Archive of Our Own

The majority of Nanda Parbat’s population was made up of betas. They were good soldiers and servants, who did not chafe under the command of their betters and were not prone to animalistic displays of dominance, unlike alphas. These last were the second largest group, though in significantly smaller numbers. It was no good to keep too many of them in the same place, no matter they physical superiority. The process of selection was strict, and the ranks carefully watched. Grandfather allowed no room for dissent or rebellion.

Damian rarely spared a thought to the omegas in Nanda Parbat.

There were even fewer of them than alphas, and the purposes they served were less diverse. Plainly said, they were whores meant to sate the baser needs of the alphas of the city or assassins who used their wiles to entrap their victims. For a time during Damian’s infancy, there were a few nursemaids who looked after him and fed him in the way his mother would not lower herself to do. Each lasted less than the last, to keep him from developing an inconvenient bond and become attached to them.

So seldom he saw them, it was easy to forget their existence. Even with his mother being one herself, for she rarely went without scent blockers and did not display the typical omega behaviors he had learnt from in books. The daughter of Ra's al Ghul was above such things.

Damian was ten years old when the odds and fortune decided to laugh at him and arrange his fate, making him suffer through his first fever in a daze of confusion and panic.

Omegas could not be heirs, nature itself had dictated. Damian knew this, his mother knew this better than anyone else, and yet as the heat burned away, he dared to think he would be the exception. He was, after all, the son of the Batman and the blood of the Demon’s Head. Surely a short fever could not change that.

He was swiftly disavowed of his silly notions. Damian’s fate was sealed the day he presented. He was removed from his position as heir apparent and made to sweat under his grandfather’s disappointed gaze. He could still be of use, were the words he told him, unlikely with the intention of comforting him. Much like his mother before him, Damian would bear a child with a worthy sire one day, and they would become the new heir apparent. His lineage should no go to waste on account of his gender.

He was not barred from continuing his training, much to his relief, but Damian still found himself frustrated. He had a destiny to fulfill- How dare his own body betray him so? His birthright was robbed from him, unjustly, he did not dare to voice. He resented his child-to-be. It was barely a concept he could wrap his head around – Damian al Ghul bearing a child, weeks before he would have cut down anyone bold enough to utter such a thing – and yet this nebulous image had better prospects than him. It was so easy to make it the object of his wrath and frustrations.

Damian, however, did not have much time to unleash these feelings in a productive matter, for shortly after his fever abated, his mother sent him to Gotham and left him in his father’s care, leaving the matter of his future up to a virtual stranger.

Damian had always thought that meeting his father would go a certain way, regardless of the road, the destination was one and the same: Damian would take up his mantle and be made his heir. With so little time to adapt to his new reality, he had failed to prepare for how things could potentially go.

He was not received warmly. Not- Not that he expected it, or wanted it, really.  His mother had told him that his father was prone to sentimentalities, for an alpha anyway, but he saw not a glimpse of them in the first weeks under his care.

Damian would not be made his heir, this much was clear to him, even if his father’s legacy should fall on him by blood alone. There were plenty of betas and a few alphas in the lot of strays his father had gathered across the years, and it was apparent that the cowl was to be passed onto one of them.

He had known to a certain degree that he was not going to enjoy the same status that he did in Nanda Parbat prior to his presentation, but Damian thought that being the blood son would automatically place him high in his father’s regard and esteem (as well as in the pecking order of his so-called pack).

Damian could not have been more wrong.

His father simply… did not care for him. Not for any distaste for omegas, which would have somehow stung less, but because he was, well, Damian.

He recalled his mother with little to no fondness and openly abhorred his customs and training. Damian, though he would never admit it, did not sleep easily knowing that any future matches would be arranged by him, given that he was no longer under his grandfather’s rule. Surely, he would treat the matter with the delicacy it required, even if he disliked Damian.

Right?

Damian did not hold anyone closely at Nanda Parbat, not even his mother, but her absence was never so sorely felt. He was lonely and surrounded by strangers who showed him no respect. Why would them? He was nothing but an unwanted omega son. The life he was meant to have could only be tasted in ephemeral dreams.

