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OmegaTim Week other fills

Chapter Text

Tim wakes up as the alarm sounds through the Titans Tower.

It isn’t the intruder alarm, thankfully, but is the alarm for an emergency that needs their attention.

“Go back to sleep Tim,” Bart says before rushing off to get changed. The rest of the team apart from Tim all quickly following as Bart arrives back in full-costume. “We got this.”

Like hell Tim’s going to actually do that.

Once they’re all gone he stretches before getting up and out of the bed to walk over to his computer set-up the room over and putting on his headset. He can’t go out with the team, he’s not arguing that, but he also isn’t going to just sleep while his pack is out there risking their lives to save the world. Not when he can still do something.

It doesn’t take long for him to find out what the emergency was to justify waking them up – giant robots attacking New York. Because originality is apparently dead. And his team, his pack, seem to have it covered going by the cameras he’s borrowed access to.

That doesn’t mean his work is done and he can go back to bed. Giant robots are rarely, if at all, a one-off issue. No, they always tend to be followed by more giant robot attacks – either more suited to battling their enemies’ powers or mere distractions for something bigger.

Tim might not be able to be out there fighting them with the others but he can at least figure out which of the two options these giant robots are.

First thing’s first, running the schematics of this lot that he can figure out from the security footage against everyone’s databases to see if they have any glaring similarities to other giant robots someone has fought before.

There have been a lot of giant robots fought in the past so the cross-reference search takes some time.

Tim stretches again as the search runs before getting up and makes himself a hot chocolate. He’s not allowed caffeine and that’s fine, but he needs something warm to help him wake up. He grabs the tub of hazelnut spread on the way back to his setup.

The search is still running when he gets back so he leans back in his chair as he watches his team fend off the robots, spooning the spread into his mouth. There are some critiques he has of the fight he will bring up with them in the next training day but nothing that has him reaching for the coms. Instead just massaging his stomach where he can feel their baby move as he watches their pack do what they do.

The Batcomm alert goes off and Tim holds the spoon in his mouth to lean over and turn it on.

“Red Hood, this is Red Robin – what do you need?” Tim says after shoving the spoon back into the jar.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Jason’s voice asks, cracking through the comms – clearly he’s not somewhere with the best reception. “Whatever, can you look up a licence plate for me and tell me who owns it? I’d ask Oracle but they seem to be busy on another call and I kind of need it now.”

“Sure,” Tim moves the robot search to the side to open up a new one. Typing in the plate as Jason gives it. Those results are a bit more instant. “Weird – that plate isn’t registered yet.”

“Damn,” Jason mutters. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to find out where the plates are coming from for me? There’s a box of Ferrero Rochers able to be delivered if you do.”

“I’ll look into it,” Tim promises. “But it’ll take time.”

“That’s fine, I have things to do on my end while you do,” Jason says and the comms click off.

“Looks like we have a bit more work to do tonight,” Tim says, not pointedly to his stomach but it wasn’t like there is anyone else with him at that point. He puts the jar on the desk and takes a sip of the hot chocolate before setting up another search for the documents regarding the plates.

This time his giant robot search completes first. Although it doesn’t give a definitive answer – the robots share some similarities with previous ones but not enough to be definitively from the same source, instead more likely just places inspiration for them has been drawn. It’s a good amount of leads though, so Tim saves it to be investigated in the morning and checks the results from his search for Jason.

The records are there when he does and Tim starts to work through them. Every now and then glancing over to the battle against the robots to make sure there hasn’t been a sudden shift and his pack needing support.

A complete minutes later Tim’s turning his comm connection to Jason back on.

“How close are you to the docks?”

“About two minutes ride why?” Jason answers, his line clearer this time.

“The plates were shipped in but the records I have end there. Might just be they switched to a paper system or that might be where they went missing from.”

