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“I’m sorry,” Dick says, and he can hear his voice crack as he does. “Could you say that again, please?”
The nurse, an older beta woman, gives him a kindly look. “Of course, dear. You’re about eight weeks pregnant.”
Dick swallows, hard. Pregnant. He didn’t- he hadn’t even considered that.
It’s been just about two months since Dick’s last heat. And it’s been about six weeks since he moved out of the manor.
“And you’re saying that’s why I’ve been so sick?”
The nurse nods. “Yes. Have you ever heard of prepartum separation syndrome, or PSS?”
“I don’t know,” Dick says, dully. He grips onto the bottom of his chair, feeling the cold metal and the crinkling plastic underneath his hands. “Maybe?”
“A growing baby needs attention from their sire in order to develop properly. Prepartum separation syndrome occurs when an expecting omega is separated from their alpha. The symptoms include fever, dizziness, depression, abdominal pain, nausea.” The nurse nods in his direction. “All the things that you’ve been complaining of.”
Dick takes a deep breath. Without thinking, his hand floats to his lower belly. Dick’s gaze wanders away from the nurse, staring at the white speckled walls of the examination room, the handwashing sink, the breastfeeding and hygiene infographic posters, all without really seeing them.
Dick’s going to have a baby.
A baby.
“So how do we fix it?” Dick asks shakily. “The, uh, syndrome thing.”
There’s a whiff of comforting, soothing beta pheromones from the nurse. “It depends on your situation, and on what you want to do. The fetus won’t be able to develop properly without the necessary developmental proteins from their sire. These are only found in alpha semen, during a mate’s pregnancy.”
Dick nods. Right. This sort of rings a bell. He’s sure he’s heard about PSS, in sex ed, or on tv or something. It’s not very common, but it’s always serious when it does happen.
So that means- that means the baby needs Bruce.
“Are there any other options?”
The nurse pauses for a moment before replying. “Unfortunately, you would not be able to carry the pregnancy to term without the sire.” The nurse keeps her tone even and nonjudgemental and sends another round of calming beta pheromones in Dick’s direction, filling the little exam room with the scent of lemongrass. “If the alpha isn’t in the picture, we can discuss a plan for terminating the pregnancy.”
Dick curls in on himself, the hand on his belly turning into a protective arm, his knees raising up in front of him like a shield. “Those are the only two options?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dick sees the nurse nod. “Unfortunately, yes. If the pregnancy continues untreated, and you remain separated from your alpha, there will be serious consequences for both you and the baby. It is highly unlikely that either of you would survive.”
Dick closes his eyes, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, his body wanting to panic. His head is spinning, like it has been for the past several weeks, and his entire body feels sick and sore. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.” The nurse writes something down on her clipboard. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take your time to think it over.” The nurse steps over to the computer. “I’d like to make an appointment for one week from today. Make a decision by then, and we can proceed with whatever course of action you choose.”
“Okay.” Dick’s voice sounds hollow when he speaks.
Dick manages to keep himself present for long enough to discuss available appointment times and text message reminder systems with the nurse. And then he stumbles out into the cold, biting wind, and leans against the concrete wall of the anonymous omega health clinic.
Dick’s pregnant. Dick’s going to have a baby.
Does Dick even want a baby?
Dick can’t have the baby without Bruce.
He and Bruce haven’t spoken in six weeks.
Dick wasn’t supposed to get pregnant. He was always so careful with his suppressants. Maybe he messed something up. Maybe the suppressants failed. He wasn’t supposed to get bred.
Dick clutches at his stomach, and feels the tears start to spill out of his eyes. He never should have spent his heat with Bruce. But he just wanted to, so badly. He’s always wanted to. Dick thought it would be worth it, finally getting to spend a heat with Bruce. That he shouldn’t waste the opportunity, before he moved out for college.
But now Dick’s pregnant.
The last time he spoke to Bruce still hurts to even think about.
Bruce hadn’t wanted Dick to leave. He’d wanted their pack to stay together. Dick had thought that Bruce would get over it, that they could still be pack even after Dick moved out to be on his own.
Bruce had not agreed.
Dick’s going to have a baby.
Dick can’t have the baby without Bruce.
Dick really, really wants to have this baby.
Dick dry heaves, clutching the cold, coarse wall of the clinic as he bends over double, nausea roiling through him. He feels terrible. And the nurse said it’s only going to get worse.
Dick thinks about Bruce.
He thinks about how overprotective Bruce can be. How controlling. About the cruel, insulting things that Bruce spit at him when they had that fight. Bruce thinks he’s a failure of an omega. Bruce thinks that no good omega would behave the way Dick does, disobeying their alpha’s orders, striking out on their own, abandoning their pack.
Dick thinks that Bruce is full of misogynistic bullshit, and that he should shove it up his ass.
Why does Dick’s body want him to go back to Bruce? Why can’t he do this on his own, without an alpha in charge of him? Is that all it is, the pull that Dick feels, the deep ache in his chest that has him turn towards Gotham, late at night? Just biology. The baby craving the proteins it needs to stay alive.