It crossed his mind to return to Nanda Parbat to complete his training. Even if he had little desire to grow into a honeyed trap, it was better than sitting at Wayne Manor gathering dust and disdained. Coming back, however, meant putting himself under his grandfather’s thumb… And from afar, the prospect was far more daunting than remaining at his father’s mercy.

He wished to honor his grandfather and earn his place by his side, but he knew the only way to do so would be to submit himself to whatever arrangement he saw fit for him. Likely to take place not long after he had a proper heat- and though he loathed to admit it, Damian’s guts twisted themselves into knots at the thought of having anything to do with an alpha in any sort of intimate fashion.

He tried to remember the faces of the omega assassins in Nanda Parbat. They had been slender and deadly, with delicate features and alluring manners. Young? Certainly youthful, older than Damian but younger than his mother.

Father seemed to share none of his grandfather’s ambitions and seemed happy enough to let outsiders partake on his mission. When he chose a mate for Damian – when because it would happen eventually – it was unlikely that he would do so with dynastic purposes. Hell, he might even allow Damian a word on the matter. None of his father’s so-called children had mates or pups of their own, and all of them were past their majority, and while it was not the same with omegas, he entertained the thought that such an arrangement would be postponed until he was well into adulthood.

His father’s disdain became slightly easier to bear after he realized that. Better to make peace with it than with a new alpha.

There’s no telling how things would have moved forward if Damian’s father had not died.

Looking back, it made sense to a degree that Grayson was the only one who actively tried to bring him into the fold, even before Father’s death. Damian posed not threat to his position, neither as heir apparent or as the recipient of their father’s affections – because for all that they fought often and loud, it was obvious even to Damian that they cared deeply for each other.

The pack was thrown into disarray when Father died. Pennyworth mourned, Drake was in denial, the wayward son was nowhere to be found, and Grayson, as his father’s eldest and only alpha son, bestowed his mantle upon Damian as he put on the black cowl.

For someone of the allegedly submissive dynamic, Damian did not find it easy to live under Grayson’s command. Not at first at least. He may have He may have taken his father’s place in the pack hierarchy but that did not mean Damian would bare his throat and roll over at every order. Thankfully, Grayson never once forced him into submission, even when Damian gave him plenty of reason.

In more ways than one, Grayson was nothing like Father. Where Father made his disappointment evident and showed it through stony silences, Grayson seemed to be physically incapable of shutting up. He gave his input when Damian did not ask for it, constantly attempted to start conversations and insisted on taking him on non-tactical or training related outings. He was one persistent man.

Damian could not make sense of it for a long time. What interest could he possibly arouse on Grayson? For a while he believed the other was trying to get a whiff of his weaknesses – which were non-existent – but eventually he came to the conclusion that Grayson was just trying to… get to know him?

If Damian gave him an inch, Grayson took it as an incentive to attempt a mile. The penthouse they moved into was big enough for them to spend most of their free time apart, but this somehow was not the reality. Grayson sought him and often, and Damian did not avoid him, even if his presence could get overbearing at times.

Grandfather would have called him soft. He never tugged at the metaphorical leash he had on Damian. He was a very indulgent alpha, in fact, and asked for almost nothing in return. He insisted that Damian openly voiced his needs if he had any and tried to get him to ‘open up’. Grayson even attempted to initiate physical contact without prompting.

Damian tried to behave in the manner that an omega raised in Nanda Parbat ought to… But he was not in Nanda Parbat anymore, was he? And if his new alpha wanted to give him head pats and run his fingers through his hair while he dozed off on the couch- Who was Damian to say no? Why should he abstain from partaking into movie nights, greasy food, and recreative activities that served no purpose to their cause?

Damian began to feel… needy, for a lack of a better description, for things he had never even dared to privately wish for. His pride kept him from asking, but Grayson was perceptive enough to know.

He drew the line at the stuffed tiger he received as a gift and promptly threw it at Richard’s hopeful face, his own burning with embarrassment as he yelled in a cracking voice about how he was not a child and would not be treated like one.

If the tiger still found its way to his nest – another baser thing that would make his grandfather’s face pinch - anyway that was nobody’s business.

