Chapter Text
Tim got off the horse in front of the familial door and sneakily looked around. No one followed him despite his worries, so he breathed the quiet sigh of relief and quickly climbed the stairs. On top, he had to stop for a moment however and take a deep breath. Counting mentally to twenty he exhaled and knocked. Honestly, the chances of him getting an answer were pretty grim, even if their lookers didn’t spot Birds moving out of town or relocating their headquarters. Tim knew perfectly well that Birds didn’t stay a mystery for so long lacking stealth. So he can only rely on his luck and stars aligning somewhere above in his favor.
After several long seconds, the door opened and Tim held his breath. His heart was beating rabid fast in his chest, as he looked at a woman in front of him. She was in her thirties, and he couldn’t identify her second gender. Not lean and delicate as an omega, not too posturing to be an alpha but too rememberable to be a beta. Her hair was cut short, military stile, and Tim gulped as she looked down at him.
“Um…Hello?” he gave woman an awkward wave, and she nodded in response moving to the side and inviting him in. Still without a word. “Oh, okay.” Confused, Tim moved inside into the familial darkness of abandoned shop. The woman pocked her head outside, looking around the empty street and only then shut the door and turned to Tim.
“Are you okay? Did anyone followed you here?” Were her first words and Tim froze in place openmouthed.
“Um…no?”
The woman raised an eyebrow.
“Are you asking me that?” She asked somewhat amused. Tim felt mortified.
“No.” He stated and woman nodded and waved him to follow her deeper into the building down the same rout he took several days prior.
‘Well, that’s good. You still need help though, don’t you?” The woman turned briefly to look at him over her shoulder, and Tim opened his mouth to deny that, he didn’t need help, not exactly, but woman had already turned back around and continued. “Don’t worry, whatever your problem is, Birds will make sure to regulate it.” Turning over once more, she winked at him, something dangerous in her smile. “Legally or not legally. Whatever you prefer.”
Tim silently nodded. So Deathstroke wasn’t tugging along with Birds only for protection. Looks like his duties were more in line with public service than he thought. Good to know.
The woman led him into the familiar backroom, now empty, and gestured to the couch.
“Place yourself, I will go fetch Nightingale.” She was moving out of the room when Tim called after her, confused, “Nightingale?”
She turned around at the threshold and smiled at him.
“The leader of the Birds.”
Tim, confusedly, settled down. Wasn’t Birdwatcher the leader though? Maybe they share responsibilities. It will be logical. Managing such enormous organization as Birds by oneself should be impossible. Maybe, though, Tim would have managed. Maybe. Not that he will get a chance to ever find out, gods, he will never even rule a country, which was a shame really, he was a damn good ruler. So was Jason, and Damien will be one day, and so was... the crown prince. The only true ruler out of all Bruce’s sons, except, maybe Damien as he was the blood one. The one, who was taught and trained and raised to inherit. Tim or Jason could never stand to him and his shadow.
To distract himself from bitter thoughts, Tim looked around the familiar room. Last time he wasn’t able to get the whole view of it, distracted by others, but now there was no one except from him, so Tim looked. The array of familiar colorful blankets was neatly folded in the further corner of the room atop of the dark metallic chest. At the far wall across from Tim stood the wood closet with dark glass doors. He couldn’t see what was inside. Further to the left, on the same side the door to the shop was, stood the other one, leading further into the house and from which Deathstroke came last time. On the opposite side was a window and outside lay a small garden. The view however was obstructed by trees, their placement felt purposeful as from his position Tim could see nothing, only a spot of grass and flowers. No road that supposedly led to other entryway to the house, no fence or people.
Tim was ready to get up and investigate further as he heard the steps coming from inside the house. So he kept seated and turned to the door, as it swung open.
“Hi! Sorry for making you…Tim?” The familiar omega on the threshold faltered, mouth agape in shock, before Birdwatcher shook himself and asked, “Is everything alright? Do you need help? Did something happen?”
