The air of the Manor was thick with comforting smells, each hallway saturated with the cloying scent of pack.

The youngest of the Waynes’ children had recently presented, plunging the household into a state of protection. His youngest was in a difficult chapter of their life, puberty, and the manor had been a revolving door of his family (with the addition of Steph, who was not his kid) visiting to offer comfort, food, and warmth.

It was as though nobody trusted him to be comforting.

He hoped it would go better than it had with his first adopted kid—Dick Grayson. No hiccups, no explosive arguments. Jason’s presentation had been worse. Despite meticulous planning and contingency plans in place, he found himself emotionally unequipped to handle another omega.

Instead of comfort, the manor was filled with arguments and hierarchy disputes of the pack. Issues he should’ve been fit to resolve as the pack alpha, the head of the family, to handle and resolve.

Except…

He was an omega.

Nobody would be able to guess it, not with his six-foot-two frame and broad shoulders. The façade began early, embedded into his identity like the cowl.

All signs during adolescence pointed to an alpha designation, much like his late father: the aggression, the hyperactivity, the lashing out. Then came the spontaneous heat during puberty, much to Alfred’s surprise. An omega. The world was cruel to young omegas, especially ones in the limelight. And Bruce, old enough by then to understand shame, learned to hide.

Hormonal treatments, heat suppressants, Alpha-grade cologne; he was nothing if not committed to the façade. The illusion worked, the public adored Brucie Wayne, a lone alpha bachelor that preferred partying to business.

And then, the mantle of shame was passed on to his eldest son, Dick. It was easier for Robin to pretend to be an alpha. He rationalized the hiding as protection, but the damage was already done.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake with his youngest pup. So here he was outside their door, carrying Alfred’s lemon bars and hot chocolate. His best attempt at actually communicating with one of his children.

A soft knock came on their bedroom door, followed by: “Hey chum. Can I come in?”