again.
Joey was being sold, by the looks of it. He leans away from the alpha clipping a chain to his leash, and Dick aches. They won’t like that. When the slimy-looking businessman yanks him out, Joey lets off soft whining noises. They stop when the man hits him across the face.
Dick ducks in his cage, pulling his legs up. Joey wouldn’t want him to watch.
The shouting starts a moment later.
A gunshot goes off; Dick flinches and presses into the corner of his cage. He hears other omegas start to cry and mentally urges them to quiet down before they all get beaten for it. A familiar alpha’s voice yells something crude, and someone else responds with something about the bats.
Batman and Batboy…here? They’ve never come before.
“Hands up, fuckers!” someone booms, followed by a pattering of gunshots. The wailing of younger omegas gets louder.
A loud, earsplitting metallic noise makes Dick whimper and slap his hands over his ears. It’s followed by quiet. When he gains the courage to peek outside, he sees that the cage doors of occupied cells have all opened, controlled by automatic locks.
Except for his, and its special key. Dick’s stomach sinks.
There are new people in the hallway, familiar in a way that an actor on the television is, one you haven’t seen in years but are sure that you know. They wear masks and dark suits with bat symbols across the chest. The alpha who runs the place and Joey’s buyer are knocked out against the wall.
The Bats are going from cell to cell, coaxing out the other omega trafficking captives. He spots Batboy by the hallway entrance, helping a few of them to the cop leading them away.
Dick sinks down against the cold metal floor, keening softly into the darkness. He– he wants to be let out too. But he’s too scared. He’s not supposed to make noise in his cage. He’s already been punished so much lately…what if the Bats see him in his still-locked cage and realize he’s a badly behaved omega?
The voices outside are jumbling together, so many people talking at the same time. He manages to catch Joey’s voice over the rest, and again he strains to see down the hall, the bars pressing the sides of his muzzle tighter. One of the Bats, a girl in purple, has her arms around his trembling friend. Another is gently petting Joey’s hair, and the omega leans into it.
He’s clearly nervous, but he looks at the vigilantes with big eyes. “Hurt—scared—please,” Joey was saying, only bits and pieces reaching Dick, and he desperately listens harder, but he can’t hear the rest. The red-black-brown Bat petting his hair turns and looks down the hall in Dick’s direction.
Dick blinks back tears as he moves back into the chill of his cell. He hopes they don’t hurt Joey.
Footsteps, like heavy boots. Loud. Close.
Dick almost stops breathing when he risks glancing out of the bars and catches the white lenses of a mask. Struck with terror, he flattens himself on his belly, as submissive as presenting positions can get.
“Shit,” he hears the masked person say. “Cardinal, get over here!”
“What?”
“Help me get this open. There’s someone in here.”
“On it.”
A piercing click, and seconds later, the cage door swings open. Dick squints against the suddenly blinding light, and when his eyes adjust, a soft, compassionate face peers down at him.
“Hey, omega,” the one in red says, modulated voice shockingly soft for something so frightening. “You’re safe. They can’t hurt ya.”
“You’ve got a good friend over there,” Cardinal soothes.
Dick just trembles against his cage floor, too afraid to do or say anything. His face is pressed against the cold metal and gods, the tears burning in his eyes make his throat sting, but he can’t start crying or he won’t be able to breathe properly with this thing on his face.
“Easy, now.” The larger man with the helmet reaches into his cage and somewhere down the hall, an omega starts wailing, and Dick flinches from the hand and the sound and then his stomach drops when he realizes what he’s done.
He doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating until the Bats start commanding each other:
“Hood, take the helmet off, he needs your scent—”
“Get the muzzle off, it’s hurting him!”
There’s tugging on his head, and for the first time in what feels like days, the leather constricting his face falls to the floor. But this time, it’s him who’s struck with fear, choked and crying and scrambling back because he knows he’s in for a beating, but if he can just put it off a little bit longer…
Hands maneuver him, pulling him forward and out of his cage, and he waits for it to start hurting but it doesn’t. Instead he’s pulled into someone’s lap, and no– no no no– he’s still wounded from last time his ass was beat and fucked.
