Chapter Text
‘Everything happens for a reason’ the saying goes.
Tim likes to believe that’s the case. Though he can’t help but call bullshit when he gets into situations like the one he’s currently knee deep in.
It’s ?:?? o’clock on the ?th day of the ?th month of his sixteenth year and he sits staring at a blank wall in a dingy cell. What a life.
Since he and Pru were rescued abducted by the League of Assassins, he’s been sequestered in this tiny cell with no means of escape. Trust him, he’s checked.
He’s heard whisperings of murdered assassins and the Council of Spiders, but, for the most part, he’s been left in the dark.
They give him three square meals a day through the tiny slot in the thick metal door, but otherwise, they leave him be. It’s almost as if they don’t quite know what to do with him, especially with Batman being AWOL – not dead – and all.
It’s hard to tell, but he thinks it’s around the forty four day mark when he’s finally acknowledged by his captors. They’re not ones for courtesy and sophistication, though, and they don’t bother unshackling his legs as they drag him from his cell and up the hall.
He’s brought before the mighty Ra’s Al Ghul and he’s, frankly, unimpressed. The guy looks like some old coot you’d catch watching soft-core porn in the public library and Tim has to suppress a laugh at the image of him being thrown out by a disgruntled librarian.
Maybe he’s gone looney after going more than a month without interacting with another human being or seeing any kind of light, but he can’t seem to take anything seriously. He knows he hasn’t really lost it, but something about the situation is just so damn funny.
“Timothy Drake, you are amused,” Ra’s observes, his tone giving nothing away.
He has at least six quips locked and loaded, but Tim’s smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut – for the most part.
Ra’s frowns, clearly displeased, but continues.
“I apologize for your rough treatment over the last two months…”
Two months. Shit, that’s way longer than expected.
“...but it was necessary to sort out our arrangement, you see.”
It’s obvious the guy is being cryptic on purpose, but Tim doesn’t really have time to play these games. He’s wasted two months in this place. Two months that he’ll never get back. Two months that Bruce has spent wandering around in time while these other idiots think he’s dead.
“What arrangement? Cut to the chase,” he snaps, no longer amused.
“Now, now, let us practice patience, my pet,” Ra’s smirks, now very amused.
‘My pet’? What the hell?
“We have observed you very closely, Timothy. Though you hide your true nature quite well, we are the League of Assassins and very little goes unnoticed here.”
Tim can already tell where this conversation is headed, but he prays to any god who will listen that he’s wrong.
“It is rare to see such a skilled, capable Omega in your field…”
Fuck.
“Many are meek and timid, afraid to sully their dainty hands with combat. But you… you are different, my pet,” he grins, now looking more like a wicked predator than a pathetic old man.
There isn’t much he can do in this situation but deny.
“I don’t know where you get your information from, but I’m here to tell you it’s nonsense,” Tim snaps, doing everything in his power to remain cool.
It’s a messed up system, really.
Since the day he presented as an Omega, Tim has wondered why the hell humans need secondary genders when the primary genders get the job done just fine.
As a result, he’s been resigned to a lifetime of bullshit. From suppressants to heat cycles to involuntary physiological changes, Tim has been through hell. And, even better, he’d eagerly signed himself up for vigilantism, a field chock full of Alphas. Brilliant.
He’s not sure how they’ve seen through his layers and layers of suppressants and meds, but he has no choice but to bluff, banking on the fact that they have no way to prove their claims.
Just his luck that they very much have a way to prove the thorn that’s been wedged in his side since the age of ten.
“Your determination is admirable, Timothy,” Ra’s chuckles as he gestures to one of his goons who brings out a syringe topped with a long needle. “We shall see if your denial is proven correct.”
The needle doesn’t hurt much, he’s been through much worse, but what follows is nothing short of awful.
Instantly, his body lights aflame, his nerves tingling and borderline numb as he doubles over in something between pain and arousal.
Heat inducers. Of course.
He’s at the mercy of his body at this point and he knows there’s nothing he can do but succumb to desire. It’s purely biological and it pisses him off to no end.
Ra’s laughs triumphantly as he watches Tim crumple to the floor and breathe out weak gasps.
“Wonderful!” he bellows gleefully. “This is magnificent!”
Tim doesn’t know what the hell he’s so happy about. Tim Drake, former Robin-current Red Robin, is an Omega. Whoopty-doo.