Dick thinks about Bruce. About how well they get along, when they’re getting along. The magic of it, Batman and Robin flying through the air together, perfectly in sync. The happy, bubbly feeling inside Dick’s chest when he can get Bruce’s stoic mask to crack, when he can coax out that tiny, genuine smile. The way it feels when Dick is curled up against Bruce’s chest, safe in his alpha’s strong arms, breathing in Bruce’s alpha scent like cedar, listening to his heartbeat, their nest smelling like pack and love and home.
Dick thinks about the pup. He’s already thinking of it as a pup. His hand floats down to his stomach again, caressing over the place where he’s carrying a baby. His and Bruce’s baby. Dick imagines what the pup would look like. He wonders if the pup would have his hair, pin-straight, or Bruce’s hair, with its tight curls. If the pup’s eyes would be icy-blue like Bruce’s, or sea-blue like Dick’s.
Dick wants to be his own person, and he thinks that maybe Bruce will never let him have that.
Dick imagines holding his pup in his arms. Cuddling them close to his chest. Dick wants the pup to be safe, and healthy, and alive. Dick wants it so badly, it’s like a knife in his chest.
Slowly, Dick sinks down onto the sidewalk. It’s cold and hard underneath him. The wind blows through again, whipping painfully at Dick’s face. With shaky hands, Dick reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
Dick got a new phone, after he left. One that doesn’t have Bruce as a contact. But he still has the number memorized. It’s the number for Bruce’s personal cell phone, the one that only Dick and Alfred have access to. Bruce made sure that Dick could recite the number forward and backward, when he was younger. Just in case Dick ever needed to reach him.
Dick taps out the number, brings the phone to his ear, and closes his eyes.
The phone rings. It rings again.
And then there’s a click.
“Dick?”
Bruce sounds worried. Dick feels his body tremble. There’s another wave of dizziness. Dick hasn’t heard Bruce’s voice in six weeks, and the last time they spoke, Bruce was screaming.
Dick wants to touch Bruce so badly that it aches. He wants to smell him. Hearing his voice isn’t enough.
“Dick, is everything alright?”
“No.” It comes out in a whisper. “Can you. Can you pick me up?”
“Yes.” There’s motion on the other end of the line, and shuffling, like Bruce has just stood up. “I’m on my way.” Bruce’s voice is calm and commanding, all alpha, ever steady in a crisis. “Can you stay put until I get there?” There’s a protectiveness to his voice, like Bruce would break down the entire world to keep Dick safe.
Dick starts to cry again. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’ll be there soon.”
The line goes dead.
Dick keeps weeping quietly, rubbing his tears off with his coat sleeve. People move around the parking lot, coming in and out of the clinic, but they all ignore him, keeping their heads down.
Bruce doesn’t bother asking for an address. Dick isn’t surprised. He knows that Bruce could find him anywhere.
Dick isn’t sure how much time passes. Everything is a wave of dizziness and tears and cold air.
A sleek black car pulls up to the curb, right in front of him. There’s the sound of a car door opening. Heavy footsteps.
“Dick.”
Dick shudders with tears all over again. He can smell cedar, and concern, and protective alpha, all mixed with the thready hint of pack-bond between them.
A hand reaches down in front of him.
Dick blinks at it.
He reaches up to grab it, and lets Bruce haul him to his feet.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Bruce’s voice is so gentle. Dick keeps holding his hand, clinging onto it like a lifeline. Dick takes a deep, shuddering breath, taking in Bruce’s scent.
The ache in the center of his chest gets deeper, somehow. Like his body knows that this is what he needs. Something deep and instinctual inside him knows that this alpha can save him, can save his baby. Dick’s so close to getting what he needs.
“I’m pregnant,” Dick whispers. He leans into Bruce’s side, feeling his alpha support his weight, warm and steady. “I’m sick.” Dick blinks his tears away, and tries to remember to breathe. “Will you take me home?”
Bruce lets out a low growl. It’s both protective and comforting. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Dick lets Bruce pick him up and bundle him into the back of the car. Bruce tucks him in with a heavy blanket. The blanket smells of Bruce, and the weight and scent of it are both soothing. Bruce gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, and it rumbles to life underneath them.
Dick closes his eyes as the car pulls away. His brain feels thick and dull, foggy from fever. Bruce takes them away from the clinic, and speeds off into the cold, grey winter’s afternoon. Dick cradles his stomach, and thinks of the baby.
Dick drifts off into an uneasy sleep just as Bruce merges onto the freeway, taking the fastest route back toward Gotham.
…
“Beautiful,” Bruce growls out. Bruce rocks his hips upward, fucking his knot deeper into the sweet omega sitting on his lap. Bruce’s hands are resting gently on Dick’s pregnant belly, rubbing at it softly as Bruce fucks him. “You look gorgeous like this. Absolutely perfect, sweetheart. What a perfect omega.”