He was ready to bounce back inside and supposedly call someone (Tim’s bet was on Deathstroke), so Tim hurried to shake his head.
“It’s nothing like that. I came to meet you personally.”
Birdwatcher closed his mouth and fully stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself. Only now Tim noticed that under the robe he wore nothing other than bright silky sleeping gown, laces of which were tied messily, clearly in a hurry and did little to conceal some red marks. Bite marks.
Tim blushed and averted his gaze.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s nothing of importance.
When he dared to look at Birdwatcher, man seemed confused.
“You didn’t interrupt anything?” He said moving to sit opposite Tim in the armchair, still confused. Tim pointedly glanced at his covered but still visible chest. Omega followed his gaze and realization dawned at him.
“Oh,” was all he said, pulling the robe closed. “My apologies.”
Tim waved his hand. “Its fine.” Omega nodded and didn’t continue on the topic. He crossed his legs, looking at Tim with intent.
“So, what brings you here, your Highness?”
Tim run a tongue over his teeth.
“I wanted… I wanted to ask for a favor.”
Birdwatcher raised an eyebrow.
“Prince, maybe you had forgotten already, but Birds do not take payments for their help. If it something we can do for an omega we do it. So you don’t need to ask for a favor. You just need to ask.”
Tim shook his head.
“I’m not here to ask the Birds. I’m here to ask you precisely.”
The eyebrow rose even higher.
“Okay…” Birdwatcher mulled over words and then huffed. “It’s not every day that someone comes to me asking for a favor, so spit it out.”
Tim drew in a large breath and lost it with his next words.
“Canispendaheatwithyou?”
The eyebrow hit a hairline.
“What?”
“Can I spend my heat with you?”
Birdwatcher blinked at Tim.
“So I heard that right.” Tim nodded and omega scrunched his eyebrows together. “Why?”
Tim drew in another breath. He had gone over his reasoning countless times, over and over until it sounded convincing even to his ears.
What he said however was exactly the opposite.
“I can pay.”
The omega’s face fell the same instance.
“What?” he asked quietly, and Tim tripped over himself mentally. Fuck. Fuck.
“Uh…um…that’s not…sorry…I didn’t mean…”
Omega got up and Tim felt dread sliding down his spine. That’s it. He is going to throw him out and Tim will never be able to have another chance at this. His breathing picked up.
“I’m sorry,” he tried to get up too, but his legs buckled and Tim fell back onto the couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please!”
Warm hands caught his shoulder in strong but gentle grip and Tim rose his head to meet deep blue eyes.
“Hey, Tim, breathe, just breathe, it’s alright.”
“I didn’t mean, I swear, I didn’t mean…”
‘Shh, I know, it’s alright, just breathe.”
The calming omega scent tickled Tim’s nose and he found himself relaxing despite everything. Drawing in a large breath, he muttered, “You are not leaving?”
Omega in front of him shook his head.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Tim went limp, tucking himself into other omega.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered into the fabric of the robe. “I’m sorry.”
Two strong hands gripped him tightly, and quiet purr rumbled across the room. For a moment Tim didn’t even register that it was his own. Omega above him chuckled.
“That’s it, little bird, don’t worry.” And Tim couldn’t worry, not when strong warm hands were holding him and smothering with ‘safe, protected, mine’. He didn’t really know where the last idea came from but he wasn’t opposed in the slightest.
The thing is, Tim was the only omega in the royal family. Bruce still hasn’t married anyone, so the role of pack omega was vacant. Tim’s own parents weren’t good teachers in any regard and hired omegas of the palace could do only that much. Tim hadn’t had guidance all his omega life. He craved having a pack omega, he craved having someone in his nest during his heats. And maybe this time there will be someone.
“I want you to spend my heat with me.” Tim untangled himself from Birdwatchers arms and looked at the omega. “I have no one to spend it with.”
Omega squinted at him.
“And why me?”
“You will keep me safe.” Came curt but truthful answer. Birdwatcher squinted harder.