So, they settled into a comfortable routine, of long nights patrolling and busy days of school, which Damian had been forcefully enrolled in despite having no need for it.

Drake was nowhere to be seen, still on a fool’s errand looking for Damian’s father, which was fine by him, since he could not say he missed the other boy. Pennyworth visited often, making sure they were not swimming in their own trash - Richard was a bit of a messy alpha - and eating take out exclusively.

Things were great, and they could have continued to be great if it were not for Damian’s nature, betraying him once again.

He grew easily irritated, more so than usual, quick to snap and hiss at Richard for seemingly no reason. He felt a stranger in his own skin, constantly bumping into things as if he had not been trained since birth to be the picture of grace. He stank, to put it plainly. Richard playfully sprayed him with deodorant when he walked past by him, which did nothing to help his moods. He felt his body grow tender and his energy betray him, making the task of getting up for school every morning an uphill battle.

Damian willfully brushed it off as nothing for as long as he could, and would have happily gone on ignoring it if it was not for Richard.

One day, he arrived from school and found the alpha waiting for him at the penthouse with a little pamphlet in his hand.

‘Changes in my O-wsome body’

There were alphas that got squeamish around the topic of omegas’ cycles, he had learned. Richard, unfortunately, was not one of them.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. This just means that you’re healthy and growing,” Richard said once they went through the pamphlet together. He gave Damian a reassuring, if a bit awkward smile.  

If Damian was ever forced to hear the word discharge leave Richard’s lips again, he would disembowel him and then himself. He had never desired more strongly for the earth to swallow him.

“…and since you’ll be making a bigger nest, I thought we could go shopping together. You could also order the stuff online with my card, but maybe it would better if you felt the fabrics first. We can probably get a sampler somewhere…”

Damian’s face burned so hotly that his skin could have melted An omega’s nest was a sacred, private thing- So what if he had allowed Richard to tuck him in more than once, that did not give him the right to speak about it so openly!

“…and while they are supposed to grow more intense with time, that doesn’t mean they should be painful. So, anything above mild cramping and we are going to Leslie- Though we should probably go to Leslie before it happens, she can probably explain this to you better than me- “

“I don’t anyone to explain anything!” He squeaked, mortified. “Do you think me ignorant?”

Richard’s eyes softened.

“Of course not. But these changes can be scary- “

“I’ve had my first fever already,” he reminded him. “And I know what to expect. I’m not afraid,” Damian spat the word derisively.

Richard’s expression did not change.

“Alright,” he conceded. “Just let me know when you enter pre-heat, it’s hard to tell with your scent still being so…milky.”

Milky, as if he were a child. Damian might just disembowel him now.

“I’m a grown omega.”

“You’re a growing omega,” Richard retorted gently. “Like I said, let me know. Blockers should cover you just fine, but you can skip school this time if you want to,” Damian suppressed a triumphant smile. “No patrol though, that’s not up for discussion. I’ll have to find someone to cover me for when you’re in heat…”

Damian frowned. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you need someone to cover you?”

“Someone has to take care of you, Damian.” Richard said, as if he had asked an obvious thing.

Damian felt like the floor was robbed from beneath his feet.

“…take care of me.”

Richard did not…He never so much as hinted that he wanted that from him. His kindness and affection were freely given and without the expectation of reward, much less one of such nature.

Damian probably misunderstood something.

Right?

“That’s not up for discussion, either.” Richard said lightly, still smiling so fondly.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine, and some of his feelings must have spilled onto his face.

“I guess I could ask Alfred to stay over while I’m on patrol- “

“No!”

Damian knew the role of beta servants in such matters and… No. No.

Richard raised his hands. “Like I said, nothing to be ashamed of. He took care of me when I was young too.”

Damian’s stomach turned. He felt dirty, like his entire body was covered in something greasy and disgusting.

“Hey, don’t make that face,” Richard squeezed his shoulder. “Everything will be alright.”

The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, and the angrier he grew.

They say denial was the first stage of grief, but Damian burned through it and went straight to anger.

Everything made sense now, from Richard’s endless patience to him willingly passing the mantle of Robin. All the gifts and his touchiness- The last year was suddenly cast in a different light.