“On it, I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

The line goes dead again and that is all Tim can really do for whatever it is Jason is looking into. The giant robot fight is still going so Tim opens one of his reports for the next Wayne Industries directors meeting that needs finishing off.

By the time Tim’s finished the record the giant robot fight has wound up as well and Tim turns on the comms to his team.

“Bring me that shoulder piece,” he says because that is one of the parts of the robots that has no clear connection to any previous one. “I want Cyborg to have a look at it.”

“You should be asleep,” Cassie says.

“I’m fine – I think the shoulder is the key to figuring out where they came from-“

An alert goes off and when Tim glances at the notifications he finds it’s the search he had running for Dick for weeks now. Deathstroke finally showing up back where he can be tracked.

“What’s that?” Rose asks.

“Just an alert,” Tim says leaning over to get his phone to message Dick. “Remember – bring the robot’s shoulder.”

“On it,” Kon says, breaking one off the main body. “Now go back to bed.” 

“I will once you’re all back here.” It’s probably just the pregnancy hormones but Tim wants to have the rest, or at least a good portion, of the pack with him whenever he sleeps. Thankfully they were all very accommodating of that fact.

“We’ll be back soon,” Cassie says. “Turn off the computer.”

“I’ll check my searches first then I will.” Sure he checked all of them before going to bed but he had the time now he might as well go over them all again.

He hears Cassie sigh at it but she doesn’t say anything. Which, good – he will go back to bed when they get back because there isn’t anything pressing that can’t wait until morning. But for now he might as well check everything is still going while he waits for them to return.

Chapter Text

Wearing the Robin costume, it’s-

Okay, it’s a bit of a dream come true for Tim. A dream he would have never thought actually possibly until a couple days ago. But there’s no-one else capable of being Robin and he has Dick’s blessing and Bruce’s permission. And the suit’s been altered for him.

He’s going to be Robin.

He can’t seem to drag his eyes away from the mirror – wanting to memorise every bit of the costume, every bit of this moment in case it turns out to all be a dream.

“Tim,” Bruce says and Tim does pull his eyes away from the mirror to look at Bruce – dressed in the Batman suit but with the cowl pulled down. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.” It’s better than perfect – it’s everything he ever wanted since he figured out Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce seems happy enough with the response.

“We’ll just do a sweep of Gotham tonight to get you used to moving around the city – be at the Batmobile in 10 minutes,” Bruce says walking off, likely to get the last of his gear. Tim didn’t expect his first night out as Robin to be straight into fighting the Joker – still he hopes to earn Bruce’s trust soon so Batman can get back to doing his real work. “Don’t forget to take your collar off.”

Tim’s hand shoots up to his neck and the firm fabric encircling it at the comment. He had forgotten about it – had even put scent-blockers on underneath without even realising it was still on.

It makes sense that he has to take it off. Robin doesn’t have a designation and a collar will immediately identify him as an omega.

In order to be Robin he can’t wear the collar.

Which is fine – plenty of omegas don’t wear collars.

Dick doesn’t wear a collar. And the gossip that went around that was passing at most. The choice to wear one or not something of note but not a ground for judgement.

Really, collars are just holdovers from days long past where alphas would kidnap omegas to bond in order to gain access to their dowry or political power. Old tradition that some families still hung onto.

The Drake’s just happened to be one.

So Tim had taken on the tradition, and when he had presented as an omega had started wearing a collar.

It doesn’t actually matter to him. Doesn’t mean anything to him.

And yet when Tim reaches up to undo the collar and take it off he feels exposed. Like the piece of firm fabric that could easily be cut by any decently sharp scissors was protecting him from all the dangers of the world.  

Which is silly. In his hands it’s even more obviously just a piece of fabric. And he can still wear it as Tim Drake, probably should to help protect his new second identity. Robin just can’t wear it.

Robin isn’t Tim Drake.

Robin isn’t an omega.

Robin can’t be.

Tim closes his hand around the collar before shoving it into one of this belt compartments. It fits and might come in use. Plus that way it is on him in case he needs it.