And then his face is pressed against the crook of someone’s neck and pure alpha-safe-protect floats around him. He’s right against a scent gland. Every inhale forces more of the alpha scent into his lungs and eases his hindbrain, and though he’s still crying, he clings extra tight to his new alpha, and breathing comes easier.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, shhh…” a voice murmurs in his ear. A large hand rubs slow circles into his back and Dick keens, nuzzling into Alpha’s neck. “That’s it…there you go. Just breathe.”
His shoulders begin to lose their tension. He can follow Alpha’s order. He can be a good boy. Dick’s eyes slip closed and he lets the scent drunkenness lure him into sleep.
“—waking up!”
Dick blinks. Red and blue flashes in his peripheral, and noise, so much noise, makes him wince and duck his head.
A large, warm hand cups the side of his face, covering his ear, and Dick freezes. That– he’s on an alpha’s lap. They’re both still fully clothed, so what—
He leans back. White lenses stare back at him.
Dick squeaks in sudden fear, clutching fistfuls of leather and throwing himself against the alpha’s chest. His brown jacket provides the perfect place to hide from the rest of the world. The hand shifts to the back of his neck and Dick trembles.
“Easy,” a low, soothing voice rumbles against him. The hand doesn’t squeeze in a scolding scruff, just scratches gently at his hair. “You’re doing so good. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Dick peeks outside the jacket, taking a moment while his heart thuds anxiously to work out his situation. Alphas like to think omegas are dumb—and Dick must’ve been, to get snatched off the corner he worked at sixteen—but he isn’t stupid.
He can see the flashing lights of the police vehicles and ambulances, and the many omegas being taken away in different cars. He hopes these cops aren’t corrupt ones. But more importantly, he notices that he isn’t with them. For some reason, the Bats have taken him aside. Hood is still petting his hair. Dick suspects they’re going to keep him.
Do they know he’s disobedient? Is that why they chose him, to train him to be a proper pack bitch? Is he meant to be the Bats’ personal toy? His heart rate picks up, panic tight in his throat. Dick isn’t– he can’t survive that. He’s seen how big Hood is. He doesn’t even want to imagine Batman. And– forever? The trafficking ring is gone. Where he goes, he goes for good.
“Car,” someone says, and the chest under him rumbles an agreement. Then Dick’s being lifted into the air.
He gasps, choked, and wraps his arms desperately around the alpha. Please don’t drop him. Please don’t—
They’re going down, ducking in a way Dick associates with getting into a car. He’s shifted to be more comfortable on Hood’s lap in the vehicle, but clothes remain on, and Dick swallows his confusion down.
“Is he awake?” someone asks, a voice distinctly younger, almost haughty-like. Dick’s instincts react instantaneously. Pup.
“Yeah, so hush,” Hood says, and Dick’s breath catches. The alpha wouldn’t hurt a pup, would he? He has to– he needs to protect—
“We’ll get him looked over in the Cave,” a low voice, lower than Hood’s, commands the attention of the vehicle. Dick peeks an eye open, and the shadow of two pointed bat ears over the headrest makes him freeze. “He’s likely injured. We’ll figure things out from there.”
“We’re not giving him to the government,” Hood says, near instantly. Dick almost pouts at them talking over his head—he’s right here—but he remembers what happened the last time he did that to an alpha and refrains.
“I wasn’t—” Batman starts.
He swears he can see a flash of green behind the domino mask Hood wears. “You think those omega in-homes are any better than that place we just busted?” he asks furiously, and Dick shrinks in on himself. Hopefully the alpha doesn’t direct his anger towards the easiest thing in reach. The movement makes his lower half sting, irritating old tears and wounds, and Dick whines.
Hood checks him over, clutching him closer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, only loud enough for the omega to hear, and Dick’s pained expression settles. “We’re going to take you to a trusted doctor. It’s going to be okay.”
The boy in the passenger seat, pale and curtain-haired, swivels to face them. “I think you’re emotionally attached,” Cardinal says matter-of-factly, looking pointedly at Hood. He shares a teasing look with the youngest Bat, who Dick now realizes is sitting beside him and Hood. Dick narrows his eyes at the new object of his focus. Slick black hair, guarded look, brown skin a shade darker than Dick’s.
Pup.
“Shut up.”