His confusion lasts for all of ten seconds, though, with Ra’s dropping an atom bomb on him with his next sentence.
“You will make a perfect mother for my grandson,” Ra’s grins.
…I beg your pardon?
At sixteen, Tim’s been doing this for more than half a decade, but never has he heard a string of words so ludicrous that it causes his brain to legitimately malfunction. It also doesn’t help that his body is solely focused on seeking pleasure at the moment.
He must be expressing his absolute bewilderment on his face because Ra’s smoothly follows with an explanation disguised as another bomb.
“You see, my grandson was born from a unique situation wherein both of his parents, my daughter Talia and Batman, are Alphas…”
I beg your pardon???
At this point, Tim is convinced he’s dreaming or, more fittingly, nightmare-ing. As analytical and levelheaded as he is, he is left speechless by the back to back to back nukes of information being dropped on him.
Ignoring Tim’s clear upheaval, Ra’s continues, “As a result, his mother has had… difficulties. She is an Alpha, unable to provide for him in the way an Omega, such as yourself, can. Therefore, you, Timothy, will provide him his required care, support, and nutrients.”
Tim lowers his head, now in complete disarray, both mentally and physically.
“Are you alright, my pet?” His voice is annoyingly smug.
Tim’s gut is twisted to the point where it’s painful and his brain has just been blown to bits by Ra’s so he’s not entirely in the position to ‘be alright’.
“It has taken me many moons to discover a capable, strong, intelligent Omega and I will not let you go, Timothy Drake.”
With that, he waves his hand and Tim is taken away, thrown in a fancy-looking room this time instead of a dingy cell. It’s equally suffocating, though.
He strips immediately, not giving a damn whether or not they’re watching. He needs relief and he needs it now.
He’s pitifully wet when he reaches down and slides one finger into his pussy, gasping softly at the sensation.
Embarrassment fights to be felt, but desire wins out and soon he’s shoving three fingers in while tugging on his leaking cocklet as his loud moans echo around the room.
It feels good, annoyingly so, but it’s not enough. That’s always been his problem, and a big reason why he’s relied so heavily on heat suppressants for six years now.
His heat cycles are hell and it’s damn near impossible for him to get through them alone. Nothing he does is enough to satisfy his irritatingly greedy body and he’s been left with no choice but to suffer.
The idea of having an Alpha help him through it has always lingered in the back of his mind, but that’s all it’s ever been: an idea. And so long as Tim can help it, that’s all it’ll ever be.
It’s already pathetic enough that he can’t control his body, and it’d just add insult to injury to be ‘helped’ by an Alpha in such a vulnerable state.
While he’s normally all for his righteous self-imposed policy, it’s really hard to not crave the touch of an Alpha like he’s been programmed to do when he’s four fingers deep and not even close to sniffing his first orgasm.
“Fuck!” he curses, desperate and frustrated.
As he tugs harder on his aching cocklet, the heavy door to his room-slash-cell opens and in walks a tall woman with tanned skin and long chestnut hair.
She’s pretty and elegant but stern, and within three seconds of seeing her, Tim knows who she is.
“Your… dad’s an… asshole,” he grits out as he continues to serve his needy body.
“I am aware,” she says calmly as she takes a seat on the small stool beside the bed.
For a while, she simply sits there, watching as he struggles to find release. It’d be creepy if she didn’t look so serious and calculating. It’s clear she’s taking this whole motherhood thing seriously.
Normally, Tim would be looking for any way to bust out, but he’s in no shape to even consider escape.
Finally, Talia stands to leave, not sparing him a single word as she saunters through the door.
A few seconds after she leaves, a masked man, likely a low ranking member of the League, enters and sets a box atop the bed before quickly turning tail.
Tim doesn’t know if this is Talia’s way of telling him that he’s passed her test or something, but he can’t find it within himself to care as he stretches himself open on the smallest of the set of five dildos in the box – though it may be more accurate to say the ‘first’ of the five instead of ‘smallest’ considering it isn’t small, at all.
After nearly ninety minutes of suffering, Tim finally reaches bliss, moaning at the release of tension in his abdomen as he comes, the bed now sopping wet with his slick.
His moment of peace lasts for a generous two minutes before his senses are kicking into high gear again and the cycle repeats.
Three days later, he’s fully ready to rip Ra’s Al Ghul’s head off for putting him through heat just to prove a point.