Damian had no one to blame but himself. It became evident why an omega could not be the heir to the League- Damian had closed his eyes to the truth, stupidly, became willfully blind to Richard’s intentions, and now he had the gall to be appalled.

Richard never lied to him. His actions would have been obvious to an outsider, and they should have been obvious enough to Damian as well. He had just deluded himself into believing that Richard had seen Damian beyond his unfortunate nature and found something worthy. His foolishness made his eyes sting.

Richard truly was his father’s dutiful son, taking on his crusade and omega son. Damian could not even be mad at him; it was the right thing to do. Even Grandfather would be hard pressed to find fault in his actions.

Still… That did not make the pill any easier to swallow.

Why now? He wanted to ask him, but he did not dare to breach the subject, all to happy ignore reality once more.

He had a vague notion of when Richard’s ruts hit. The weeks before he was clingy and protective, downright dangerous to their foes in the field when they got too close to Robin. Damian spent days trying to scrub the familiar stay-away-or-die scent off of him.

He had never been present for the- carnal portion of it. Grayson never lacked partners and would usually be back after a couple of days, looking fresh and happy. Pennyworth would roll his eyes at the sight of his cheery smile.

Could it be that Richard was waiting for him to reach maturity? That was- considerate of him. Kind, or so he told himself.

Damian could do much worse. It could have been an ancient stranger, rough and uncouth, without patience or desire to indulge his silly omegan whims of vigilantism. Damian should be grateful that this was not the case.

Richard had his share of partners, some of whom Damian knew personally, and seemed to remain in good terms with all of them despite no longer being involved.

That was a good sign, right?

Of course it was, Richard was not going to turn into a different person after he… After.

Why couldn’t he be grateful? Why was it that food turned his stomach, and he kept tossing and turning in his nest, unable to find comfort in the familiar scents?

Richard kept giving him concerned looks but knew to give him space when he was like that.

It was the best he could hope to get. So why couldn’t he make peace with it? What was this feeling of… betrayal? He couldn’t even make sense of it. He hadn’t been tricked or cheated, so why did he feel so wounded?

Damian had grown soft, he decided. Spoiled.

This was what his father would have wanted - or maybe not, he would never push his defective omega son onto his favorite one – and so Damian would do what was expected of him. Even if it made his throat feel tight and his chest constrict.

Richard would never hurt him. This was something Damian knew.

Richard held back when they sparred, much to his displeasure, he fussed over bruises, much to his irritation, and made sure to clean even the tiniest of cuts.

When they- When he- He wouldn’t hurt him. Damian knew this, but his heart still raced wildly when Richard gathered him in his arms after being hit with a full dose of inducers right to his face.

“Oracle, can you- Yes, great. I’m taking Robin home.”

Damian shivered. His head was spinning unpleasantly, and his body was growing uncomfortably warm inside his suit. This was nothing like his first fever, this was akin to an inferno, an army of ants crawling beneath his skin.

A whimper left his lips, and Richard rubbed his back in response. His touch was equal parts soothing and chilling.

The trip to the penthouse had never felt so short before.

In other circumstances, Damian would have opposed loudly to being carried from the Batmobile. As he was right then, all he could do was cling to the alpha.

The penthouse felt unusually cold and still, a silent witness to what was about to take place.

Richard did not bring him to his room immediately. He stopped at the bathroom and sat him on the toilet. The bright lights hurt his eyes. Damian hugged his middle, feeling like a lost child.

Richard removed his gloves and cupped his face with his palm. He was almost cold by comparison.

“Are you up for a shower?”

Damian shook his head weakly. He wanted to hide under his blankets and never come out. He was not a coward, but he was not in his right mind. Richard would take that into consideration, he was sure of that.

“Alright, then, here we go.”

Richard found took some clothes from the hamper, which would have disgusted him under any other circumstances. He helped him off his suit, Damian shivering miserably all the while, but his hands were swift and did not linger.

He was soon sitting in a too-large shirt that was likely Richard’s and loose basketball shorts. He never went anywhere near the line of his underwear.

Richard peeled off his scent blockers for him, and carefully poured a solvent on the edges of his mask.