“You know that I can’t go to the palace?” He asked, and Tim froze with open mouth. You see, he never planned this far, ready for rejection or at least several rounds of arguing.
“So…” he sputtered. “You are not against?”
Birdwatcher raised an eyebrow at him.
“I do that half the time for terrified and freshly rescued omegas. The reasoning is usually more grim than yours, but I’m pretty used to accompanying someone during their heats.
Tim’s mouth shut with an audible click.
“Oh… So, the palace?”
Birdwatcher shook his head.
“I won’t go there. But you can come here for your heat if you want. We have quite the comfortable nest here.”
Tim looked at the omega incredulously. And partly hopeful.
“Really?”
Birdwatcher smiled and nodded.
“Really.”
***
This was the second time Tim went to Nightingales. The third one was a week later.
“So,” Tim looked over the comfortable bed, bare of other scents and with fresh beddings. “Are you sure?” he eyed Nightingale, whom previously knew as Birdwatcher and the man hummed, rummaging through several chests and pulling out nesting materials.
“Sure, go for it,” he answered not raising his head, and Tim swallowed. He looked at the bed.
“Are you sure?”
Nightingale straightened, concern written all over his face and strode over to Tim.
“What’s wrong?” he asked looking the bed over and then turning to Tim who swallowed past the lump in his throat.
“I…” he started only to whine miserably as a cramp hit him full force.
“Okay,” Nightingale pushed him gently towards the bed and Tim fell in it like doll. “I will take care of everything just relax.”
And he did. Tim lay on huge bed doing absolutely nothing all while Nightingale fussed above him, building a huge comfy nest. The most comfortable nest Tim had ever seen in his life. The pillows and blankets, bare from scents, were arranged perfectly, exactly as Tim didn’t know he wanted them.
When the last pillow was tucked into place, Tim nuzzled it and rose to look at Nightingale. The omega for whatever reason wasn’t rushing to join him in their perfect nest. So Tim whined and made a grabby hands at him, urging omega to get inside already.
Omega huffed but obliged crawling into the nest and nuzzling Tim’s head. Tim purred. Omega however didn’t reciprocate his purr and Tim whined again. He got nuzzled in response and covered in thick ‘shhh-sorry-relax-imhere’, which wasn’t an expected purr but did it job in soothing Tim’s turmoil of being a nuisance. He nuzzled back, tucking himself further into omegas embrace. It was heavenly. When he only got the idea to ask Birdwatcher, sorry, Nightingale, to spend his heat together he expected some cuddling, sure, but distance too. After all, they weren’t related to each other. Heavens and Underworlds, they weren’t even properly acquainted, having met only twice before Tim’s heat. So yeah, this level of closeness, of protection Nightingale radiated, was welcome but absolutely unexpected. So Tim basked in it while he can.
Drifting off to sleep he thought that maybe, if the first prince was still alive, his embrace would have felt exactly as Nightingales.
***
The fourth time Tim met Nightingale was totally unexpected. You see, the first month of spring was a month of festivals and royal family, always busy as a principal, was buried under papers and management issues. Tim just hadn’t got time to visit the omega after his shared heat. (He got an earful for it from Bruce and got locked in the castle for a week, which wasn’t an issue as every prince knew perfectly well how to get out of the stiffing walls). So yeah, all in all, Tim was busy. And tired. And just a bit snappy, which was a deciding point for king to send him out into the town. To relax. And control.
Tim went. He didn’t expect to run into familiar hulking figure of the renewed mercenary.
Tim, quite accurate it will be to say, barreled into the alpha, his guards to slow to prevent that.
(Was it anyone with malicious intentions and Tim would have been dead twice over)
Deathstroke the Terminator caught the tripping omega and not so gently positioned him back upright.
“Watch where you go, kid,” rumbled the alpha not even looking at the omega in front of him. At the very royal and very precious omega, whom he couldn’t speak in the such disrespectful way.
Tim hadn’t mind, knowing perfectly well who is in front of him. His guards however…
“Hey!” Shouted the youngest of his escort. “This is his royal highness, you bastard! Lower to your knees and apologize!”