He’s exhausted, completely beat as he’s tended to by League staff members. They bathe him and re-bandage his injuries with care, treating him as if he were royalty instead of a sixteen-year-old kid doomed to parent a random child simply by virtue of his secondary gender.
Despite showing excitement at finding their ‘perfect Omega’, Ra’s and Talia don’t seem to be in a hurry to have Tim meet the child they plan to have him care for. It’s a bit weird and he’s seemingly back to square one, just with a comfier bed and a better decorated cell this time.
He spends all of his time strategizing but, like with his previous cell, they have him sealed up tight. He can only hope Dick found and, more importantly, took the time to read the haphazard files he’d transmitted to the BatComputer just before he and Pru were ambushed in that desert.
He’s honestly surprised to see how composed he is. He’s never been one to panic, but any way he looks at it, his situation is hopeless, so he had expected to at least be a bit more stressed out, but he’s shockingly calm. Kudos to Batman’s training, perhaps.
On his seventh day of post-heat captivity, he finally meets the child they call Damian.
They lead him to a room on the other side of the gigantic lair and push him into a lavish looking bedroom with no explanation, leaving him to face the scowling three year old alone.
Tim doesn’t dislike kids, not in any way, but he’s never been great with them like Bruce or Dick are, so he’s at a loss.
Hesitantly, he shuffles over to the bed and takes a seat, sitting stiffly on the edge as the child stares holes into him.
Suddenly, the kid’s scowl softens, and he very slowly approaches, drawn to him by something. By the ten minute mark, Damian is in Tim’s lap and hugging him around the middle. The two of them have yet to exchange a single word, but Damian is already attached.
Weirdly, Tim also feels attached as he’s ambushed by profound maternal instincts that have never once appeared in his carefully curated list of feelings and emotions.
The kid is cute and sweet and nothing like his stern mother and grandfather. Just a boy who was born into violence who should be, needs to be protected. Tim silently hugs him back, unsure what to make of these foreign feelings and the tingly sensation in his stomach.
He’s not sure how long they sit there, but Damian is fast asleep when Talia re-enters the room.
Again, she takes a seat beside the bed, this time on a fancier-looking chair, and regards Tim with a blank stare.
“My son is crucial to the success of the League. You will care for him with grace and humility. You will nourish him with your bosom and teach him the love of an Omega.”
‘I must be insane,’ Tim thinks as he nods numbly.
“Good. We will begin tomorrow.”
She leaves just as fast as she came and Tim lies on his back, gently patting Damian’s back as he dozes on his chest. Soon, he, too, is drifting off, feeling oddly light as he cradles the child in his arms.
His peaceful slumber is interrupted at the crack of dawn when two League members shake him awake. Damian is nowhere to be found and Tim is quickly led back to his cell, again with no explanation. They toss him on the bed and stick him with a miscellaneous needle before hurrying out of the room.
Talia arrives just as the drugs kick in and he can’t lift a finger or even utter a word of protest as she strips him and begins to feel up his flat chest, her expression remaining neutral as she methodically fondles him.
After a short examination, she calls out something Tim can’t quite make out and the door opens to reveal a large masked man.
“You will now mate with this Alpha,” Talia explains matter-of-factly.
It’s insane and Tim tries and fails to object, his body betraying him every step of the way.
“After an extended period of consuming suppressants, many of your Omega traits have remained dormant. You will mate with an Alpha to awaken these traits. Your breasts must be fuller to adequately nourish Damian and your scent sweeter to bring him comfort.”
As she rattles off other traits that he has neglected, Tim turns his attention to the man standing at the foot of the bed. He’s built and muscular with visibly rough hands and scars across his body.
Something about him is familiar, but the way he stands and his demeanor as a whole tells Tim that the man isn’t entirely in control of himself. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s drugged or under a spell of some sort, making him just as much of a victim as Tim.
While he’s busy observing the Alpha to pinpoint the source of familiarity, Talia quickly and efficiently jabs them with a series of needles.
Once again, fire engulfs his body and his mind goes hazy, his heat triggered near instantly.
It isn’t until the man begins to take labored breaths that it truly dawns on Tim how bad of a situation he’s in. His eyes follow Talia as she leaves the room while the Alpha mounts him, his hands rough on his sensitive skin.
It’s his first time having sex with an Alpha and he’s going to be mated – quite possibly the worst case scenario of all worst case scenarios.