Not that he needs it.

In case he wants it.

Not as Robin, but if he’s going undercover or needing to quickly change back to Tim Drake for something.

Because Tim Drake will continue wearing his collar.

He’ll get used to Robin not wearing one as well.

 


 

 

“Okay, no more lies or secrets,” Tim says, reaching up to remove his mask. “My name isn’t Alvin Draper – it’s Tim Drake.”

“I knew you were lying about that,” Kon says and the rest of the team look no more surprised about that fact.

“I’m not going to apologise for it,” Tim says, getting the collar out of its pocket in his utility belt and putting in on around his neck. “But I trust you all and don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

“What?” he asks when they others just stare at him.

“You wear a collar,” Cassie says. “You’re an omega?”

“Yes- so’s Nightwing.” He would say Robin is an omega-hero identity but that really isn’t true and they will never get to find out what Jason would have presented as.

A second later Bart is at his side gently poking at the material wrapped around Tim’s neck.

“I wouldn’t have thought you would be the kind of omega to wear a collar,” Bart comments.

“It’s just what my family does,” Tim says, swatting Bart’s hand away when he goes to keep poking at the collar from a different angle.

“Wait- Batman makes you wear a collar?” Kon asks.

“Not Batman, my actual family, uh, my parents.”

“Does Nightwing wear one?” Cassie asks.

“Only if it’s needed for undercover work.” The first time Tim had seen wearing a collar had been weird and not just because he was also wearing a bright pink almost 50’s style omega-dress.

“Is it uncomfortable?” Bart asks, his hand practically vibrating in clear want to touch again.

“No, it’s just a piece of fabric. Look – it really doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right it doesn’t,” Kon says. “You’ll still be our Robin even if you turn out to be lying about this name as well.”

“I’m not lying this time,” Tim says before giving up because he knows he probably deserves it. “But yeah, I’ll always be your Robin if you need me.”

Chapter Text

“Guys we need to pull back.”

“What? Why?” Bart asks. Because the mission had been going just fine. Finer than usual actually. And, sure, finer than usual did often precede blowing up in their faces, but it had actually seemed like this time wasn’t one of those times.

“Robin’s presented,” Superboy says. And, yeah, that makes sense. Can’t have your stealth dude smelling like all those first presentation pheromones no matter which way the designation pendulum had swung for him.

“Get him out of there.” Yep there’s Nightwing – their boss and Robin’s pack big brother. Bart idly wonders which of the two is fuelling that command.

“On it,” Superboy says. “Is everyone else good to get themselves out?”

Bart’s confirmation is just one in a chorus.

“Back to the base then?” Batgirl asks and with Nightwing’s confirmation that’s where they all head.

Bart gets there first because, duh, speedster. Which means he gets to sit and watch Nightwing pace back and forth until the others arrive.

Or at least Superboy and Robin arrive.

“Is he okay?” Nightwing asks hurrying over to Superboy and the bundle of Robin in his arms.

And, hey, would you smell that – Tim Drake’s an omega. Bart doesn’t remember the history books mentioning that. Cool though – another omega hero. Like Nightwing, and Black Canary, and Impulse.

They should start their own team.

“He’s fine,” Conner says.

“Seriously Dick, I’m fine,” Tim adds on. Uncurling himself and being placed down on his feet by Conner. “It hasn’t even hit that hard yet.”

“I know, still, with Batman off world,” Dick says, pulling Tim into a light hug and rubbing against his hair as if his scent will have any hope of rubbing off considering the blockers he’s wearing.

“I know,” Tim says. “Right now I just want to sleep.”

Yeah because the first designation is exhausting. Bart remembers that – wanting nothing more than to curl up somewhere and forget about everything.

“Come on,” Dick says, “I’ll make you a nest.”