Tim swallowed, watching the alpha halt his stride and slowly turn around.
“His highness had you said?”
Tim gone pale, while his guard, oblivious to the man in front of him and the danger this man posed, puffed up with pride.
“Yes!” They were making a scene and attracting too much attention. Tim swallowed hard. Deathstroke will have them sooooo dead. “His highness the Third prince Timothy Wayne!”
The small crowd around them made a collective gasp.
Alpha slowly dragged his eyes from the knight to Tim.
Tim failed to swallow past his dried throat. The only eye of the alpha shined with danger and slight deadly amusement.
“Should I apologize properly then? Oh, for showing such disrespect?”
Tom opened his mouth to retort, to say that it isn’t needed, but the young stupid knight beat him to it.
“Yes you shall.” Others nodded in agreement, and faintly Tim thought that after this he would need other, more smarter knights.
The mercenary stalked forward – and no one thought to stop him, - before stopping several paces from Tim and slowly getting on his knee.
“Apologies, your highness.” He looked genuine and Tim swallowed finally. Was this it? Just it?
No. Deathstroke was never going to forget assault.
Just the moment Tim dared to let out a relieved breath and open his mouth to accept the apology, alpha raised his head and looked at him. Then smirked.
What happened next was a blur of motion, shouts and fear. Between one blink and next Tim’s guards were on the ground moaning in pain or unconscious and Tim was drugged somewhere by the alpha, the most famous mercenary in the known world. And he had no say in the matter.
Fast they left the street where the kidnapping happened and moved several alleys further before Alpha lowered Tim on the ground.
“Now,” he growled, and Tim hunched in on himself. He had no illusions that he can take him one on one. Any alpha but not Deathstroke, he wasn’t that good of a fighter. So he needed to shut up and listen. Alpha huffed annoyed. “Relax kid, I’m not going to torture or kill you. Not if you will follow good and quiet, understood?”
Tim nodded, keeping his lips shut. Maybe he could escape wherever the mercenary will bring him. He just needs to wait.
The alpha nodded.
“Good.” He turned around and walked to the end of the alley. Tim contemplated his chances to escape and followed suit. His best bet was to wait until Deathstroke leaves him alone so then he could run.
Quietly like this, they walked several dozen of minutes before Deathstroke stopped in front of strangely familiar house and fumbled with keys and the door, pushing Tim inside. The house was faintly recognizable. Tim moved forward on his free will, as alpha shut the door behind them both.
“Slade?” Came greatly familiar voice from inside the house and Tim relaxed instantly.
Alpha spared him a quick glance before walking forward and disappearing into the rooms. Tim hurried in his steps and soon enough came face to face with Nightingale.
“Oh,” said both of them at the same time.
“Are you hurt?” Asked the omega, turning Tim from side to side and looking him over. After quick examination, he turned to his not-so-mate. “Slade, what a fuck?”
The mercenary, who now stood near the kitchen counter and was observing them with passive eyes, shrugged.
Nightingale huffed, annoyed, and pulled Tim further into the room.
“I was making dinner,” he said looking slightly apologetic. “Do you want some?”
Tim looked at the counter, then at the alpha, who appeared to be disinterested, and then back at the omega.
“Yes,” he said, relaxing fully. “I will be grateful.”
Nightingale beamed at him. Then he remembered something. Turned to Slade and in no gentle terms kicked him out of the house with shouted ‘go and by those onions, damn it!’ Tim snickered at the disgruntled look alpha spotted. Looks like even the best mercenaries do grocery shopping for their omegas.
Rolling up his sleeves, Tim came to the counter.
“How can I help?”
This was a nice distraction from taxes and politics after all. And Tim got to enjoy it fully, even if the earful he got after made him understand first princes reckless decision much-much better.
***
The last meeting too wasn’t planed. Not fully at least. It was planned by Tim and only by him. Hours of overthinking, hours of contemplating and dealing with the formalities of something so unusual and bold. Hours of convincing Bruce.