“I’m not… an invalid.”

“Ivy must be losing her touch if you can still speak after that.” Richard laughed, but Damian heard the worry in his voice. He cared about Damian. This much he had suspected, why did the knowledge hurt? “Think you can get to your room on your own? I do need a shower before I join you.”

Damian nodded stiffly. Richard nodded back and offered a reassuring smile.

Right before he made it out of the bathroom, the powerful stench of alpha distress invaded his nostrils, making him choke. He turned and caught a glimpse of Richard’s bare neck, scent blockers still in his hand, glands swollen.

Damian had half expected to get a whiff of the spicy tang of alpha arousal. He was unfortunately familiar with it, having smelled it during patrols, when the lowest of the low preyed on the innocent. He disliked it greatly; it made his nose itch unpleasantly. He recalled how upset Richard had been the first time Damian had to witness an attack. The scum of the streets would later whisper that the Bat must have been close to his rut, for the violence he had shown that night was remarkable.

He limped to his room, where he dived into his nest without thought. Immediately, he felt soothed. He buried his face in the pillow, surprised to find it growing damp beneath him.

Oh, he would not survive this if he broke into tears like a child.

The door of his room creaked open, and Richard walked in, towel on his shoulders. He was dressed, thankfully, and now clean.

“I brought you some water,” he placed the bottle on the nightstand. “Hydration is important.”

Damian could not even muster the will to agree. His lower stomach cramped painfully.

“Talk to me,” he said in the dark. “What are you feeling?”

“…hot.”

Dick chuckled lightly. “I bet. Pain?”

Damian hugged the pillow tighter. 

“It’s probably the inducers. They should not be dangerous, but they are probably making things worse than they should be.”

His hand slipped between Damian’s cheek and the pillow.

“Oh, Dami.”

Richard sounded sad. Like he was ready to match Damian’s tears.

He had seen him cry before. It was not a pleasant experience. It made him uncomfortable and left him feeling helpless in a way he could not explain.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have been out tonight to begin with. I- I should’ve protected you.”

Damian did not know how to console him, so he just leaned into his touch, finding comfort in it despite everything.

Richard seemed to find it comforting too.

“C’mon, sit up a little. You need to drink.”

He grunted in response but allowed Richard to tilt up his head and press the bottle to his lips. The water was cold, a soothing balm to his burning insides.

“Good boy.”

Damian coughed.

Richard rubbed the blankets between his fingers.

“Want me to join you?” He asked quietly.

Damian froze.

It wasn’t up for discussion, that’s what he had said. Damian wanted him by his side almost as much as he wanted an ocean worth of distance between them.

“That’s fine, I’ll be back later.”

Something fluffy was pushed onto his arms, and Damian realized it was the stuffed tiger. It smelled faintly of Richard.

“Try to get some rest, okay? Yell if you need something.”

He leaned in, pressed a kiss on his forehead and then left Damian stewing in pain and confusion.

Of course, Richard would not attempt anything while he was under the influence of drugs. Damian felt foolish for ever thinking otherwise, and a bit guilty too.

Richard returned at dawn with a damp towel and wiped the sweat off his brow and back with gentle motions. Damian’s head felt a bit clearer, but he did not manage to sleep at all.

The stuffed tiger had proved a poor replacement for Richard, even if it felt nice to squeeze it against his chest.

Damian needed more. He wanted to be squeezed against someone’s chest, he wanted the gentle hands on his hair, running down his back.

He groaned miserably. He failed to see the eroticism of this scene. What exactly did alphas find arousing about cramps and sweat and clinginess?

“Hungry?”

He shook his head. Anything he ate was bound to come back soon.

“Pain?”

“Ts better…”

Richard nodded enthusiastically. “Good, good. Is there anything you need?”

He needed this to be over yesterday, asides from that, the anticipation was not helping.

What if he just… did it. Rip it off like a band-aid, as Richard would put it.

Richard would not hurt him. And it would be better if it was on his own terms. He could bear it, and if he was lucky, the shitty inducers might just make him forget the whole thing once it was over.

They could go on as they had before, wouldn’t that be nice?

