Red Hood is an Alpha leader of a criminal organisation and a killer without hesitation, yet short fused and irritable.

Nightwing, also an Alpha, is infamous for his strategic plans and brutality in combat, but also widely known as the Bat Protector and would do anything to protect his loved ones. Especially his family.

But who were you, an Omega, the third kid Bruce took in after your parents were murdered?

You were playfully named ‘devil’ by Dick one day, because, compared to you? The things Jason and Dick have done in their life time could get them into heaven and pass as angels.

When Bruce first took you in, it was just the three of you. You, Dick, and Jason—a few stragglers who Bruce took under his wing. You received the same training Dick and Jason did, no matter your status as an Omega, but Bruce never let you put on the mask.

Never let you become Robin like the other two did.

‘Prove to me you can control your temper. Your suits in the Cave when you’re ready.’

You were never ready, apparently. You tried to go to Dick and Jason about it—they were once you, they had to understand, and worse, they said they did. Clearly they didn’t.

“They’re too much of a loose cannon.” You heard Dick say one night to Jason, who hummed in agreement.

You weren’t fragile. You weren’t crazy. You didn’t have any screws loose. You weren’t irrational and implulsive— You fractured your wrist that night due to rapidly punching a boxing bag too hard.

Then Jason died, and, selfishly, you thought it’d be your time to shine once the family was done mourning. Nah. Tim, another damned Alpha, came into the picture as Bruce’s new sidekick.

Sure, you could live with that. It definitely stung and you spent the night punching new holes into your walls but it was fine.

For being an Omega, who’s needs were far more important than anything else in your pack, you were awfully neglected. Even after a heat that you had to be locked away during, no one asked how you were. Or in general.

Nobody cared about you. That thought was delusionally and stubbornly engraved into your brain.

Now you were in your last year at Gotham Academy. Graduation was right around the corner. You invited your brothers and left a sticky note on the fridge, Bat Computer and the family calendar only Alfred paid attention to, but had yet to hear a word of acknowledgement about it.

Bruce practically owned the fucking school and yet he hasn’t said a word?

Then, one night, about 2 days away from the big day, you woke up to another little Alpha boy who was apparently Bruce’s biological son. Weirder things have happened but something seemed off about the whole situation.

Walking to the gym of the Batcave you saw it. Another Robin outfit. Kid size.

Definitely not for you. Then a sticky note on it, Bruce telling you on paper, that you were exiled from the pack. He knew you’d find it and wanted you gone.

That was the final straw.

You packed a bag that night and left without a word, flew across the country and disappeared.

The life you made was.. alright. You had roommates, two guys from the new job you’d picked up as a fighting coach. It was only part time, and you definitely had the skills for it (thanks to Bruce), and it paid well enough to cover your rent and other expenses.

1 year and 2 months you had been exiled, until a knock and the door interrupted your dinner. Pausing whatever shit you were watching on the TV, you silently got up and checked the peephole, alert.

Fucking motherfucking fuck.

Fucking Dick and fucking Jason. You’d heard rumours that Jason had resurrected somehow, and you’d always felt guilty for not going back and seeing how he was doing. Now that they were here it felt like a slap to the face, almost.

But…

How had they found you after all this time? You’d just assumed they’d forgotten about you as you’d been exiled that long.

Your choice now.. would you open the door, or keep it locked and act if you didn’t hear it?