“Just calling it like I see it,” Cardinal says, and it clicks in Dick’s mind that this isn’t co-worker behavior. They act like brothers. “You got your scent all over him. Now your hindbrain thinks he’s pack.”
“What was I supposed to do, let him pass out?” Hood snarls defensively.
Dick’s eyes are on the boy. Batboy, his common sense recalls. Puppy, says his omega. Puppy with no omega.
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Cardinal shrugs, turning to look at Batman in the drivers seat. The man just grunts, but Cardinal breaks out into a grin. “B?”
“We’ll see.”
The others are glancing at each other like they know something Dick doesn’t. They probably do. But Batboy finally notices that Dick’s been watching him, and their gazes lock together. Batboy stares with a critical eye, but he looks a little constipated, like he’s trying to soften his expression so he doesn’t appear menacing. It’s adorable.
Dick shuffles slightly, mindful of the alpha whose lap he’s in, and sticks his wrist out to the boy. He makes a quiet, eager chuff, a sound he’s never made before. One that’s meant to call pups.
A hush falls over the car. The boy moves closer, looking a bit unsure. His masked gaze darts up to something above Dick’s head, presumably Hood, and whatever look Hood gives him encourages Batboy to get closer. He hesitantly brings his wrist up, rubbing it against Dick’s, a gentle scent marking.
His pup. Dick chuffs again.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be…horrible…to introduce an omega to the pack,” his puppy says, and Dick impulsively pulls him close. The boy doesn’t fight, instead reluctantly resting his head against Dick.
“Oh, thank God,” Cardinal says. “We need something other than alpha testosterone in the manor.”
“Would– would I—” Dick starts nervously, voice hoarse but his confidence steadily rising. All their eyes turn to him in a second. There’s a good chance he’ll be punished for speaking without permission, but maybe if he’s really good and makes up for it later, they won’t hurt him so bad. “Would I be for…all of you?”
“No,” Hood says sharply, curling over Dick and the pup protectively. The amusement that was there before is gone from everyone’s faces. It’s like the oxygen has been sucked from the car, leaving everyone quiet and holding their breaths. “We don’t hurt each other. We won’t hurt you.”
“But…” Dick licks his lips, gathering the courage to continue. “Why else would you…”
“We save people,” Batboy says simply, like that’s all there is to it. “What those traffickers were doing was wrong. They will be facing justice, and their victims will receive adequate care. Todd scent marked you, so we could not leave you.”
Todd…?
“Jason,” Hood clarifies, reading the look in his face. “I’m Jason Todd. Nice to meet ya.” He nods to the others in the vehicle—Bruce Wayne, who Dick vaguely feels like he should know, Tim, and Damian. Damian. His puppy’s name is Damian.
“What we’re going to do is take you to a very special, trusted doctor who is going to check to make sure any injuries you have are treated and non-fatal,” Batman says from the front seat, and his voice has lost the intimidating gravel. He sounds warm, almost…kind. “Then you’re going to get a bath and new clothes and a bedroom where you’ll sleep, undisturbed, for as long as you want. We’ll discuss the rest in the morning.”
His head is spinning. It’s too much. Too much to consider, too much to hope for, too much to process.
“Could you tell us your name?” Batman asks, and it genuinely sounds like a question, not a command.
“I’m Dick,” he answers quietly, wondering if this is too good to be true. If he’s still in his cage and his last beating caused a brain bleed, and now he’s dying and hallucinating a rescue in his last moments. This can’t be real.
The arms around him tighten, and Dick finds that it’s more comforting than threatening. “What?”
“My name. It’s short for Richard.” When Jason begins rubbing circles into his back, recognizing his anxiety, Dick risks letting himself go boneless under the ministrations. Hesitantly, he lets out a soft purr, flinching at himself before continuing when the alpha doesn’t slap him for it.
“Well, Dick,” Jason says, smiling as his purrs get louder. “Welcome to the pack.”
Dick closes his eyes. Maybe when he opens them, it won’t look like he opened them at all, and he’ll be back in cold, dark little cage. Or maybe he’ll open them and the faces of his new pack will be there, arms holding him close without touching him in places he doesn’t want to be touched, and nothing will hurt. Maybe he’ll open them and he’ll have a pup and a pack and a home.