“Can you… stay?”

Richard’s eyes brightened.

Damian swallowed.

“Of course!”

He kicked off his slippers and carefully climbed on the nest. Damian tried to mentally prepare himself for Richard to loom over him, but he slipped behind him instead.

He frowned, confused. They were not even under the same layer of blankets.

Richard barely hesitated before pulling the sheets tighter around Damian and then bringing him closer. He had done this before in the couch once, when Damian had lowered his guard and ended up swaddled like a baby – much to his mortification. Like a burrito, Richard had retorted with a teasing smile.

It felt trapping- and unexpectedly nice.

He was wary of hands slipping where they should not, but Richard kept his firmly on his middle, arms wrapped around him.

“Are you comfortable?” He whispered in his hair. “I read omegas feel safe like this.”

He did, inexplicably, but he was not going to tell him.

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“Last time I did this was with Donna when we were kids- I don’t remember much of how that went.”

Damian’s frowned deepened. He had been under the impression that Troy was one of the only members of the Titans that had never dallied with Richard. She was his friend, more like a sister, he had said on occasion.

It seemed that even almost-siblings could fall victim to their instincts. How appalling, no wonder Grandfather thought so little of both alphas and omegas.

Though- It did not have to be a negative thing. If Richard merely insisted on ‘taking care’ of him during his heats and was happy to play house otherwise… Damian could work with that. He was more resilient than anyone would give him credit for, he might even get used to it.

Feeling oddly comforted, he turned around and buried his face in Richard’s chest. This time, he found sleep.

Heats, Damian decided on the third day, were boring.

Pennyworth had come at some point and left food for them. Damian never saw him, but his feelings were conveyed through his high-caloric, delicious meals.

Damian did not foresee that inviting Richard into his nest meant to be squeezed nearly to death and then have him fret like he would over his wounds. It was a familiar routine, an unexpected dynamic to rise on such occasion.

He knew that he reeked of Richard’s protective scent. He had practically been doused with it. He never got so much as a hint of spiciness from him though.

It was a rather lackluster experience. Other than the burning hell from the first night and the cramps that followed, it had been fine. Nothing to write home about.

“Your temperature’s almost back to normal,” Richard let him know cheerfully.

Damian sat with his legs crossed, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“So, it’s almost over.”

“Pretty much,” Richard nodded. “What do you think? Was it everything you expected, save for the… rough start?”

“No,” Damian told him honestly.

“It wasn’t…bad, was it?”

Damian was not sure of what he wanted him to say.

“It was fine,” he said. “It was- different.”

“The pamphlet did say they would get more intense with time. It’s supposed to be easier when you have someone with you.” Richard cleared his throat. “When you presented- You weren’t alone, were you?”

Damian’s eyes widened.

Was he suggesting-

“Of course I was!” His voice rose involuntarily, disgusted by the suggestion.

As if he would have let just any passing alpha from Nanda Parbat- And he was little more than a child too! Even by omegan terms, a first fever marked the passage into maturity, it did not indicate maturity.  

Richard’s hands raised disarmingly.

“That’s not- I don’t know how things are done in Nanda Parbat. But it’s not ideal. You shouldn’t have been alone.”

Damian wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.

“I would never shame myself like that.”

“There’s nothing shameful about needing others- “

-to take care of you, Damian finished in his head. Richard sure was obsessed with that.

For someone who claimed to trust Damian and his ability to protect himself, he did a poor job at disguising how little he thought of him when it came to matters pertaining to his secondary gender.

Frustration built up inside him, all the anxiety that he had been experiencing the last week ready to leave his body in a roar- but when he opened his lips all that came out was a sob. And to make matters worse, a burning sensation bloomed behind his eyes.

Before he knew it, Damian was weeping.

“Dami- “

His hands reached for him. Damian knew that if he allowed it, he would find himself engulfed in a warm embrace.

“Stay away from me!”

Richard recoiled.

“I don’t need you! Or your stupid care- I hate you! How could you do this! I trusted you!”

Words poured out in a rush, only half coherent.

Richard, as he would, fretted.

“Damian,” he spoke slowly, unable to hide the nervous tint in his voice “I shouldn’t have insisted. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He did not understand.