Bruce isn’t exaggerating. Dick is stunning right now, in the eighth month of his pregnancy, naked and stuck on Bruce’s knot. Pregnancy looks good on Dick. His belly has gotten absolutely huge, heavy and rounded from carrying Bruce’s pups. Bruce had been absolutely ecstatic, when he’d found out Dick was pregnant with twins. He’s even happier now that Dick has gotten so far along, his stomach big and round with their pups. Not to mention how large his breasts have gotten, swollen up with plenty of milk to feed their little ones. Dick is a picture-perfect bred omega, healthy and glowing.
Bruce comes with a grunt, his knot blowing out wide inside his omega’s cunt, tying them tightly together. Keeping Dick right where he should be, stuck on his alpha’s knot, as close to Bruce as he can possibly get. Bruce growls in satisfaction, feeling his hot alpha come pump into Dick’s tight little pregnant pussy. Dick lets out a wordless moan, shuddering in Bruce’s lap.
“Does that feel good, omega?” Bruce croons into Dick’s ear. “That’s what you need, isn’t it, sweetheart? Need to be all full of alpha’s come, alpha’s knot. That feels better, doesn’t it?”
Dick lets out a soft whine, leaning back into Bruce’s chest. “Alpha.” Dick tips his head back, baring his throat and closing his eyes, a sweet submissive omega gesture. “So good, Alpha.”
Bruce purrs, low and dark. “Good omega. So pretty, when you’re all bred up. You’re going to be such a good mama, sweetheart.”
Dick’s scent flickers with happiness at those words, as Bruce praises his omega, the mother of his pups. “Thank you, Alpha,” Dick murmurs softly, relaxing into Bruce’s lap. “I want to be, Alpha.”
“You will be,” Bruce rumbles, caressing his omega’s stomach, rubbing gently over his full womb. “I know you will. My perfect omega.”
Bruce reaches over to grab the milking pump from the table. Dick makes a little grumbling noise as Bruce tugs at his tits, pinching and pulling at the nipples so he can get the pump attached. Bruce lets it go. His poor omega’s teats are so sore, after all. Bruce gets the attachments firmly clamped to both of Dick’s nipples, and the jar for his milk connected securely to the other end.
Bruce switches the pump on, and it comes to life with a whirr. Dick lets out a moan, and his cunt clenches down on Bruce’s knot as the pump starts to milk his pretty, pregnant teats.
“Such a good boy,” Bruce purrs.
Bruce lets his hand slip down Dick’s stomach, finding Dick’s pretty little cocklet where it’s all hard, leaning against his big pregnant belly and leaking slick. Bruce takes it in hand and starts to rub at it, at the same time grinding his knot slowly into Dick’s cunt, and turning the nursing pump up, increasing the suction on Dick’s teats.
Dick whines, high-pitched and needy, and all omega. “Alpha. Alpha. Alpha!”
It’s music to Bruce’s ears. So satisfying, to have his ward become his submissive little omega mate, all heavily bred with Bruce’s pups, leaking with milk, squirming on his Alpha’s knot.
It’s better than Bruce could have even imagined, back when he switched out Dick’s suppressants for sugar pills.
Bruce presses a kiss to Dick’s neck, breathing in Dick’s scent like vanilla and lilacs, like happy, bred omega. “Come for me, sweetheart,” Bruce murmurs. “Come for Alpha, that’s a good omega.”
Dick obeys with a scream, his little cocklet twitching in Bruce’s hand, his cunt spasming around Bruce’s knot. “Alpha,” Dick sobs out. “Thank you, Alpha, thank you!”
Bruce gives a low, rumbling alpha purr, and presses another kiss to Dick’s neck. “Such a good omega. That’s it, sweetheart. So good for me.”
Dick falls asleep like that, fucked-out and exhausted, slumped in his Alpha’s lap, still stuck on Bruce’s knot. Bruce finishes milking Dick’s tits dry, then removes the pump, setting it and the little jar of omega milk to the side.
Bruce purrs, pressing more kisses into Dick’s neck, gently rubbing his hands over Dick’s heavy pregnant belly, cossetting and caressing his omega.
This is pure bliss. Dick’s going to be such a good mama, such a good omega to their pups. Needing Bruce to keep the babies healthy has been good for Dick. It’s helped subdue him, helped him settle into his role as Bruce’s omega. Bruce keeps him pumped full of as much alpha come as any omega and their pups could ever need, and in return, Dick has grown into such a good, obedient omega.
They’ll have to wait and see how things turn out, after Dick has the pups. Bruce worries it might be hard on him, the side effects of postpartum, especially after such a rough start to the pregnancy.
Bruce will just have to breed Dick with a second litter as soon as possible. Wouldn’t want the omega to get any naughty ideas about running off again. Dick won’t be able to misbehave, as long as he’s dependent on Bruce’s come in order to keep the babies. Dick’s maternal instincts are more than strong enough to ensure that- he’s such a good omega at heart, even if he’s unruly sometimes.
Bruce strokes Dick’s head, gently carding his fingers through Dick’s hair, purring soothingly. Dick sleeps on in his lap, happy and sated. Yes, Bruce is going to keep Dick just like this. Dick will never leave him, now. They’re going to be such a happy pack together, Bruce, and Dick, and all their many pups.
Bruce will make sure of it.