Bart doesn’t exactly know where they are going to build a nest considering they’re living in an industrial building to keep themselves hidden. But Dick just leads Tim up into the top floor where they set up a makeshift living room so that’s apparently where he plans on building it.

“Come on,” Conner says, gently tapping Bart’s shoulder with his own. “We should wait for the others to get back and keep them out of Nightwing’s hair for a little.”

Bart thinks he does a pretty good job of distracting their other team members from going up and bothering their boss and newly presented teammate. But after enough time passes that is reasonably necessary to build a half-decent nest he decides to go check if they’re done himself seeing he’s an omega as well and therefore less likely to cause offence like an alpha might.

His first thought upon arriving in their current impromptu-loungeroome-impromptu-nest is that, for a makeshift nest, it’s amazingly well built. A decent range of clothing from various members of the team as well as the pillows of the lounge being well arranged to surround the two omegas in the centre.

His second thought is that this is the first time he’s actually been anywhere near Nighting when he’s not blocking. There’s clearly the scents of two omegas in the room, not that it’s exactly easy to tell them apart. Nightwing having clearly been doing his best to rub his scent well and truly over his now presented pack-sibling. Both to welcome him into the pack as a presented member and to give him a level of protection against those who might otherwise think he’s easy pickings.

His third though is how good Tim is having it. Which isn’t fair considering… everything. He doubts Tim thinks he’s having the best presentation – the Bat’s packhead of Batman out in space for a trial and them having to keep themselves hidden because of possible evil alien invasion. But despite that he’s being taken care of by his older pack member and been given a comfortable and well-populated nest to relax in while the cramps and stickiness and general suck of a first heat go through him. None of the alphas of the pack would dare to try anything with him and any foreign alpha had to fight their way through all of them to get to him.

Bart didn’t get any of them.

Which, that isn’t fair. It’s in the past. Well, future. But the point stands – the world was different when Bart presented. Being an omega was dangerous – a meta one?

Tim’s not a meta though. So he would have been fine.

Well maybe not fine – there were always the other alphas to worry about. And if the Reach found out-

No. Don’t think about that. Bart had come back in time to prevent that.

“You can let the others up if you want Bart,” Dick says, because really there’s not much Nightwing in him at the moment as he fusses on his pack sibling.

“Are you sure? You don’t want to just be left alone?” That’s all he had wanted. Terrified that any person might be a threat. Or might sell him out.

“It’s fine,” Tim says with a yawn. “I think I smell as much of pack as possible until Batman comes back. It’s not like my bed’s anymore private than here anyway.”  

“Alright – I’ll let them down.” Bart’s down the stairs in a flash and informs the rest of their team that the upstairs hangout room is officially open again.

Most of the members instead elect to go home or straight to bed. Because, even if Nightwing and Robin claim they’re cool with the others coming into their nest, it doesn’t mean everyone just feels comfortable walking into two omegas nest.

Conner goes upstairs though. And Bart ends up following him up for lack of anything better to do. It’s not like he really has anywhere else to go and they did say it was okay for the others to join.

Tim is asleep against Dick’s side by the time they make it up. And Dick presses his finger against his lips to remind them to be quiet and let the younger omega sleep. He smiles at Conner though – one of thanks and familiarity. And Conner just settles in next to the nest – watching over it for any threat even if he isn’t making it obvious.

Bart shifts along the outside of it – not daring to enter it but also not really knowing where to settle down.

Conner eventually just tugs him down by his side and Bart takes the silent command to stay there seriously. Nightwing might be the undisputed Head of the Team’s pack but Conner seems to be the accepted second-in-charge currently. And it isn’t like Dick is acting much like Nightwing and really is he still Head if he isn’t being Nightwing?

Bart can admit it’s nice though – a proper pack nest with a proper pack.

This is why he sacrificed everything to come back and try and stop the invasion. Everyone deserved a chance for a presentation like this and not like his – one that while not perfect is still comfortable and supported.

That was why he had no option but to succeed.