For what it was worth, Tim succeeded, so here he stood in front of the Nightingale’s Song, clutching the invitation to the royal Ball in his pocket.
Firming himself, Tim climbed the short stairs and knocked. For several long moments (during which Tim’s anxiety spiked up) there was no answer. Finally, the door creaked open, and in front of Tim stood the familiar woman, whom he came to knew as Angelica, one of Deathstroke’s trusted comrades. She looked him up and down, then heaved a tired sigh and mumbled, “Here comes the other one”, before moving aside.
“Come in little prince,” she said. “Hope you know the way.”
Tim nodded, walking into the house. Sure he knew his way around already, hard not to after all the time he spent here, so he walked past Angelica not waiting for her and moved to the reception room. Which was… occupied.
Tim halted on the threshold, stumbling over his feet at the sight of very familiar head. Very-very familiar. As in ‘my big brother Jason’ familiar.
“What are you doing here?” Tim incredulously shouted and all the people in the room whirled around to look at him.
You see, Jason shouldn’t be at Nightingale’s today. Hell, he probably shouldn’t even be in the city, running, by his own words, some errands with Outlaws. That’s why Tim chose exactly today to visit Nightingale. And now imagine his outrage at the sight of his brother in loosely tied shirt and grey trousers sipping tea on the couch. Like what the ever living hell!
“Timmy!” Nightingale was the first one to brake the tense silence. He put down his streaming cup and got up, walking straight to Tim and enveloping him in a hug.
Tim, embarrassing himself as usual, melted into it instantly.
“Hi,” he muttered into elders omega shoulder, gripping him back tight.
Nightingale cooed at him (something he started doing right after Tim’s heat), and broke the hug to usher omega into the other vacant armchair. Right near Jason.
Right. Jason.
Taking a seat Tim hissed at his older brother.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Outlaws?”
Jason, to his saving grace, looked slightly sheepish.
“And what are you doing here? Wasn’t you grounded?”
They both stared at each other defiantly, while Nightingale sipped his tea in amusement.
“I have business here,” Tim finally answered, and Jason’s eyebrow joined his hairline.
“Business?” He snorted. “And what business do you have with the famous mercenary and revolutionary leader?”
Tim squinted at him. So they are playing dirty, huh. Well he can do that.
“Yes?” he sing-songed. “And what brings the leader of royal guards to the same renewed mercenaries and revolutionary leader’s house, making him drink tea and enjoy their company?”
Jason blushed. Soon enough however his embarrassment turned to anger.
“Yeah, and what brings a royal prince…” he never got to finish his next acquisition however, as a low growl reverberated through the room, making Jason snap his jaw shut and Tim to hunch on himself out of pure instincts.
They both turned to Deathstroke the Terminator who was seating on the couch opposite them. Alpha had one hand slung over Nightingale’s shoulders. Omega didn’t even flinch at the low angry grown his alpha emitted. He looked completely at ease, as he put down his cup.
“Thanks Slade.” He smiled at his not-mate, and looked at two princes. “It is quite amusing watch you two squabble but I don’t think it is needed.” Nightingale smirked. “Looks like both of you were making excuses to enjoy my humble company. I’m flattered.”
Tim felt his face heat up and saw from the corner of his eye Jason going red too.
Well, guilty and caught red handed.
Nightingale took his cup once more and gestured to Jason.
“Let’s get you both explaining why are you here and cease this meaningless conflict altogether. Jay, please, be first.”
Jason huffed and crossed his hands.
“Why should I start? Couldn’t it be a replacement here?”
Nightingale raised an eyebrow at him which silenced younger alpha immediately.
“Fine,” he huffed. When the omega didn’t lower his glare, he added. “Sorry, Tim. I know that you are not a replacement.”
Tim looked at his brother in sheer confusion. Weren’t they above all the ‘replacement’ shit already? Yes when Tim just entered the royal family Jason too was still young and new and insecure. Bruce got a great amount of work done to make them at least tolerate each other. The ‘replacement’ shit was water under the bridge by this point.
