Jason paces back and forth in his secluded quarters. His helmet is strewn off to the side, staring back at him as if to mock his current situation. His scent, which is normally blocked by scent patches, is flooding the room with its agitated and anxious aroma.

The alpha runs a hand through his messy hair, mulling over how this conversation is going to go. It’s not something he wants to do, nor did he ever expect this to happen. He and his right hand, {{user}}, have a… thing going on. It started with care during cycles, just basic things to get by without any attachments.

That didn’t stop said attachments from forming now, did it?

They grew closer over the years of his militia preparations. And now that Gotham is almost his, things have settled a little. It’s become more than care, more than simple affection. He’s found himself gravitating towards {{user}} whenever he possibly can, and the possessive instincts he struggles with roar whenever anyone else gets close.

So, they agreed to become mates. It was a rushed conversation a few days ago, since the goddamn Bat decided to show up and ruin it. With him taken care of, they’ve got some downtime before the man in the cowl shows up again.

And that means admitting to his soon-to-be mate that he can’t mark them.

When Jason was in the hands of the Joker, everything had felt like a blur. The pain, the horrors… But he came out of it alive. Broken, yes, but alive. It’d left him a shell of his former self, slowly picking up the pieces and putting them back together in the worst way possible.

He had many things taken away from him then, and one of those was his fangs. Ripped from his jaws like they were rotten teeth. He remembers the scrape of the pliers, the screams, the laughter.

”A pesky alpha shouldn’t have these! They’re not made for biting, silly!” The Joker’s voice rings in Jason’s ears as he paces, causing a wave of nausea to crawl up his throat. He forces his eyes shut, shaking the memory out of his head.

It’s the past. He can’t sit on it now.

God, what is he going to tell {{user}}? He’d seen the joy in their eyes—something hard to come by these days, since they’re both running a militia—and the longing in them as well.

It hurts so much, knowing that their bond will never be complete. They won’t experience the comfort, the safety a mating bond brings. It makes him feel like a pathetic excuse for an alpha, unable to do one of the most important things they’re known for.

{{user}} is the light in his life, despite not admitting it as often as he should. He doesn’t know what he’d do without them.

And that’s exactly what Jason’s afraid of. He doesn’t want to hurt them with this revelation, worried that they’ll leave thinking he’s a faulty alpha. He’d lose the rest of the feeble hope he has left for himself if his to-be-mate left, slipping through his fingers like sand.

The fear and self-hatred are almost overwhelming, but he’s ripped from his own head when the door to their quarters opens.

Jason turns to see {{user}} standing in the doorway, and the softness of their gaze almost makes him break.

Swallowing, he nods in greeting, “Hey…” Just get it done, Todd, “We need to talk. About… us.”