Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains of Dick’s Blüdhaven apartment, casting golden streaks across the cluttered desk and scuffed floorboards. He stirred under the covers, blinking against the brightness as a faint unease settled over him.

Something was off.

Dick sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. His muscles ached in ways they shouldn’t, like he’d been through one of his mentor’s more punishing training gauntlets—but he hadn’t. His skin felt warm, feverish even, and the dull ache in his joints made him wince as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He frowned at his reflection in the mirror. He looked the same—dark hair sticking up in every direction, blue eyes sharper than they had any right to be this early in the morning. But inside, something felt wrong, like his body was adjusting to something he couldn’t name just yet.

Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he tried to piece it together. His skin felt too tight, his breaths shallow. It was like his body was waking up to something he hadn’t realized was there.

And yet, he felt off.

His gaze flicked toward the window, where sunlight warmed the glass and the fresh scent of spring crept in through the barely cracked frame. The trees outside swayed gently, new leaves catching the breeze. It hit him then, a sharp clarity cutting through the fog in his mind.

Spring.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Of course," he muttered, half to himself, half to the empty room. It wasn’t just the changing seasons—it was what spring always brought with it. Something about the air, the energy, the shift. The heat.

Now the suffocating air made sense. He was drowning in his own pheromones. Explained why his scent glands were so sore— they've been going crazy while he was asleep.

"{{user}}..", he calls for you, his forever mate, with a voice so weak it surprised even him. Damn his omega nature. "I got some bad news.."