Damian hid his face as sobs shook his frame.

“I hate you,” he repeated.

It did not make him feel better.

Richard did not attempt to reach him again, nor did he leave the room. He sat still and stiff.

Tears proved to be exhausting. Damian felt the begging of a headache.

“Damian,” Richard said quietly, as if not to upset him.

“I hate this,” he spat. “I hate being an omega.”

Silence stretched between them.

“It’s not easy to feel out of control,” Richard spoke conciliatorily. “But believe me when I say it- It will get easier. And if you really hate it, you can go on suppressants as soon as you’re old enough for it.”

“…I’ll still have them.”

“For your health- “

“I don’t care!”

He did not understand. He could not. How could he?

“I don’t want to be with an alpha.”

“You don’t have to be! You can be with anyone you want, no matter the gender.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone at all!”

“That’s fine too!”

“It isn’t!”

Whatever had crossed his mind during heat was madness. He could not be like Donna Troy, he could not share something like this and go on like nothing. Not with Richard. Probably not with anyone.

“Dami, I don’t know what they taught you at the League but listen to me when I say this: you can do whatever you want, they can’t control you here.”

“I don’t understand. You- “

Richard looked earnest to help, which only made things more painful.

“You said you- you would take care of me.”

“And I did. Why? Did something make you uncomfortable?”

Damian blinked.

“…you didn’t.”

“What?”

“You just… held me.”

Richard nodded slowly. “I did. What do you think it means to take care of someone?”

“There were omegas in Nanda Parbat,” he said quietly. “Not many- They took care of alphas when they were in rut. And when they were in heat…”

Richard went gray. In any other occasion it would have been funny to see all color drain from the man’s face. Then, he turned faintly green.

Damian’s heart stuttered.

“Dami- What- What did you think was going to happen?”

It was the utterly sick look on his face that told Damian the truth; that he had been wrong all along.

Along freeing relief, shame flooded him.

Suddenly, he could barely meet his eyes. Damian hugged himself tighter.

“I didn’t think you’d hurt me. I know you wouldn’t, but maybe- “

Maybe, it lingered in the air, maybe you would.

“You’re a child.” Richard sounded horrified.

“I’m an omega.”

“God, Damian.”

He flinched.

“At the League, did someone- “

“No.”

Not for the first time, Damian found himself wondering if that’s why his mother had sent him away.

The smell of salt reached his nose, and it was his turn to be horrified, this time by Richard’s tears.

“I’m sorry,” he blabbed.

“God, no, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry. You were afraid that I was going to- God.”

This time, Damian reached for him.

‘My O-wsome Friend & Our O-wsome Nest’ read the cover of the pink book, below there was an illustrated picture of two children, presumably omegas, on top of a mess of blankets. ‘The Safest Place’ read the first page, the following illustration depicted the child with their friend under the covers.

There was a pile of books on his bedside, more than a bit childish for his taste, clearly meant for a younger audience. Damian still flipped through them. He could name every single part of his anatomy, but he was admittedly lacking on this sort of… literature. Nanda Parbat’s library had no volumes of the ‘O-wsome’ collection.

Richard brought them for him. Apparently, they came in a bag of omega goods he had purchased for him when they first moved into the penthouse. Richard never gave them to him, believing he had no need of them. They were meant for children who had recently presented or for those who showed signs of a possible omega presentation, because apparently such things existed.

Damian had not known that. There were a lot of things that he did not know.

Richard had been eager to explain every single aspect of the alpha-omega dynamic, but both were more than a bit shaken after Damian’s confession. They had passed out in the nest once they had exhausted their tears, with Damian clinging extra hard now that he knew it was safe to do so.

Richard had ended up offering the books, shyly, along with the number of every single omega hero he knew of. Damian accepted them, the books that is.

He was not going to find any great secrets of the universe in them, but they were a revelation to be sure- The world operated in ways he had been unaware of. Good ways.

It was not as easy as flipping a switch. You could not simply unlearn a lifetime of beliefs with some books and reassurances.

Fortunately, Damian was young. He had all the time in the world, and he was not alone.