Nightingale though nodded and turned to Tim. Waited. Tim, not really getting what he is waiting for, took a guess.
“Um… apology accepted?”
Omega nodded once more, satisfied, and turned back to Jason, waiving his hand.
Jason huffed and rubbed his neck in clear embarrassment.
“I’m taking lessons.” He uttered quietly, Tim had to strain his hearing to understand. Still even hearing the words, he wasn’t able to grab their meaning.
“What?”
“I’m taking the swordsman lessons!” Jason shouted, turning to Tim, his face red as Metropolis flag.
Ah… the realization dawned at Tim.
“You asked Deathstroke to mentor you!?” He shouted back. “What’s wrong with you?!”
The low offended rumble and a quiet chuckle sounded from the opposing couch but Tim was too agitated to pay them any mind.
Jason grew even redder.
“What’s wrong with me!?” He shouted getting into Tim’s space over the armrest. “What’s wrong with you! Spending your heat with an unrelated omega!”
Tim’s world halted. “How you?..”
Jason huffed.
“Like it was that hard to guess. You run off at the beginning of your heat and the next day I come here I’m turned down because Nightingale is apparently too busy tending to you, little shit.”
Tim felt his anger rising.
“Oh I’m sorry my heat got into way of your weakly cuddle sessions!”
“Cuddle…what!? Come here you little…!” Jason sprung over the armrest obviously intending to strangle Tim, so Tim leaned back fully ready strangle Jason in return. They were halfway onto each other when strong arms pulled them mercilessly apart.
Nightingale sighed.
“You both are fucking impossible,” he moaned looking at his not-mate who was still holding Tim and Jason apart and half a foot in the air. Impressive strength.
“And you haven’t even met Damien yet…” Muttered Tim going limp in others hold. Jason was still fighting and snarling at the older alpha, who, if Tim was absolutely honest, look strangely resigned and entertained at the same time. And absolutely not budging. Impressive strength, really impressive.
Nightingale snorted.
“Oh, believe me,” he mused, “I have.”
This made Jason stop his futile attempts at freeing himself and look at the omega. His brow creased.
“You met Damien? Where?”
“In the League.” Came the low voice above them both and Tim craned his neck to look at the alpha holding him. Who raised an eyebrow. “Now will you behave when I put you down or will you continue swaying in the air?”
As a sane person, Tim nodded. As an upcoming young alpha, Jason bared his teeth and snarled. Easy to guess who was gently lowered down onto his seat and who was drugged across the room and pinned to the wall for easier handling.
Both Tim and Nightingale sighed.
“So,” omega locked his eyes with Tim ignoring low growls and snarling of both alphas, fighting for dominance. “What brings you here, Tim?”
“Oh, right…” he fumbled with his clothes and pulled out the invitation. “There is a royal ball held at the end of this week. Me and Kon are going to engage during it, so I thought I wanted to have you there. It will be a great event but mostly casual, you can even come in masks if you don’t want to expose your identity to anyone, I just wanted…”
“The royal ball, huh?”
Tim shut his mouth and looked at the omega opposite him.
“It’s absolutely fine if you don’t want to attend.”
The Nightingale’s face was hard to read. If Tim dare to say it was almost blank, so he really hopped he didn’t screw things between them over with this. He didn’t want to lose this new friendship.
Nightingale looked at Tim and smiled. For every effort, it still was strained.
“Thanks Tim.”
Tim’s heart dropped.
“I’m sorry.”
Nightingale shook his head.
“No, it is really nice you want me at your event, I bet it will be wondrous. It’s just…” He sighed. “I don’t know whether or not I want to enter the royal palace. It has nothing to do with you, really, only with my past. I guess,” he chuckled. “Everything will change drastically decide I to accept your invitation.”
“In a good way, I hope?”
Nightingale sighed, looking out of the window.
“I don’t know, Tim. I don’t even know.”